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As I sat at one of the tables, grumbling to myself and munching McDonald's finest, a woman came in and ordered some food. I noticed her casually, because she wasn't a beauty, really, though she had lush lips and a mysterious face....like one of those classy "dames" in an old detective movie. She was just a tiny bit on the plump side....more like full bodied, but firm. Her hips were well shaped, forming what appeared to be a delightfully soft, round bottom that struggled playfully against her snug, mid-thigh length dress. I wouldn't call her waist trim, but she was nowhere near fat. She filled her tight black dress admirably, with curves in all the right places. Her hair was black...long and shiny. Her eyes were likewise dark. Her hair, eyes and lips contrasted her light complexion, as did the black dress. Her feet clacked on the floor as she walked to a table in her black high heels. To complete her dark ensemble, she wore sheer, smoky colored stockings. As I said, she wasn't starlet material, but she was a knockout the way she was dressed, especially to a college boy who was used to girls in jeans and sandals - or, worse yet, sneakers. Other than admiring her briefly, I really didn't pay too much attention to her at first. As I said, I was twenty, and this woman, though attractive, appeared to be in her mid thirties. And as we all know, the watchword back then was, "never trust anyone over thirty". Besides, I was too busy bemoaning my life at home and my dateless existence at school. I contented myself with chowing down food and wallowing in self pity. I didn't notice the attractive woman sit at a booth to my right and slightly behind me. I continued to enjoy my self-imposed isolation dinner.