August 2005
1 post
Her Name Was Wendy
She was dancing with someone else when I first walked in.
I must admit, I originally paid her no attention — well, maybe a furtive look at her figure as I passed by on the way to the bar — until I realized who she was: by then, it was too late. Women like that don’t wait for you to sweep them off their feet; waiting is a game they don’t know how to play.
I stood by the bar, quickly chasing my...