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Driving down the street, minding my own business, I had my dog, Lady, sitting next to me. She's a great big beautiful Chow, and she often stopped traffic, being the attractive red head that she is. She was sitting up next to me like a real person, which she is, and I was stopped at a light. She loves to take a drive to the beach and often times would people watch where ever we went. So, she was being her little Lady self, enjoying the view, panting with her little black tongue hanging out, and drooling as usual. She was sniffing the air as her beautiful eyes seemed to dance as they so often do.
We were in Los Angles, stopped at a red light when my car was back about five cars lengths or so in the inside lane, when a biker pulls up next to me on the outside lane wearing full leather gear with a "Hell's Angel's" logo on his jacket, a leather hat, leather boots, and leather gloves. He was looking kinda rough around the edges, and honestly, I was getting scared. At first, I was intimidated because there were two car lengths in front of him that were empty. It didn't make sense why he would stop next to me.
I thought to myself, "Oh no, what's happening here?"
My heart starts to pound in my ears as my palms begin to sweat. Suddenly anxious, I'm not sure what to do. What's he doing? Why is he next to me? I swallow hard, and thought, "Oh, God, please help me."
Just then, he turns toward us in the car and slightly bends his head downward looking into the vehicle. Not sure what to do, I pretend that I don't notice him looking into the car, after all, what am I going to say. I didn't want to make eye contact and then feel obligated to get into some type of conversation. So, I just look at Lady and pet her as she pants happily smiling as always, oblivious to what's going on. Here she is enjoying life; meanwhile, I'm ready to have a panic attack.
Then, this big burley dude shouts over the roaring Harley and says in gentle, polite tone, "Excuse me, Mame,"
I said, "Yes," feeling instantly relieved he was so nice and not what I expected at all, I'm ashamed to admit.
He said laughing, "I was going to tell your girlfriend she has beautiful hair and see if I could get a date."
Shocked that he would even admit this to me, I just busted out laughing and said, "Believe me, she knows it! But if you want a date with her, you're gonna hafta kiss up real nice because she's not easy, you know."
He just starts laughing louder as the light changes green and he waves goodbye speeding off, realizing he really didn't want to date my pretty little girl after all.
I guess he realized she really wasn't his type.
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