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The one day I decide to wear a skirt, and I of course make my usual stop at my favorite chow joint in town. It's a fun little place, loud, noisy, full of people from every corner of town, and of course ...him. Oh, how my entire week is spent waiting for my traditional late night dinner at this stop, just so I can see him. He flashes that incredible smile as I walk in, no different than the genuine smile he gives each of his loyal clients as they come through those double doors. The noise and exhaust of the boulevard followed me in as I entered, joined by a gust of wind that has just sent this skirt I dared to wear flying around my legs in an excited dance. I reach down to smoothen the hem, and as I glance up, I see at least ½ a dozen pairs of eyes on me, including his. I look down and realize the entire deli has just gotten a very "Marilyn Monroe-esque" view of my legs, plus the added bonus of my ample cleavage spilling forth from my top. I didn't know whether to blush, or feel flattered. All that mattered is that he noticed. I was on a mission, and phase 1 was complete.

I sat at the bar, and ordered one of my usual drinks, Belvedere Vodka, straight up, extra dirty, with 2 olives. It's cool, crisp, and a drink that is to be enjoyed slowly. That gives us time for one of our usual chats, me and the bartender that is. There are some of the "regulars" around, and as I sit there enjoying my drink, I watch him work like a madman possessed. He fills all his orders as they spit forth from the register. He's chatting with his "regulars", shaking hands, exchanging the usual "how was your week", and other platitudes. Some are genuine, ...

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