May 15, 2002
Stripped to the waist, he worked on my car aggressively. That morning it wouldn’t start. The engine overturned but nothing else. As I was trudging back to my apartment, cussing aloud, he appeared out of the building next to mine. Eyes connected, held. A few brief words and he was going to check it out for me. I checked him out. Nice taut muscles, brown hair and eyes, moist lips. I couldn’t venture past the waist or I’d betray my interest. He was talking, I was staring, he moved closer, I looked away, he took my hand, I thanked him.