<\/p>\nThe Girl on the Street<\/i><\/h1>\n
<\/center>I was walking home at about three AM, taking in the cool, crisp night air and smiling to myself. As I came up to Hudson St., passing a Hollywood Video on my left and Blockbuster on my right, both lighting the street more than the streetlamps were, I saw a girl.<\/p>\n
She was standing at a bus stop, which was odd for this time of night. The busses don’t run that late, and she was alone, so she wasn’t just passing the time there.<\/p>\n
She was very pretty, with light skin and dark hair, and bright blue eyes. She wore a long black coat over a white shirt and a short black skirt. Her shoes were strappy heels that added about three inches to her height. Even without the heels, though, she would have been about 5’10”.<\/p>\n
She caught my eye, and looked me over for a moment. I smiled, and she smiled back, but there was something more than just a friendly smile in the corners of her mouth.<\/p>\n
I didn’t slow down, just kept walking. It was already late, and I wasn’t interested in stopping right then.<\/p>\n
I passed by her, and had gone about four paces when I heard, “Hi.”<\/p>\n
I paused, and turned around. “Hi,” I said back to her.<\/p>\n
“Um, do you know if the busses are running?” she asked.<\/p>\n
I smiled. “No, they stop running at midnight, I’m afraid. Where are you going tonight?”<\/p>\n
Her face fell a bit. “Oh,” she said, and bit down on her lip. “I just got off work. I was going home.”<\/p>\n
“Really? Where do you work, and where do you live?”<\/p>\n
She pointed up the street. “I bartend up at one of the bars. Do you drink much? You should come to my bar.”<\/p>\n
By this time I could tell she’d been drinking quite a bit. “Can I walk you home?” I asked, still having no idea where “home” might be.<\/p>\n
“Sure. I live a few blocks that way.” She took a step toward me and I noticed how unsteady she was on her feet. I stepped toward her and put a hand around her waist.<\/p>\n
“All right, let’s get you home,” I said, starting down High Street. “Just tell me when to turn.”<\/p>\n
She went along with me easily, putting her arm around my waist as well, and leaning into me. “I usually don’t drink after work, but I had a rough night. I think I had too much.”<\/p>\n
“Oh, I don’t know,” I replied. “You seem fine to me.” At that point, she missed a step and leaned into me more. My other arm went to her hip on instinct to keep her from falling forward, and she regained her balance.<\/p>\n
“Thanks,” she said.<\/p>\n
We walked south on High Street to the UDF, then made a left. She had seen an ex-boyfriend in the bar with another girl, and had started doing shots with a customer not long after that. I listened and talked to her, but mostly just smiled and nodded while she described her night and the last few months of her life.<\/p>\n
She directed me to her house, and I took her up to her gate. “Here you are,” I said as I took my arm from around her waist and unwrapped her arm from mine.<\/p>\n
“Do you want to come in for a while?” she asked.<\/p>\n
“No, I ought to get home. It’s late, and I have an early morning tomorrow.”<\/p>\n
She was a bit crestfallen, but tried another tack. “Can I get your number or something?”<\/p>\n
“No, I just wanted to make sure you got home safely, that’s all. Have a good night.” I turned on my heel and walked away, glancing back once to give her a wink, and then disappearing around the corner.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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