Driving home after a double shift, I passed this girl on the side of the road. Young, tight, pretty hot–an 8, easily.
As I came up on her, she sorta half-waved at my car; not a “hey there! wave, or a double-armed frantic “Help! psycho-stalker on my ass!” kind of wave, but a hand held at waist level, sort of waggling-due-to-a-spasm wave.
The three thoughts that passed through my sleep-deprived skull at the moment I saw her were:
Statutory rape charge.
Spending the rest of my life “married” to a guy named Thor…
As I passed her, I saw her arms come up in a What the fuck? gesture; her face never changed, but I could read her perplexity in her eyes. It was probably the first time in her life that a man didn’t drop everything for her, and she was shocked to see it happen.
As her figure shrank in my rearview mirror, all I could think was:”Who the fuck are you?”
Welcome to the 21st Century, kid; life’s a bitch, ain’t it?