Bridger Bowl edition.
I was behind you in the lunch line at Deer Park Chalet. You ordered the last black bean burrito. I lamented to my sister (note – that was not my girlfriend) that I was going to order that. You offered, jokingly, to give me half. Our eyes met briefly as you were applying salsa. I wondered if we might share a backpack lunch someday. I would totally split all my food with you.
Lunch-line Juliet: this could be us.