Point of view

After 5 wonderful days in Paris, I am heading myself back home. He was nice, warm, cool ... Paris. Yes, I was talking about him, about Paris.
When I am writing these words I am in the RER train going to the Charles de Gaulle Airport.

Next to me sits a nice lady who seems to have the same destination. The journey is short, about 20 minutes, so there I see no interest in starting a conversation with her.

Suddenly, the train stops for a long period of time in the middle of nowhere, nowhere called 'banlieue' by the French.
And I found this stop very appropriate to start chatting with my colleague. However, after a couple of breathless responses to my small talk questions, she puts her iPod earphones on ... so the conversation is over.

I believe this is good for me and bad for her. She doesn’t know what a good teller I am; she doesn’t know what she has just missed.
This is my story, my point of view. What about her point of view?

...

After a hard working week in Paris I am heading myself to Hamburg, to see my tall, blue eyes and blonde haired German boyfriend.
Hm... I just can wait to have him near me, to kiss him, to feel his power, to let him lick my whole body...

Next to me sits a person who seems to have the same destination. The journey is short, about 20 minutes, and I hope she will not bother me.

Suddenly, the train stops for a long period of time. Why does it stop? When it will start over? I am going to miss my flight and the wonderful weekend with my tall German love? But the man next to me ...yes, he was a man ... starts asking me some stupid questions.
I have to give him some answers, otherwise I may look rude. Ah ... he had just made a pause ... great. I put my iPod earphones on ... so his conversation is over.

Hm...it feels so good to listen some good music and prepare myself for a weekend full of passion with my blue eyes and blonde haired German...