You are either on the bus, or off the bus, as the quite mortal Mr. Kesey put it.
Before being on the bus, you are at the bus stop. I was today. I met a girl.
Or I should say "She met me." She surely thought she wanted to. I could tell. She was all over me at the bus stop. Now, had I been more attracted to her, I might have done things a tad differently (perhaps not, but maybe).
I didn't want to be impolite, but when she asked if we could go to dinner together, I knew I'd have to do something subtle. Since I had a late lunch I had a ready-made excuse for that.
So I listened, and conversed, until she got around to a salient question: "Would you want to be in love again?"
And of course, I said "Sure." But I followed up with pointing out that I doubted anyone would ever be in that relationship with me as I'm terminally weird (nice, and cheerful, but hopelessly weird and contrarian to a major extent).
She asked. When I got to the part about the Archangel Seraphial yelling at me to go to the pharmacy to buy witch hazel, I saw success.
We continued to talk, but she never did what I'd been concerned about (followed me home).