. No, intersection then right, then left again.The car drove, stopping at lights, making turns, moving farther and farther away from the Smithsonian. ...nd with every turn, I had harder and harder time remembering the orders. Was it two left turns then right? And where was the pothole? And how would this even help anyways? It was so pointless trying to keep track.So frustrating.I wished right then that my intelligence serum would run out. I would give anything to be an airhead bimbo, not caring. . . “Well?” I said do you really want to see it? He replied “absolutely” So I stood up taking a deep nervous breath and unbuttoned my shirt, took it off and opened my pants and looked at him, he was smiling very calmly. I opened my pants and took them off . . . There I stood, with nothing on but a very expensive white lingerie set in my kitchen in front of a handsome stranger who I only knew to be Steve. I said, “Well this is me” I was embarrassed so I sat down and crossed my legs, and tried to. More

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