I love Chicago yet again

Standing outside the office on LaSalle, a homeless woman walks past. I recognize her as the very bizarre lady who flashed me her breasts years ago on the Ravenswood train. I have always said that all women are beautiful, but at that moment my opinion was challenged.

She walks by, turns and walks by again. Finally she approaches.

“Why are you following me?” she asks, a voice like sandpaper.

“I’m not.”

“You wanna fuck me?”

“No.”

“You hot for me?”

“No.”

She leaves.

I go back up to the office feeling strangely flattered.