Could you be placated by a similar but different story drawn from my own feckless youth?
There she was, sauntering down Baltimore Pike in Clifton Heights, on the opposite side of the 4 lane. Resplendent in skin tight hipster jeans, tight midriff blouse, and waist length blonde hair wafting in the gentle summer breezes. I gazed longingly in her direction, while whispering a non-denominational prayer against my possible disappointment, should she "grace" me with her countenance. "Don't turn around darling, I want to remember you just the way you are". Fate intervened, and she glanced in my direction. My lust and prurient interest faded in her single horrific glance. I feel quite blessed and lucky to this day, having eluded, (only barely), being turned to stone.(*)
To this day though, I carry two paper bags at the ready, should our paths ever cross in the future. And as long as she hasn't gained too much weight, I'm not as prideful as I was in my younger days.
Perhaps her name was Jennifer too, I'll likely never know.
(*) Or perhaps I was already stoned, that part is never quite clear.
Last edited: Jun 22, 2014
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