I can see the sweat soaking through his undershirt, but dude, it's totally fine. I'm just going to pretend that I didn't see it. I mean, of course I see it. Anyone could see it. It's pretty bad.
I considered tossing him a towel or making a crack asking if he ran a marathon before he came to meet me, but I refrained. In fact, I've decided to straight-up ignore it. Yay for him, right?
He gets nervous around me, the least I can do is look the other way as he works through it. Sure, it's obvious that his armpits are damp, his collar is drenched, and a stream of sweat is dampening his back, but I don't care! In fact, I think it's kinda cute in a strange way.
I'm not going to want to hug him or shake his hand--God, no!--but I'm happy to sit here next to him and smile obliviously. THAT, I can do. And, I will do. So, congrats!