A lift

If the tale is to make any sense you should read QT119

The story from the other end:

She had offered him a ride home. Something she had never done before. But he looked like the right guy to give a lift to. Tall, handsome. Well! Not really. But he had a nice smile. And seemed like someone who wasn't the everyday guy you meet at work. In the car she liked his blabbering nervousness. His discomfiture. A change from the suave and smooth James Bondian guys she had met before. Terrible weather, he discovered and she nodded. What a lame piece of cliched conversation. Terrible weather indeed. Then he burst, nice shoes, pair of good legs and blah! Then he made the cardinal sin - I don't fancy you, he declared, you are not my kind. Her face fell, a deflated balloon. Do I take a right here? Iciness in tone. He got out mumbled some thanks and ran indoors. She drove to her own lonely apartment. Why can't I have a decent relationship with someone nice? Am I a nice-guy repellant, she cried to herself. I don't want to see another human for the next ten years.