OUT OF SAN DIEGO

  The sun peered through the afternoon clouds as the morning rain subsided and continued it's journey eastward. Ground water sprayed away from a set of new tires attached to a bright red convertible as it pulled on to the Interstate Five Freeway. The driver took one last look at San Diego as it shrank and disappeared in her rearview mirror. Drops of water that had collected on the car were beginning to streak back as the car picked up speed. The driver pressed a button on the dashboard and the top popped open and retreated into a pack behind the back seat. The sudden rush of wind sent her long, blonde hair flailing around her and she brushed it away with her hand.

  She was a very attractive woman, about 5' 3", and was dressed in cut-off jean shorts and a button up Hawaiian shirt with the sleeves rolled up around her upper arms. Her feet were clad in leather sandals with open toes and thin straps hugging her heels. She shifted into third gear and began to flip through radio stations until flicking it off in dissatisfaction.

  She looked down at her feet and wiggled her toes. There was a thin gold band on one of them and it glistened as the sun shined down on it from behind her in the sky. As she stared she began to feel the leather tightening against her skin. She watched as her toes slowly crept beyond the base of her sandals. Her skin turned red where they strained against the soft material and, when she listened hard enough, she could faintly hear the sound of leather trying to stretch and accommodate her growing feet. Her bra was beginning to squeeze her uncomfortably as her already impressive bust expanded beyond it's holding capacity. Her shorts were creeping up her tan thighs and the waistline was beginning to pinch her. With a quick breath and a sudden gasp of pleasure the top button on them burst open with a solid pop.

  She glanced at her lower half and smiled. She could see her navel where her shirt had untucked itself and risen to her midriff and the black silk panties she had on underneath her shorts. One of her sandals lost its struggle and the leather lace-work across the top of her foot snapped open in several places with loud pops and set her foot free. She kicked off the remnants of it onto the floor of the passenger side and rubbed her foot to sooth away the redness.

  She broke into an even wider smile as she looked back forward, shifted into fourth gear, and slammed down on the accelerator pedal. The force of it broke the heel strap on the other sandal and with a tug from her hand she tore the leather off the top and placed what was left of it next to it's partner. With a quick inhale her bra ripped open in the front and she pulled it off and threw it out of the car.

  She giggled as the fabric of the Hawaiian shirt rubbed against her breasts, tickling her sensitive nipples as she breathed, causing them to quickly become erect.

  The blonde slipped into the fourth lane as she stretched her long legs in front of her and sped up to 80 MPH.

-     -     -

  Sara sat in her apartment. The place was a mess because she hadn't had the time to clean it for the longest time. But since she didn't have work until later in the afternoon, she had the option of tidying up; she chose not to as she lay on the couch and flipped through channel after channel.

  She passed up a bad video on MTV, paused to watch a few seconds of a Sean Connery film festival, and ultimately stopped on a soccer game. An old boyfriend had gotten her hooked on the sport a few years ago and she had been watching it ever since.

  Sara was attractive; dark brown hair that had a heavy curl to it as it dangled around her shoulders, a soft voice that had once been described as dulcet, quite the charming personality tinged with the slightest hint of sarcastic wit, and keen fashion sense. All wrapped up in a nice little package.

  Well, not that nice by Sara's standards anyway.

  She was 4' 7" and had topped out at this massive stature at the tender age of 16. Some people would call her minuscule (but didn't have the option of ever saying it again if she had anything to say about it) or snicker quietly as her light, 94 lb. frame walked down the street and it was a burden that was becoming to heavy to bear. She looked at the clock : 10:59 A.M.

  A small display counted off the seconds and she stared at it. The phone rang once on the table next to the the beaten sofa.

48 ... 49 ... 50 ... 51.

  The phone chirped again, an announcer was commenting on the tremendous accuracy of a recent bicycle kick.

52 ... 53 ... 54 ... 55.

  What was that faint sound? So far away.

56 ... 57 ... 58 ... 59.

  The panel morphed in front of her eyes as the time melted into late morning.

  The phone, I know who it is, I know what she wants. Damn it.

  The phone rang one last time. She picked up the receiver.

  "Hi Stephanie."

  "Glad to hear you up and about this morning."

  "I had to get up sooner or later."

  "Well?"

  "Well what?"

  "Uh oh. Sounds like someone's date sucked last night."

  "It's much worse than you think."

  "Meet at Star's in ten to bitch about it?"

  Sara was silent for a second.

  "Sure, I guess so."

  "See you there."

  Sara hung up the receiver and stared at the T.V. Replays of a goal were being shown repeatedly from different angles and then the commercials started. Images of models walking barefoot in the sand drifted by while upbeat drum music sang out through the speakers. She squinted in anger. On and on they paraded.

  Tall sticks with plastic chests that Santa brought them for Christmas, she thought. Tyra Banks, Claudia Schiffer, Cindy Crawford, Rebecca Rom...

  Sara threw the remote control across the room where it connected with the power switch of the cable box and the picture blinked out of existence.

-     -     -

  "So you had a lousy date, big deal. These things happen." Stephanie was pouring sugar into a mug of house blend and was determined to find the perfect amount of cream to add without wiping out the flavor. "It was a blind date anyway. No one expects those things to work out. So what happened anyway?"

  Sara didn't even bother fixing her coffee, she just sat down and sulked at a table in the corner of the bar.

  "What do you think happened? He took one look at me and he couldn't wait to get out of there."

  "Why? What's wrong with you? You're way prettier than most girls I know. You're smart and great wi..."

  "Oh stop it. You know damn well what it is. Guys rarely like women who need a step ladder to climb into bed."

  "You're not that short."

  "Well, I'm not dunking basketballs either." Sara leaned back in her chair and felt her feet leave the ground, she could feel the familiar tears welling up, but forced them down. "It's not like he was any kind of fucking prize. Barely knew how to use a fork and he couldn't even keep his damned mouth shut while chewing. He thought it was more important to annoyingly boast about the great deal he got on his butt-ugly suit."

  "Sara! I've never heard you talk like that before; and you split an infinitive, shame on you."

  "I don't care anymore, men suck. All they want is 5' 10", 36 - 24 - 36, and so dumb all they have to do is buy dinner and skip the movie all together. Bunch of pigs. They can all go to hell."

  Stephanie was stunned. All she could do was sip her coffee in silence.

  Sara shook her head.

  "I'm sorry, it was just a totally rotten evening. I tried to make it work in the beginning, but after a while I just got up and left."

  "You ditched him?"

  Sara nodded, then shrugged.

  "Did you at least say goodbye?"

  "No I left him and ended up walking home. I never would of left the house again if it wasn't for this woman I met in the park."

  Stephanie had polished off her coffee and was looking at the bottom of the mug for any sugar her tongue might have missed.

  "Who? What did she do?"

  "Well, it began raining when I was about halfway home and I started looking for shade to wait it out. I found a tree with nice thick branches to sit under for a while and..."

-     -     -

  Great! Just what I need to make this the perfect evening.

  Sara glanced up as small drops of cool water dripped aimlessly out of the cloudy sky. The bright lights that shined throughout the park reflected off the rain as it began to come down in larger beads. Unable to shield herself with her small hands, Sara looked about aimlessly for shelter. She spotted a tall tree with broad branches and decided it was her best chance to stay dry.

  The above average rain fall the past winter had made all of the foliage especially thick and particularly useful as a makeshift umbrella. Sara sat on the slightly damp ground and sulked.

  Stupid blind dates. Rotten, miserable, stupid, fucking, blind dates.

  At this point Sara couldn't even remember the guy's name, even when she actively tried. She could, however, remember all of the inane details about the tweed jacket that his brother had gotten him on sale from some factory outlet store.

  The rain began to come down in thicker sheets as she curled her arms around her legs. Sara had to admit, the tree made pretty good cover. She buried her head in her knees and quietly began to cry. Because she was content to sob away, she never took notice of a petite blonde who was working her way through the miniature forest.

-     -     -

  "So what was she doing in the park?" Stephanie was sifting through packs of jams and jellies and was disappointed when all she could find was orange marmalade. Sara was slathering an english muffin with what seemed to be the last of the strawberry preserves. She stopped in midspread and crinkled her forehead.

  "I don't know. Come to think of it, I didn't even think of asking her that. I guess it just seemed kind of natural, quite soothing for her to be there actually. Now it seems like a good question."

  "There you go; strange woman wandering around and you don't even think to ask her what she's doing there?"

  "Stop it. I needed a shoulder to cry on and her's was as good as any. Anyway, as I was saying..."

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