The Bombshell

I had a life threatening experience today. I was completely minding my own business, and, as far as I can tell, was undeserving of the horror that was about to happen to me. I walked through the front door of a Barnes & Noble and was suddenly assaulted by the sight of a beautiful woman.

Let me emphasize this. She was beautiful. Not pretty, hot, or cute. Actually, honestly beautiful. Like Helen of Troy beautiful. Not supermodel thin, but with full hips and a trimmed stomach and flawless posture. I actually experienced one of those cheesy cinematic moments where time slows down and everything beyond this picture perfect embodiment of beauty fades into streaks. She moved in a perfect manner, her hair was perfect (dark brown with a slight wave), as was her outfit (matching black blouse and skirt of exactly the right length), and the precise way she held herself (sunglasses in one hand, raised as if she was about to don them, a couple of books in the other hand held beneath her breast). Her face was full of confidence and was composed of smart, intelligent eyes, a powerful smirk, and flawlessly exact makeup. AND SHE WAS WALKING RIGHT AT ME.

I dodged out of the way and ran for my life.