turned ninety years old. He tried to move a little faster, lest a
centenarian race by him, too, leaving him to think he was the oldest person
alive. Sadness settled upon him, as he wondered why he had fallen.
Due to his creeping pace, he missed his regular train and
the one after that. The next one was already boarding passengers, when he
arrived. He gently entered the first car and walked hesitatingly like someone
unsure where to sit, although he wasn’t unsure at all. When he finally came to
an empty row, he took the window seat. He had walked nearly to the end of the
car, before coming to this empty row. He placed his briefcase in the aisle seat
next to him. Normally, he set it on the floor near his feet, but today he
wasn’t in the mood for company.
Moments before the train departed, his attention was
arrested by the dazzling appearance of a tall, blonde woman boarding the front
of the car. She seemed to be around thirty years old. Her exotic demeanor
indicated that she came from somewhere in Eastern Europe, maybe the Ukraine or Russia.
Bill couldn’t pull his eyes away from her. She was attractive, slim with a
large bust, and dramatically dressed in a miniskirt with a low-cut,
short-sleeved top and sleek, high-heeled shoes. She was stunning, except for a
noticeable air of hardness and determination in her behavior, which, along with
her rather big bones, took away from her feminine appearance. Bill couldn’t
detect any flaw, however. To him, she was a perfect female specimen.
She walked through the car, looking intently at all of the
male passengers, gazing like a cat in search of prey. Bill thought she was
looking for a seat, so when she looked at him, still some rows away, he flashed
her a big smile, which she returned after looking at him coldly for a few
seconds, as if she was uncertain. He removed his briefcase from the aisle seat,
and when she arrived at the row, she placed her small overnight bag in the
overhead rack and sat down next to him.
“Thank you,” she said in heavily accented English.
“No, thank you ,”
Bill responded eagerly. After sitting alone at home for so many days, feeling
sorry for himself, thinking of how he was going to find someone new to date,
and worrying about how much it would cost to go back to the dating agency, he
could barely contain his excitement. The answer to his prayers seemed to have
arrived, and she wasn’t overdressed either. He was nearly trembling with
anticipation. He was on the verge of throwing his arms around her. “It isn’t
every day that I get to ride home with a beautiful, young woman next to me.”
Looking at her long legs, which were almost completely visible, he said in
admiration, “That must be the shortest skirt I’ve ever seen.”
“It’s warm today,” she replied, making a small attempt to
pull her skirt down by the bottom hem.
“Yeah, it is warm,” Bill joked.
“But you look more than warm. You look hot .”
He smiled at her insanely.
She did not catch the joke and wondered why he was leering
at her. She actually thought he was criticizing her. “I am a little hot,” she
said. “I had to walk fast to catch this train. I walked fifteen blocks. There
are so many people on the sidewalk. It’s hard to hurry.”
“Even if you walk slow, you’re still hot,” he said, grinning
like a mad man. “You’re hot, because you’re hot. Other women could walk a
hundred blocks. They could run a
hundred blocks. And they would never be as hot as you. They might be panting
like dogs, but they would never be hot. You’re hot, hot, hot.” Bill gestured
with both hands, each time he said “hot.” “Do you see what I mean now?”
Laughing, she said, “I understand.” She began to relax, but
only a little. She wondered if a rich man would act like Bill. In her country,
a rich person would never act this way. A poor person wouldn’t act this way
either. But Americans are different, she said to herself, sometimes very
different.
“Since
centenarian race by him, too, leaving him to think he was the oldest person
alive. Sadness settled upon him, as he wondered why he had fallen.
Due to his creeping pace, he missed his regular train and
the one after that. The next one was already boarding passengers, when he
arrived. He gently entered the first car and walked hesitatingly like someone
unsure where to sit, although he wasn’t unsure at all. When he finally came to
an empty row, he took the window seat. He had walked nearly to the end of the
car, before coming to this empty row. He placed his briefcase in the aisle seat
next to him. Normally, he set it on the floor near his feet, but today he
wasn’t in the mood for company.
Moments before the train departed, his attention was
arrested by the dazzling appearance of a tall, blonde woman boarding the front
of the car. She seemed to be around thirty years old. Her exotic demeanor
indicated that she came from somewhere in Eastern Europe, maybe the Ukraine or Russia.
Bill couldn’t pull his eyes away from her. She was attractive, slim with a
large bust, and dramatically dressed in a miniskirt with a low-cut,
short-sleeved top and sleek, high-heeled shoes. She was stunning, except for a
noticeable air of hardness and determination in her behavior, which, along with
her rather big bones, took away from her feminine appearance. Bill couldn’t
detect any flaw, however. To him, she was a perfect female specimen.
She walked through the car, looking intently at all of the
male passengers, gazing like a cat in search of prey. Bill thought she was
looking for a seat, so when she looked at him, still some rows away, he flashed
her a big smile, which she returned after looking at him coldly for a few
seconds, as if she was uncertain. He removed his briefcase from the aisle seat,
and when she arrived at the row, she placed her small overnight bag in the
overhead rack and sat down next to him.
“Thank you,” she said in heavily accented English.
“No, thank you ,”
Bill responded eagerly. After sitting alone at home for so many days, feeling
sorry for himself, thinking of how he was going to find someone new to date,
and worrying about how much it would cost to go back to the dating agency, he
could barely contain his excitement. The answer to his prayers seemed to have
arrived, and she wasn’t overdressed either. He was nearly trembling with
anticipation. He was on the verge of throwing his arms around her. “It isn’t
every day that I get to ride home with a beautiful, young woman next to me.”
Looking at her long legs, which were almost completely visible, he said in
admiration, “That must be the shortest skirt I’ve ever seen.”
“It’s warm today,” she replied, making a small attempt to
pull her skirt down by the bottom hem.
“Yeah, it is warm,” Bill joked.
“But you look more than warm. You look hot .”
He smiled at her insanely.
She did not catch the joke and wondered why he was leering
at her. She actually thought he was criticizing her. “I am a little hot,” she
said. “I had to walk fast to catch this train. I walked fifteen blocks. There
are so many people on the sidewalk. It’s hard to hurry.”
“Even if you walk slow, you’re still hot,” he said, grinning
like a mad man. “You’re hot, because you’re hot. Other women could walk a
hundred blocks. They could run a
hundred blocks. And they would never be as hot as you. They might be panting
like dogs, but they would never be hot. You’re hot, hot, hot.” Bill gestured
with both hands, each time he said “hot.” “Do you see what I mean now?”
Laughing, she said, “I understand.” She began to relax, but
only a little. She wondered if a rich man would act like Bill. In her country,
a rich person would never act this way. A poor person wouldn’t act this way
either. But Americans are different, she said to herself, sometimes very
different.
“Since
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