And it was then, when I finally decided to tear my eyes away from that train wreck and peer across the street that I saw...him: hunky ice cream truck boy. Clean shaven. Big guns. Taut calf muscles, like, totally working it in those tight white uniform pants as he peddled that thing uphill. Sigh. I crossed immediately - waving and batting my long, pretty eyelashes - not quite realizing that this was a six lane high traffic kind of street at five o'clock on a Tuesday. And high heels aren't very like...mobile.
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