It was a thursday nite and I have been out with some friends and have become a bit drunk. I was on my way home. Waitin for the bus. At this busstop th...ere was a black lady also waitin for the bus. as I was a bit drunk I began talk to her which I had not done if I were sober. Any way I tried start a conversation but she did not almost answer me. I got a bit nuts andthougt I will not give up. I will talk with this lady and if she act like this I must try shag her just for fun. The minutes paste. Alan could only see the edge of her face-platinum blonde hair and big bug-eyed sunglasses-around the large side mirror as she leaned her head out. ‘What the hell are you doing, you dipshit?’ He opened his mouth, unsure how to reply. Then he felt a surge of blood pressure. His adrenaline hit, late to the party from the near miss. ‘I’m walking,’ he called. ‘You’re in the middle of the road, jackass!’ ‘This is a parking lot,’ he said pointedly. ‘Not a road.’ ‘You should be on a crosswalk!’ He. She cried softly until she fell into a light sleep. Arriving at Angie’s apartment, John gently woke her up, and walked her to her door. He got her keys out of her purse, opened the door, and took her inside. He stopped a moment to close the door. John led Angie to the bedroom, and helped her to undress, leaving her in her underwear. He went to her dresser, opened a drawer, and took out one of the oversized T-shirts in which she liked to sleep. He helped her put on the shirt, trying not to. Still the boy stood and stared and now the manager noticed something else. The boy, probably not more than 11 or 12, maybe 13, stood with one foot forward and on his toes; one hand clasped to his chest and the other extended downward with wrist flexed and fingers splayed. His head was turned at an angle, and tilted also and his shoulders were cocked at the opposite slant of his hips.Realization for the floor manager dawned: the exact same pose the mannequin stood in! Obviously, the boy was.