The
woman walked away from the table, leaving her number on a cocktail napkin. Both
men watched her leave, hips swaying to the music. Terry looked at Allen and
sighed.
Why
do I always get the ugly ones?
Ugly?
Allen replied. He grabbed the napkin and held it up. This woman, this Veronica,
was hot. I mean smoking hot.
Terry
winced. You’ve got to be kidding me. Did you see her philtrum? It had to be at
least two-centimeters wide. And don’t get me started on her dorsum, either. Christ!
I do have standards, man.
Allen
was speechless. After a while he opened his mouth.
Did
you see those big, juicy tits, Terry? Not to mention that skinny waist and
round, round ass. Allen used his hands to diagram; it looked like he was
holding an invisible basketball.
Terry
yawned. Well, he said, Not just anybody can date an
otorhinolaryngologist.
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