High Five Soul Mate

My High-Five Soul Mate I didn't give a fuck. My beard was wild and fell into the definition of unkempt. I just worked my sweaty, sweaty balls off for 8 hours pedicabbing people around in a sticky warm June Saturday evening. Finally the shift drew to a close and I though perhaps I'd find a last pedicabber at the old meeting spot on Trinity St. So I took my cab over and parked for a minute, and hoped someone might roll by. Just a minute or two later, a girl walks south towards me in a composed stagger, the one that tells you that for all the alcohol intake, the person is put together. I found this approaching woman to be stunning, and still at work, I proceeded to do my job: Talk to her. I started in with the old standby. "Hey! You want a ride?" Well it did what it needed to, she looked at me. "No thanks, I need a cab," she regretfully informed me. "I can take you to a cab," I mentioned with a giant grin on my face. "It's OK, I'll just get one myself," she shied. The moment of magnetism had commenced. I made my final mirthful pitch. "It's cool, you know what? I'll just take you to one for free. It's late, I had a good night. I'll make sure you get one safely. I know where they are all empty." She laughed a little and took that indicating first step towards me that let me know I won the point. "I don't know why I am doing this, but your BEARD is telling me to."