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     You step out of your car, straightening your skirt with your hands and slam the door behind you.  You breath in deeply, enjoying the sweet morning air and stroll inside.  You push the heavy glass doors open and walk into the foyer.  Mr McAllister is standing at his usual post at the corner of the hallway, next to the elevators, no double making his daily count and mental note of who comes in on time and who doesn't.  He greets you casually as you walk by,  adding, "It's nice to see you making an effort to come into work on time."  You smile and continue to the elevators.  You make your way to your desk and sit down at your computer, switching it on and rolling your eyes at the familiar sound as windows boots up.  The little colored wheel spins and spins, like a roulette wonder if,  like many will just keep spinning until you call tech support.  It finally settles on some undisclosed number and your password screen pops up.  


     The day drones on uneventfully.  Lunch rolls around and you throw your purse over your shoulder and grab your phone and your keys.  You head out to your car, contemplating what sounds good for lunch.  You push open the double glass doors and file out with the rest of the desk monkeys.  You step off the curb and are nearly run over by an extremely sexy black and chrome motorcycle.  The rider whips off his helmet and his dark hair glistens in the sun.  


     "Im so sorry!"  He exclaims.  "I just got this thing, I'm still getting the hang of it."  


You smile sweetly and tell him its not problem.  He puts the helmet on and speeds away.  A momentarily lapse in judgement fills your head as you wish you would have jumped on the back of that bad mamajamma.  

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