It had been a long day at work, and I was tired and driving home in the pouring rain and dark of night. My mind was on autopilot but I was distracted and didn't notice the warning light on the dash. Suddenly I saw steam coming out from under the hood of the car, and by that time it was too late. The engine started knocking so I took the next exit off of the highway. I barely made it as the car became hard to control. At the end of the off ramp there was an open field, so I pulled into that just as the car's engine quit. I tried to start the engine but it was down for the count. I knew I'd have to get towed out of there, so I grabbed my cellphone, only to see that the battery was dead. It was a residential neighborhood, so there were no businesses nearby where there might a phone I could use. I figured I had a long walk in the cold rain on my hands, when I suddenly realized I recognized the neighborhood. I was near the home of Carol, a former co-worker. Carol and I were more than just co-workers, as we had become friends, although we had lost regular contact over the last several years.

I couldn't remember exactly where it was, but I knew the street and I figured Carol's house was about a block or so away. So I got out of the car and started to walk. The field was drenched and extremely muddy, so my shoes and the cuffs of my pants got covered with mud. Of course, the ground wasn't even and I slipped and fell, my knees and hands dropping into the mud, making things even worse. I got up, wiped my hands on my shirt and moved on. All this time the rain was falling hard, drenching me and my clothes. As I navigated the neighborhood, things began to look familiar, and then finally I recognized Carol's house. I was in luck, as the lights were on inside so I knew Carol was home. I was a wet, muddy mess, but I only planned on asking Carol to call Triple-A to send me a tow truck.

When I got to her porch I hesitated. I remembered Carol was quite diligent about keeping her house clean and tidy, and I knew she wouldn't appreciate me tracking mud onto her porch. She can also be quite harsh with those that don't adhere to her high standards. But hoping she would see that I only needed her to make a call, I thought she would overlook my condition given the circumstances. With some small remaining reluctance, I rang her doorbell.

With just a touch of anxiety, I waited for what seemed like an eternity, and then I heard the sharp clicks of shoes, probably high heels, growing louder, and then the doorknob turned and the door opened. Bathed in the light from the porch was Carol, standing in a confident pose as she processed my presence at her doorstep. Carol's image struck me like a bombshell. She was the picture of a woman of elegance and class, her hair perfect and her skin smooth and radiant. She wore a dress that followed her curves from her neckline to just above her knee. It was by no means conservative, as it accentuated her body and displayed her cleavage, but it was also far from slutty. And of course, her feet were embraced by sleek, sultry high heels. It was a sexy and classy look that I had not seen her in before, and it took me aback and robbed me of my speech. Simultaneously, I had feelings of surprise, awe, reverence, fear, and admiration, and I was not able to find words to convey my thoughts.