Open letter to the hot girl on the train with me every morning

Dear hot girl on the train with me every morning,

Some would call it coincidence, some would call it happenstance, some would call it stalking, but I call it serendipity. No matter when I get on the T in the morning, there you are, astutely studying your Metro Sudoku section, listening to your Ipod, and I'd assume thinking about bikinis and high heels.

Oh, hot girl on the train with me every morning, one day I will have the courage to cross the great divide that is the middle of the subway car, past the fat commuters from the North Shore and the hipsters from Davis who smell like incense and sweat, and say hello to you. One day you will look up from the Today's Debate section of the Metro and say hello to me.

One question, though. How come you're a different person every day?