The Pretty Woman / by Cyle Talley

It is Sunday and the church bells are ringing and I am walking down the street and the pretty woman- brunette, tan, fit, statuesque- walks, strides even, toward me sipping a Starbucks and leading her dog- a really ugly mutt that looks to be corgi, lab, chihuahua, and terrier- on a short, bejeweled leash. 

I should stop and introduce myself. If the pretty woman's taste in men is at all similar to her taste in dogs, I stand a real chance.