"Miss, are you all right? Can I help you?" I said. She just stared back at me. She said nothing. "Miss, you can't stay here; you'll freeze to death." ..."Huh?" she said "Miss, let's go down to the all night donut shop," I said. Well, I couldn't just walk away and leave her there could I. She looked at me strangely, like she had just thought of something. She struggled to get up, and she came with me. I helped her walk; she was stiff as could be from laying there in the cold. And, I could tell. “What is it Mum?” She asked.Ann hesitated before replying. “You know when you did that….you know….what you did…”“My finger up your bum you mean,” Jenny smiled. “You liked that didn’t you, crikey Mum, you came like a waterfall.”Ann went bright red, she hesitated again. “Is that something you do a lot?” She asked.“Mmmm,” Jenny replied, “not just a finger either.”“What do you mean?”“You’ll soon learn Mummy,” Jenny replied, “all the girls take it up their bum these days.”“What…..you mean. I decided to let him as I was still annoyed with Marco and though that maybe if he saw me dancing with this guy, Marco might come and pay some attention to me and dance with me himself. The guy put his hand on my hip and held my hand as he led me into a dance in time with the music. He was a pretty good dancer and I relaxed, enjoying dancing with him. When the song finished, Sabrina and I went back to the bar but Marco still seemed more interested in talking to his buddy than to me and. ”“Seven thirty it is then. What’s your name?”“My name is Boris. I already have your cell phone number, courtesy of Joyce. I’ll call you with a reminder at seven tomorrow.”As she walked into the lobby of the hotel, a woman walked up to her with a microphone in her hand, a cameraman following her. “Linda Spencer? I’m Terri Moyer from the local CBC television affiliate. Do you have any reply to yesterday’s article in the National Rag?”“Isn’t that the same paper that claimed I was Tiger Woods’.