Why did she have to live on the same floor as me? She lived in number 637, I in 656. The doors passed. 630 . . . 631 . . . I needed to stop dwelling o... her, find someone else. . . . 633 . . . 634 . . . I could probably get laid tonight if I called my ex, the art student with daddy issues. . . . 636 . . . I stopped and faced her door. Was she even home? Would she even want to see me. That made me feel better. I had probably pissed her off. With that thought, I turned and started back. The door. I know what you’re thinking, a suit for the cinema is a bit over the top but I really wanted this night to work for me. I wanted to look as sophisticated as I possibly could be and impress my lady. I stood around for a good twenty minutes until I saw her wading across the parking lot to me. She was gorgeous. Her long blonde hair swayed in the breeze, her eyes stood out from the amount of eye shadow caked on her eye lids and her lips looked so delightful with a bright pink lipstick. Her long. More

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