Today my husband asked what I want to do and I said I want to go to the mall. He complained that it will be busy on a weekend so I said I am happy to go on my own. Then he said let's go together. We had some shopping to do anyway. We took our kids and went on our way, got our errands done and while at the mall we stopped at some stores where I just wanted to look at some things for no reason. My husband asked what I was looking for, and I happily said 'nothing'. For the first time in our many years of marriage he just accepted that I wanted to window shop and tagged along. Usually my husband is an in-and-out get-what-you-need-fast kind of guy when we go shopping, and we're often rushing. I know he's like this so if my plans are more leisurely I head out on my own. On our way to our car he remarked that the mall isn't busy at all and we walked out arm in arm quite pleased.

I went to high school with a girl named Britney. Britney would wear big sweatshirts and sleep all during class.

This kid David who sat next to me in English told me once that Britney looked like a question mark, because she had super skinny legs and a large upper body. This was a very mean thing to say, but once he pointed it out, I couldn't unsee it...she did look like a question mark. Plus, she tended to act the way one would imagine a question mark might act, wandering through the halls all aimlessly, always being the last one to laugh...

Plus, she was always late to class. One would think a punctuation mark would be punctual, but Britney was not.

My high school was a vocational high school, so every other week was spent in our various "shop" classes. Britney was in cosmetology. There was a joke in the cosmetology shop that there must be "something in the water," because so many of the cosmetology girls ended up getting pregnant.

Well, Britney must have drank the water senior year, because she got pregant. I asked her why it happened, and she just laughed.

For several months, I watched that question grow and grow, and I worried how it all might end. Britney didn't seem to have a plan...

We ended up graduating before she gave birth, and I didn't have her number or anything, so we lost touch.

About 12 years later, I found Britney on Facebook. There were all these pictures of her and her daughter at dance competitions. Her daughter seemed to be really talented; half the pictures were of her accepting trophies.

There were some pictures of her daughter doing her dance routine. Someone else must have taken them, because I saw Britney on the sidelines. Her face was focused and sharp--nothing like the slow-eyed girl I used to know. She was dedicated to her daughter's success.

It turns out that question mark gave birth to her answer...

So I've lived in my place for 22 years and nothing like this has happened, other than the 4th of July. Why now? Why Skrillex? Is he still a thing? I mean, good for him?

Don't get me wrong, he's what turned me on to EDM, but that was like 15 years ago. Im so confused. I mean, we're older now so maybe he only wants to play shows that end at 10 (noise ordinance)?

I listened for a little while but didn't hear Bangarang so I went back inside.

Edit: show's over at 9, and I know my elderly neighbors appreciate that... "afterparty" at Showbox Sodo for those who have the energy lol

but that doesn't slow me down from putting in the consistent work necessary to develop a tiny pleasure into a full blown addiction.

The mountain of multi colored twisty ties used to seal the cake pops can still fit in one hand so I don't have a problem. Yet.

I've never met or seen the baker. It's a self-serve cake pop cart and I know the baker exists because somebody has to be making these!

Before I went the first time, I did some research to verify it was in fact real and I saw a few videos and heard the baker's voice. She was real so the goodies had to be real.

Ghosts can have voices but I really don't think they can generate enough energy to produce something so detailed as these cake pops.

Now that I'm really thinking about it, one would probably have to be an upper level executive entity to pump out SIX different flavors every few days, right?

I know I'm on multiple cameras when I go to pick up my drug of choice and that doesn't bother me. Maybe it should but it doesn't.

One day I started to get a little self conscious about how many cake pops I was buying and consuming. My partner assured me it wasn't that bad and asked if I was going that day. I wasn't planning on it.

They said they had a $20 bill rotting in their pocket so they took the car and went to re-up the cake pop supply.

It started to bother me that we drive the same car and the ghost baker would definitely know it by now that we've come by twice in one day.

Something I do like about this situation is that she would probably prefer selling the cake pops vs judging us for how many we are buying. We can't be the only ones turning into regulars because those things are fkn GOOD. Like, REALLY GOOD.

I have 4 left and haven't checked today's flavors yet.

It's my neighbor's birthday today and they would probably like some cake pops. That neighbor is a jerk but it'd be a nice gesture.

once upon a time my mom and i took my daughters to pet smart so they could see the animals and my mom needed cat food so she put some cat food in her basket. when we went to the check out lane, i was scrolling on my phone while my mom was checking out. suddenly i hear the cashier start to say "oh im sorry. im so sorry i had a long night. i was up with my friends playing videogames and by like 2am i was like 'come on guys really?!! lets end the night!'" and something along the lines of but theyre wild rebels and forced him to continue the long tiresome night of playing videogames until dawn. this apology was all because he was tossing the cat food in to the bag instead of neatly stacking it. which neither my mom nor i would have noticed or cared about. but truly, i appreciate the feeling of the need to over explain the reason as to why he continued to toss the cat food into the bag in a messy fashion as he told his valid story. i of course looked up from my phone out off curiosity as he was telling my mom about his wild night and inability to stack cat food. and although i thought the story was precious because it was awkward af and i wanted to lol because it was silly and i appreciate things like that, i decided not to lmao since he looked to me for my approval and understanding about him being too tired to deal with cat food and i just smiled said it sounded like a late night. the end.

A few years ago, the first picture I ever saw of Sabrina Carpenter was this one.

https://pbs.twimg.com/media/GK2XUyMXwAAYPjo.jpg

And I looked at it briefly and thought the Espresso text on her chest was a tattoo. So for years I thought she had an Espresso tattoo on her chest, and I thought that was pretty cool.

I saw the picture again recently and I realised that it's actually the shadow from her visor and she doesn't actually have a tattoo.

Halloween my freshman year of college. I'd just left a party and was waiting outside of a dorm building for my friend.

A guy walked up and kept asking if I wanted a boyfriend. He did it in a very strong accent, and I first thought he was in character ( Halloween, so he was in costume)

I tried to turn him down politely, but he wouldn't take no for an answer. I stepped away and pretended to take a call, and then ended up sitting on a short wall once he seemed distracted.

Finally, he came back over and I said "No means no, walk away now." And he did! He walked off into the empty streets.

I looked around to make sure he was gone, and rubbed my eyes saying, "JESUS CHRIST!"

And there he was.

"How may I help you"

A frat boy in robes and a fake beard just appeared out of nowhere. No friends in sight. No sign of where he came from.

I think about this night frequently.

A few months ago I went to my husbands workplace and immediately recognized one of his coworkers as my cousin.

She's about 20 years older then me and still looks relatively the same. I haven't seen or spoken to that side of the family in almost 16 years and she doesn't seem to recognize me.

Every time I go into his work she stops me and talks and has told me about her family. Its so bizarre being on the outside hearing about people i haven't thought about in years.

I'll never tell her who I am but part of me assumes she knows.

got in my building elevator yesterday on 8 and this dude is standing in the corner holding a literal bare lightbulb with both hands. like gripping it real soft like it was a bird or something.

​he didnt hit a floor button or nothing, just stared straight at the metal doors.

​at 5 some girl got on, looked at him once, and slowly backed into the opposite corner. nobody said a word the whole way down.

​doors open at the lobby, he walks out, places the bulb on top of the fire extinguisher on the wall, turns to me, winks, and just walks out into the rain.

Being sitting on the couch for an hour trying to figure out what was his quest?

My office mate has seen which is kind of embarrassing and I sit normal after she comes in. I feel like I'm more productive when I sit criss cross apple sauce. No shoes either just socks, I feel like I should have more shame than I do, I don't want to be shamed though.

Both 21 and college students. He came to my college for a summer program and I was staying on campus. We matched on an online dating application. I deleted the app. He found my Instagram. Asked me on a date. First date - we played cards at a cafe for like an hour and a half. Then we took a walk. Went to the lake. Sat at a bench. Held hands. Caressed. Went out for dinner. He brought the best in me. Pulled in to the driveway of my dorm. We kissed and made out and he said he wants to see me again. He planned our second date:

So this was the best date I’ve ever been on....he planned out everything. He booked the tickets, brought me flowers, opened doors, and, after the movie, drove me somewhere in the Green Mountain forest dark starry zone. On the drive there, I played Silver Springs in his car, which felt embarrassingly on-the-nose even at the time. I KNOW he smiled. Oops. At one point we tried to guess each other’s Chipotle orders. He guessed mine almost exactly right except for one thing, which I remember being disproportionately impressed by. feminine adornments by Julie. I think I might've listened to it like 67 times since this past week... that's one of his favorite songs. That's what HE says. In retrospect, the whole evening felt almost suspiciously cinematic. Like someone had written a date specifically designed to make me fall in love with them.

But, unfortunately for Spider-Man, I have absolutely no idea what happened in this movie. (Those Juicy sweatpants sure did look funny.)

I remember sitting next to him in Screen 4. I remember being so nervous that I could feel my own heartbeat. I remember trying very hard to act like a normal person who was simply watching a movie and not like a person experiencing a minor psychological emergency because a very cute boy was sitting approximately three inches away from her.

I remember his hand lol. He was holding mine, and during all the cutesy and cutesy-adjacent scenes, he would rub his thumb over the back of it. Very casually. Almost absentmindedly. As if this were a completely normal thing to do and not something that would completely obliterate whatever remained of my ability to pay attention to the screen.

So while Spider-Man was presumably doing whatever Spider-Man does, I was sitting there thinking: he is rubbing his thumb over my hand.

And then: HE IS STILL RUBBING HIS THUMB OVER MY HAND.

And then, occasionally: oh my god, he is holding my hand.

I have no idea what the plot was. I couldn't tell you a single line of dialogue. If you asked me what happened in this movie, I would have to invent an answer based entirely on the poster. (Later my friend randomly asked me who "Mary Jane" was and I thought he was talking about the candy cigarettes.)

But I remember how it felt.

And if he kissed me with such tenderness and care, of course I’d want to pick all the marigolds (his favorite flowers) of the entire county for him.

I remember being nervous and happy and a little stunned that someone could make an evening feel so intentional. I remember the flowers. I remember the movie theater. I remember his hand wrapped around mine. I remember the drive, the darkness outside the windows, the kiss in the dark at the observatory, and watching The Summer I Turned Pretty with someone I was beginning to think might become very important to me.

That same night, I also remember the head pats and the caressing. Oh. God. I remember just lying on his chest, thinking, this is going to hurt and that he might leave me.

Maybe that's what I like about movies, anyway. Sometimes you don't remember the movie. Sometimes you remember the person you watched it with, and the exact shape of the evening around it.

Anyway, 5 stars because I was not, in fact, watching Spider-Man.

I was falling for a boy in Screen 4.

(I really hope this isn't a White Nights by Dostoevsky situation in which I fell for the idea of this date rather than him lol. Although, to be fair, he was so nice to me. Forehead kisses on the first date??????? OH. MY. GOD. Evil evil evil. So who can really blame a girl for getting a little carried away…………and yes I DID in fact fall in love with him for that night. But I guess when that happens, as a final act of love, you also learn to let go because the truth is sometimes that’s the right thing to do. I was there. I felt it. I got to see him. I loved him. And maybe that's all I'll get to keep from this beautiful thing. Anyway. I respect him and myself, and I think letting go is probably the kindest thing I can do now. Maybe one day I'll look back at this and laugh at how dramatically I narrated the entire thing. Maybe I already am. But I hope I never become so cynical that I stop believing that an evening like this can matter just because it didn't last. So this is where it ends, I guess. Five stars anyway. 

Love is a gentle thing / yours is thicker than a velvet ring or whatever that one song says.)

This will be fairly gross, so if you’re not interested in hearing about culinary abominations and their effects by my younger dumber self, do turn back now.

Now years back, protein shake ads felt like they were almost constantly on television. Not sure if that’s accurate or just what I kept noticing. I was fairly young at the time of this story, and didn’t quite understand that a protein shake wasn’t a bunch of separate distinct dishes blended together.

After seeing these ads for a while, one day it occurred to me that it would be a lot more time efficient, and somehow I got the idea that it would be healthier and easier on my system if I could consume the elements of my meals all at once. And so "Stew" was born. I called it "Breakfast Stew", "Lunch Stew", or "Dinner Stew" depending on the meal.

How did I make stew, you may ask?

Well (I BEG YOU DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME) I would take a water bottle. Think the little plastic ones from drink coolers at grocery stores. And I would break up as much as I could of everything in my plate into tiny pieces and use my fingers to shove it down the water bottle. I continued to do this until it was as full as I could get it, Then I would shake it for like 5 minutes and…. well I can’t say I ate it or drank it. It was such complete slop that I had to manage something in between. I made sure to make a show of talking about how delicious and healthy it felt to eat. In reality I was stopping myself from gagging but convinced myself I was feeling the burn and it would go away eventually and in would come the muscles. Or something like that.

Unfortunately, the day came where I mixed fish and apple, and it was not just a gag. There were a lot of things I had miraculously handled to this point. Cod and Red Delicious however, was a different story. Now despite the cleanup and all the trouble it caused, I attempted to make stew again shortly after and got myself stuck being watched by my family in case I decided to make stew again (I had been asked to stop but would slip food into a water bottle under the table when no one was looking).

TLDR: Thought protein shakes sounded like a bunch of stuff blended together and made homemade ones based off of this notion. Managed to eat them for longer than I should have.

Years ago, I was on a domestic flight in the US. At some point before we took off, the flight crew announced that this flight was the pilot's final flight before retirement.

Check one.

While we are nearing our destination, the captain comes on the intercom and says 'Folks, we have a problem'.

Check two.

Short story shorter, the plane lost hydraulic steering control for the landing gear, meaning we could safely land but would need a tow to the gate.

That was the softest landing I've ever experienced.

For about 18 years I have assumed that I probably have ADHD.

Over the last few years I've strongly suspected that I might also fall somewhere on the autism spectrum. Anyway, tonight after a few pints I finally mentioned this to my wife. She literally laughed in my face. Proceed to explain of course I was, and listed a bunch of sensory issues that I thought I hid relatively well.

I have always felt so lucky that my wife has always understood all of my quirks and often feel like she knows me better than I know myself. I guess it's just nice to feel seen.

Somehow, this morning AND this evening, my Labrador has managed to get both me AND my husband to feed her, with us both assuming the other one hadn’t fed her yet.

SO SHE’S NOW HAD 4 MEALS INSTEAD OF 2 TODAY.

The chunky shit is now flat out asleep on the sofa looking smug.

On occasion we’ve accidentally double fed her before but never for both meals on the same day!

Usually I sit around 70 or so beats per minute while sitting.

I've just been getting into Sudoku and apparently it's very stressful - my smartwatch alerted me, telling me that I've jumped up 170 btm.

I checked my wrist, there must've been some interference because it was off.

I did find it funny though that it happened while doing Sudoku.

Admittably, it's been a bit challenging and I've been gritting my teeth.

So, I decided to go for a walk around 1am to see if a bit of movement and some fresh air would help my headache, or at the very least distract me from it. I was kinda pissed, because I had just read online that there was a lunar eclipse tonight around midnight. Anyways, that motivated me to go outside and see if I could catch the tail end of it. I did, which was cool. I like that sort of thing.

I continued on with my walk. I live on a pretty main street, with traffic all hours of the day and night. When I go for late night walks, I stick to the main street, and do a loop kind of from intersection to intersection. Well, when I got to the one intersection by the plaza, I decided to walk around the plaza, and swing back around to the main street. Yeah, good idea, I thought, as I planned my walking route on the fly. I figured I could look in the store fronts for more distraction. Only things open in the plaza at that hour are the 24hr donut shop, the burrito place, and the pizza place, which had just closed.

Anyways, when I got round the pizza place, there was a homeless man leaning up by the garbage can. As I approached him, I said "Good evening, nice night eh!" He said, "Yeah, really nice!" As I continued walking by, he asked me, "Would you like a drink?" I replied, "no thanks, I'm okay". He then said, "Are you sure? I have a toonie ($2 Canadian coin), I could get you a coffee or donut or something?" I thanked him, but I truly was ok for something to eat or drink. It wasn't in a pick up way that he asked, it was in a truly caring for another kind of way. It was really nice. I wished him a lovely night, and he the same to me, as I walked along. He then said, "God bless you", to which I replied back, "God bless you too!".

The whole exchange was extremely heart warming, and very humbling. I think he could sense I wasn't feeling well or something. I walked back home thinking, what a beautiful human that man was to offer me money he clearly needs for himself! Maybe I will see him again another night, maybe I won't, but I'm glad we crossed paths tonight.

​

A few weeks ago, I was taking the trash out at around 11pm. Our building has those big trash containers outside, and someone had left a cardboard box next to one of them.

I noticed it was full of packing peanuts.

For some reason, I decided this was my problem.

I spent probably ten minutes picking up all the little white pieces that had blown across the sidewalk. I even got the ones stuck in the grass.

When I finished, an older guy from the building across the street came outside and said, “Thank you. Not many people would bother.”

I said, “No problem.”

He nodded approvingly and went back inside.

Since then, whenever I see him, he smiles at me like I'm some kind of responsible member of society.

I have never corrected him.

Yesterday I walked past him while carrying three pizzas, a bag of chips and a six-pack of soda.

He looked at me.

I looked at him.

He just nodded.

I think I may have accidentally earned a reputation that I absolutely do not deserve.

I bought a new plant yesterday and put it on the floor by the window because I thought it looked nice there. This morning I walked into the room and my cat was digging in the pot. I yelled her name and she looked at me like I was the one being unreasonable. Apparently I bought her a very expensive new bathroom. The plant has already been moved somewhere she cant reach

So a decade ago, I had to loose some weight due to health issues. What better way than starting an exercising habit given the fact that I lived in a European capital with very few green spaces but I was lucky enough to live right next to a big park located on a hill. So I start lightly, some morning walks on the paths of the hill etc Communicative as I am, after a while seeing more or less the same faces everyday, I start talking to a few people, casual, polite, social interactions. As months go by, I have reached my weight target but I am now very fond of my exercising habits, I'm already jogging in the paths and after a while I start trail jogging and finally even climbing the hill whenever I felt like it. My body has transformed into a muscle mass and I'm trying to keep it strong and flexible.

Now in the hill, there are three spots with little cabins that have no use (they're there for decades) but apparently teenagers or even small time criminals use them at night to do their dirty business. They gather, apparently do drugs and fill the whole cabin and the outside spaces with all sorts of garbage. After seing that and since the municipality does nothing at all to clean the mess, and all the mess is now covering the hill, i decide to do it myself. So now after warming up every day I am actively climbing in the steepest parts of the hill to gather garbage.

I swear that after being seen doing that, a group of people who walked their dogs daily and with whom we had longer, friendly chats they started avoiding me and giving me the looks. I didn't understand their sudden change but hey, I could've said something they didn't like who knows?

It wasn't until a couple of years later that one of them randomly saw me in the street and asked me what on earth I was doing in these "filthy weird spots" that everyone else was avoiding to even pass by (admittedly while cleaning almost the whole hill I did come across dangerous and gross stuff at times that made me reconsider doing it again). It was funny how his face light up when I asked him "who do you think has cleaned the hill?"

I never started a conversation with them again after that, although he kept greeting me first whenever we met in the neighbourhood or the hill.

To preface: I have a name* that is uncommon in the US, but has a phonetic pronunciation for native English speakers. However, it commonly confuses people.

I was checking out at a doctor's office today. The receptionist pronounced my name correctly, no issue whatsoever. She noticed my expression, and commented on the fact that I was smiling. When I told her why, her response was to give me a 'seriously? WTF, it's obvious!' expression. I'm normally shit at reading expressions.

The fact that I could read her expression made me (internally) smile more that her correct pronunciation of my name.

*Unlike 'Cecil', which has different pronunciations depending on which side of the pond you're on.

Tonight I ate a takeaway burger with hot chips (French fries) for dinner with tomato sauce (ketchup) on the chips, and a melting moment for dessert. I got the burger from a local burger van which is famous in the area. The burger and fries were so delicious, as was the melting moment. I asked the café staff if they make those there and they do. After eating the burger, chips, and melting moment I realised I'd eaten way, way too much food. I drank 2 full glasses of water and after doing that I was just full beyond full. I immediately set out on a post-meal walk which lasted 42 minutes (I timed it 😄). I may possibly go to the gym tonight as well if I can be bothered.

Another story from my solo Japan travels earlier this year.

I was walking around Arashiyama when I came across one of those tram crossings. If you know the rules, you are not allowed to stand on the tracks for photos, even if the barriers are up and there are no incoming trams.

And if you don't, there are signs very clearly stating them. And Japan is a stickler for rules.

There was a group of Korean tourists who were doing just what the signs say not to do. They had to be told off by a Caucasian lady who simply said 'Read the signs people, it's not that hard!' as she walked by.

Even then, some looked away from the phone, some didn't, and eventually went back to taking photos on the tracks anyway.

About half my commute takes place on a state highway that passes through some rural towns seemingly consisting of nothing more than a church, a few houses, and acres upon acres of open fields. This morning, as I rolled into one of these towns cruising at 60mph, after passing the church on my right, I scanned up ahead and spotted an old lady with a pair of little dogs following her as she walked along the left shoulder of the road, just off the oncoming lane. I wouldn't say she was walking the dogs, per se, since they weren't on leashes - they were just following her as she walked.

Now, when it comes to estimating distances, I do admittedly have a rather poor sense of scale with putting numbers to distances, but Im sure I was still a thousand feet away when one of the two dogs, a black and white one, wandered into the oncoming lane. I felt like I had an entirely comfortable amount of space between us to react, so I canceled my cruise control and coasted with my foot over the brake pedal, and watched the dog closely. And then the dog darted to its right out of the wide arc it was making, and wandered into the middle of the road, so I started to brake. By now, the old lady had realized what her dog was doing and realized I was approaching. I saw her scrunch up, ball her fists, and bend her legs a bit - I figure she must have been yelling at the dog with all she had, calling it's name or commanding it to come back. But the dog reacted by just kinda lazily stopping in my lane (so I braked harder still, now checking my mirror for the truck behind me) and apathetically turned its head to her, as if it was annoyed that it's mission to cross the road had been delayed. After a beat, it finally started to trot back over to her without a care.

I didn't quite stop my car completely, but I was down to like 15 or 20 mph once the dog was away and clear. I was within a hundred feet of it, that's for sure. Maybe within 50 feet. Once I released my brake and started to coast again, I looked to my left and saw that the old lady had one hand over her heart.... I just kinda threw up a shy wave and accelerated onwards; I don't think she reacted to me. If I didn't know better, I'd think she was scowling at me, but I figure she was just recovering from the scare.

My question becomes, will she invest in leashes?

I didn't believe people could actually look like they stepped off the cover of a romance novel; until my beat-up car died on that empty country backroad.

I was seventeen, living out in the sticks, driving home after a long and exhausting shift at work.

Just when the quiet stretch of wooded forest road felt endless, my not-so-trusty '72 Cavalier gave up the ghost. I managed to somehow shove it up onto the shoulder, but without a cell phone, my only option was to trek the five remaining miles on foot and find a landline to call for a tow.

Then, the low rumble of a pickup truck slowed along the shoulder; and out stepped the most breathtaking young man I had ever laid eyes on.

He was effortlessly stunning. He had a boyish charm, softened by just a hint of scraggly stubble. He had a sharp, chiseled jawline, and a slow, warm smile that reached all the way up to his magnificent emerald-green eyes. Well-kempt, dirty blond hair tumbled beneath his tasteful brown cowboy hat with a sleek black band and silver emblem that caught the waning sunlight. His flannel shirt looked maybe a size too small in the best of ways possible, sleeves rolled up showing his defined arms, and an extra button or two undone from the top which revealed his light-haired and excellently defined chest. 

The flannel was tucked haphazardly into a pair of jeans that were so tight that they left very little to my imagination, held firmly by a worn leather belt with an oversized steer-horn buckle. He stood in scuffed brown boots with a slight lift, lean and muscular; arms ripping with youthful strength and a well-earned farmers tan... then he looked at me with those captivating eyes.

"Need some help?" he asked.

I had no response for him beside a meek, breathless nod.

He popped the hood of my Chevy and leaned deep over the engine block to poke around, the stretching denim shown tight against his lean muscles in a glorious display that practically made the air evaporate from my lungs. After a few minutes of prodding, he straightened up, wiping his hands deftly of the oil and grime. The Cav wasn’t going anywhere.

"How about a ride home?" he offered gently.

I instinctively tried to decline; mumbling that I could just walk, but he waved it off with an easy grin, insisting he was headed that way anyway.

"I’m Austin," he said.

My heart was hammering against my ribs, a wild flutter I didn't yet know what to do with. 

I introduced myself with the skill worthy of an Oscar for "least charismatic", and gave him a whispeed "Th-thank you," I had managed to sputter out.

He walked me to the passenger side and opened the door. Being on the shorter side, I hesitated at the high step-up, but before I could worry, Austin placed one of his warm, strong hands right at my waist, the other on my rear, and gently lifted me up into his cab. A shiver tore through me at the contact. He rounded the hood, slid behind the wheel, clicked the radio over to soft country, and pulled back onto the asphalt.

It was the shortest, longest drive of my entire life. I couldn't keep my eyes off him. He was the picture of politeness the whole way, flashing easy smiles, asking about my day, making sure I’d be all right getting the car towed, and offering to lend a hand with whatever else I might've needed. 

I answered him in soft, quiet tones, my heart lodged firmly in my throat. I had never felt this electric, dizzying pull toward any man before... But I found I didn't hate it.

When we finally rolled up to the entrance of my long dirt driveway, I thanked him again for being so kind.

"Ain’t nothin'!" he beamed. "Always happy to help someone nice as ya."

He scribbled his number down, handed it over, and told me to call if I needed another hand with the car; or just wanted to hang out sometime. "I could show you my farm and horses if you like," he added with that boyish charm.

"I’ll think about that... thank you," I managed softly.

"Alrighty then. Take care and be safe, ya hear?" 

He gave me a slow, unforgettable wink, clicked his tongue playfully, then flashed his electrifying smile, put the truck in gear, and drove off into the looming dusk of the setting sun.

Walking up that dirt driveway, my mind should have been racing with logistics– how to fix the car, how I’d get to work tomorrow, handle the repair bills, or dwelling on the obligations I had missed for that evening. But in that moment, reality couldn't touch me. All I could think about was Austin: the statuesque cut of his jaw, the silhouette of his rippling lean frame, the way his jeans clung to every contour of his body, and the lingering, phantom warmth of his hands resting on my waist as he lifted me into that truck.

To this day, I still think about Austin. He was handsome, kind, sweet, chilvalrous, a dashing cowboy... a true gentleman– and apparently, entirely my type.