I was wearing my matching red and white warm up suit with aviator shades and my cell phone was clipped onto my fanny pack. You, tall, beautiful, blond haired, blue eyed vision. You were crying because your retarded puppy kept eating poo. I said it was going to be all right (once the dogs digestive tract matured anyway) you said you liked my moustach and I saw in your eyes that you admired the way my gold chain nestled in my chest hair. You ran away before I could get your number, where are you?