“Looks can be deceiving.”
What the hell does that mean? Is she talking about me? Or is it in response to a comment I made about her? She took the seat next to me at the bar about thirty minutes ago. Why next to me? There were at least four other unoccupied bar stools nearby. She was a knockout with her flowing red hair and the silky red dress split up to her upper thighs. I quickly planned the whole evening in my head. Confident in my strategy I leaned over, ops spilled the beer, and slurred to my future acquisition:
“Looks can be deceiving sweetheart but seeing is believing.”
Damn, that bar stool is slippery.