I pay the clerk and head over to load my coffee with cream and sugar. ”Long day already, hu,” says the gentleman at the creamer station as he slowly stirs his coffee with one of those oversized wooden toothpicks.  ”It’s gonna be,” I sigh.  “My flight’s delayed.” ”Really, that never happens,” he says in a sarcastic, but sweet tone.” I finish putting the lids on the cups of coffee as I notice how well he’s dressed. Yes, he’s wearing jeans, but they’re designer; a good wash and a great fit.  He’s wearing a t-shirt and a well-tailored jacket.  His shoes are well made and shined.  Mom would be impressed.  But his chizzled chin is showing signs of an early five o’clock shadow. ”Going or coming?” I ask casually ”Going technically.  I’m supposed to be on a flight to Miami, but it’s delayed.” ”Really? Mine too” ”Yeah, you mentioned that,” he interjects giggling. ”Yes,” I say embarassed.  “I mean, I’m supposed to be going to Florida too - Fort Myers.  It’s delayed.”  I put the sandwich in my purse, sling it over my shoulder and grab the coffee cups.   ”Heading this way?” I ask gesturing with a coffee cup in the direction of my gate.   ”Yes,” he begins to walk with me. I can’t help but think about the fact that this sort of thing never happens to me.  That is, I never end up chatting it up with random attractive guys.  Especially not in an airport. (more about not being hit on)  ”So you’re on business,” he confirms, interrupting the awkward silence I must have left while drifting in thought.   Keep up Heather, this is why guys don’t hit on you. ”No, to see my grandmother,” I correct.  Wow, you sound super cool now. You could have gone with the business thing; you travel for work all the time. ”My grandparents live in Cape Coral.” ”Oh, I love Cape Coral.  Come on Heather, keep up. “Oh, you’ve been there?” I ask  ”Yeah my family’s from outside of Miami so we vacation near there sometimes. Well …,” he begins to wrap things up. Good one Heather.  Way to keep up a conversation. ”Well, I guess I should let you get back to your boyfriend before his coffee’s cold.” Score! Even I know that means some sort of interest.  He’s fishing. ”Oh, this?” I say looking down at my hands, each holding a cup.  “This is for my cousin.”  Then I look up from my coffee cup and smile right at him. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”