Union Station dreamer wants to be swept up

I work at Union Station and I still get chills walking through the grand hall every morning. All those people passing through, all those stories. I'm thirty two, single, never married, and my mother reminds me of that fact at every holiday. I'm a romantic who hides it under a thick layer of pragmatism. I want the grand gesture and the Tuesday night normalcy. Someone who'll meet me at Pierpont's after my shift, who reads actual newspapers, and who has opinions about things that matter. Politics matter to me and I won't pretend they don't. Left leaning, proud of it, not interested in debating my humanity.