I was walking over to Jared's place the other night, when a car pulled up really slowly behind me.

That made me nervous, because although I was on a well travelled campus road, it *was* about 1am, on a Friday.

The car pulled up beside me. It was packed full of young guys.

Hmm. The bittersweet taste of adreneline, the sudden thundering of my heart.

This could end *badly*.

"How are you tonight?"

"I'm doing alright."

"Are you drunk?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I have to walk a straight line."

"Oh. Okay."

A pause. I'm still walking, and the car is driving very slowly along with me. Kind of jerkily, now that I think about it.

"Can I ask you a personal question?"

My hackles are raised. "Depends on what it is."

"Well, how about I ask it and then you decide whether to answer or not."

"Alright."

"Do you like sucking dick?"

I almost laughed. "No, not really."

"Oh. Good for you."

Another pause. I'm still walking. I'm closed to Taylor Drive, now, which is a very well trafficed road, six lanes wide.

"Have you ever sucked dick?"

"I don't think that's really relevant to the current conversation."

"Oh. No. I suppose not."

Another pause.

"Well, have a good night."

"I will. You too."

And they drove off.

~

So my adreneline is still coarsing, and I'm shaking from the chemicals pumping through my blood fighting against my slow, steady stride, and I'm walking along a long residential road.

The street lamps are weird in this area, and flicker, dim for a couple minutes, then bright.

And I'm wakling.

I'm tense, because of the adreneline, and I flinch a little as I walk by the few other pedestrians stupid enough to be out that late.

And I walk, and I walk.

I see a sillouette walking my way, about a block in front. I looked closer: it's male. Tense. A backpack on his back, I can tell by the way he walked, and a bag of groceries in one hand.

That relaxed me considerably.

I kept my eyes down, though, because I don't like meeting people's gazes at night, though I make a point to glance up when the other person is a few metres off, just to judge level of threat.

So I glanced up, and was *instantly* attracted to a perfect stranger.

It was weird. I've never had that happen before, not at just a glance.

He was shortish. Probably about my height, or a fraction shorter, but stocky. Not really heavy, per say, but built kind of like Mike: broad, rounded shoulders, slimmer waist. Walked like he had some muscle on him, but didn't really like using it.

He had a ponytail, too! Oh, a ponytail. God, how I lust after men with well kept ponytails. His was neatly combed back, and he wore it like I wear mine, at the nape of the neck. The ponytail part was short, just a single thick curl that arced into the back of his neck.

His hair was dark and thick, and turned half gold by the streetlamp. He had facial hair: a neatly trimmed goatee, but no obsessively neat. I like that.

I don't remember what he wore. A jacket. Pants. A shirt. A backpack.

He looked up too, like I do, and quickly looked down again, in a thank-god-it's-a-she-and-not-threatening-but-I-don't-know-what-to-make-of-her kind of way.

I get that look a lot.

And he turned the corner and was gone.

I admit, I do admit, I faltered to look where he was going.

I saw him the next day, too, in the afternoon walking back from Jared's. He was getting on the number 3 bus.

Wow.

Hot damn, that's all I gotta say.

And I'll never see him again.

Life happens that way. :)

.

Rosie.

Before&After