In case the previous post piqued anyone's interest, here's what happened...
I was going along minding my own business when I saw movement a few houses ahead of me on the other side of the street. A woman--I'm pretty sure it was a woman--came out of a house and walked a few doors down to knock on someone's door.
The first thing my brain said when I saw her was, Whoa!
The second thing my brain said was, Whoa!
Okay, I think she may have been wearing some derivative of the "French maid's" costume/lingerie, but with a few yards of extra material in the bosomical area. And high heels. Her legs were naked.
Although she wasn't technically naked (which, by the way, is not always the best kind of naked), I have chosen this word specifically for the appearance she presented. By which I mean that everything from her ankle up to her crotch--including about an inch of under-butt--was totally bare. I thought maybe she had dashed outside for some important reason because she thought no one was on the street, but when she saw me she peered at me and slowed down.
So no one answered at that door and she went back to the original house, but instead of going back inside she stood outside and said hello to me. I said hello back. "It's humid, isn't it?" she asked, fanning herself with her hand. "Yep," I answered, while desperately hoping that my eyeballs wouldn't implode.
The third thing I thought after seeing her was: Clydesdale. As in a horse that could pull a beer wagon all by itself. She looked like she could straddle a tree trunk and snap it clean in two with nothing but thigh power. And she must have been at least 6 feet tall, even without the heels.
So I went on my way, studiously fixated on where the meters were and nothing else. But the image of the woman has been burned into my mind. A mocha Valkyrie; she could easily suckle two babes with one arm and effortlessly plow a path of carnage through a horde of berserker Vikings with the other.
Thank you for allowing me to share this with you.