I heard the crashing noise. That was what made me turn around.

Then the not-so-soft sounds of someone cursing violently like a sailor. She was tall; I could tell that even as she squatted there in the parking lot, trying to wrangle her runaway office supplies while her empty bag flew away on the wind.

I hurried over and stopped a roll of packing tape with the toe of my shoe, my lunch still swinging by my side in a plastic bag. Nearly forgotten, might I add, because at that point I was fixated on her long, long legs and trying to figure out how she hovered like that, just above the macadam, on very high heels.

She looked up into my shadow as I held out the tape.

“Jesus, thanks,” she said, trying to take it from me. Her arms were already pretty full.

“Is this your... Read More