I was going to bike to a free washer and dryer, but the little voice in my head said, “Just go to the laundromat. It’s closer. It’s easier. It costs a whole four dollars.”

I like to listen to that voice. One, because history shows that it knows stuff and two, because what doesn’t get listened to tends to stop talking. It’s taken me on wild and wonderful rides in the past, so I tend to trust it. I scoop the clothes out of my bike basket and as I load the washer I see my bike start to tip in the wind. I catch it before it falls and the guy folding his clean clothes — the only other person in there, surprisingly — remarks, “You caught it, nice job.”

Random comments like that can be rare in Key West, almost as rare as a practically empty laundromat, which makes me pick it up and run with it. Our chit chat turns to the power of positive thinking and we share some of our favorite inspirations. It’s when I mention that I meditate that his face really lights up.

We’re also both gypsies, cheating the seasons. He’s down from Pennsylvania where it’s too cold to work construction, I’m here because of opportunities aligning.

“We should hang out sometime,” he offers.

I’m aware that I don’t respond to his suggestion, but I’m unaware as to why. And now I have two conversations going: the one with him and the one in my head trying to figure out why I didn’t take him up on his offer. He seems cute enough: hair on the longer side, curling up around his ears and where it hits the top of his T-shirt. He smiles a little when he talks, and he talks like a guy who takes responsibility for his life, his thoughts and his choices.

Sometimes you get so used to turning away from what you don’t want that when what you do want faces you full frontal, you wobble. Forget your lines. I’m prone to saying yes easily and effortlessly and I’m not sure it serves me in the romantic realm of my life. Somewhere in me it seems there’s been a decision to take things more slowly.

He mentions he likes to hang out at one of my favorite spots: the state park, Fort Zach. Here’s my chance. I say I love that place and I would totally hang out with him there. He doesn’t grab my offer like a lion coming up on a gazelle in the wild; he casually nods and says when he tends to be there.

It’s the desire to share a YouTube video of inspirational quotes that brings the exchanging of phone numbers to the table.

As we say goodbye, he makes the classy move of saying, “I’d love to take you out to dinner some time.” Nailing the landing, in my book.