WEATHER: Mercifully better (which is to say, 93 degrees).
MILES THIS WEEK: 26.
WHERE TO: Georgetown, Cleveland Park, Glover Park, etc.
Jessica released from the kiss of true love and looked deeply into Ryan’s eyes. She thought that he might be The One.
“I should let you know,” he said, “I’m a physical therapist AND a trained masseuse aside from this job, so really I’ll only be home at night to rub your shoulders, make sure you never get injured, and sleep with you. That’s about it.”
He was, indeed, The One.
Jessica’s cell phone buzzed in her pocket. She answered, only to hear Zuckerman’s assistant in an absolute frenzy.
“Mr. Zuckerman was ambushed by a bunch of angry hipsters wielding banana creme pies and sharp pointy sticks and is now in a humiliation-induced seclusion for the rest of his life! Can you take over his column indefinitely?”
“Absolutely!” chirped Jessica.
Just then, a truck crashed through the plate glass windows on the front of the store. Jessica and Ryan raised their forearms, blocking the spray of glass. A few shards scraped Jessica’s hand.
The truck driver, unharmed, came charging in. “I’m so sorry I smashed the store with my Diet Coke truck and injured you! Please accept a lifetime supply of Diet Coke as compensation!”
“OK!” said Jessica.
An elderly-but-healthful-looking yellow lab then scampered in through where the windows until recently had been.
“Buford!” yelled Jessica, recognizing the dog she had lost at 10 years of age.
A paperboy ran through the streets. “Extra! Extra! Eating excess amounts of peanut butter with a spoon cures cancer and all other afflictions! Also works with raw cookie dough!”
Jessica grew weak in the knees.
Her phone buzzed again. “Hello, Ms. Boudoir!” said the voice on the other end of the line. “Boston Athletic Association here, letting you know that you are just so damn talented that we will give you automatic entry for the rest of your life. Entry fees waived, of course. Cheers!”
Jessica giggled giddily.
“Did I mention that I hate it when women wear brassieres?” said Ryan. “You should probably just never wear one.”
Jessica died of happiness (metaphorically speaking, of course, for she was still alive enough to live happily ever and ever after).
<lights post-coital post-romance-novel cigarette>
Don’t act like you’re not impressed.