She’s small – maybe 5 feet. Maybe not even. She wore a tight grey tank. Her breasts – round, full – strained at the tank. Her eyes are deep deep brown. She has a super-cute dimple in her right cheek, close to her lips. She has a big mouth (literally and figuratively – “I talk a lot,” she told me). And a bigger smile.

She wore beige khakis. When she walked away, I admired her tiny body.

FUCK, I thought. Fuck.

But that was at the end. Before she left, I learned all this:

She’s 28.

She’s engaged.

She’s generous, flirty: she offered me the second half of her sake (she didn’t want to be drunk before she started her shift). Then, she asked if I had advice, as a guy who’s been married for a while, for her.

I said, basically, infidelity happens in marriages.

It already happened in hers, she told me. And they’re not even married yet.

It got me to thinking. I really should write an “advice to young newlyweds” column, or some such. Or maybe, to young engaged couples.

This isn’t that.

This is just me saying that she’s super hot.

Stay tuned for those other columns.

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