“I can't bust you for hooking” he called from behind her “but I could book you for indecent exposure!”Valerie stopped in her tracks and turned...around, eyeing him scornfully. “What the fuck do you want?”The flatfoot followed in her footsteps, catching up within seconds. “Maybe I'm looking for a good time. On the down-low, of course.”Valerie folded her arms under her ample breasts, her lips spreading into a smirk as her left eyebrow raised. “Do you even know about this block? This is tops-only. Just bad luck is all,” the fat guy said, lifting one butt cheek off the chair so he could scratch his ass.“What in the actual fuck are you talking about?” I asked.“See, you said ‘God damn it’, but I didn’t damn anything. You just had a bad case of Schrodinger’s Cat. It’s a shitty situation, but Lady Luck has to balance the scales somehow.”“A bad case of... are you talking about Murphy’s Law? Everything that can go wrong will go wrong? Schrodinger was something else entirely. Oh, but more to the. Today is Friday. I agreed to meet my friends, Ben and Bianca tonight at a bar in SoHo. They can’t wait to hear the wonderful news about my new and pseudo-exciting job. It’s 8:25 p.m. Bianca and Ben still haven’t arrived. I’m on my third Cosmopolitan. They finally arrive. Bianca looks as beautiful as always, with her wispy, shag-cut blonde hair. She’s wearing a black turtleneck sweater with matching black pantyhose and a gray, short skirt. Ben is wearing a dark green shirt, tie, and black. The native women were all bare breasted, wearing skirts to their knees and barefoot. I picked up a skirt from a market stall and started haggling, then a second, and then I returned to the car. "your clothes." I told her and handed her the two dresses.She started to argue, but realised the futility of argument and stripped off her shirt and jeans to reveal her thong and the leather straps and lock of the chastity belt.I took her bag and looked through it, the photographs I laid aside but the.