She is a secretary for someone else. An enemy of mine. Or more accurately, someone I regard as an enemy, who is also a colleague, and who I don't know well enough to dislike fairly. Someone I dislike because of his clothes and because he is good at his job: She is his secretary.

I take her to dinner because I had to schedule a meeting with him and when I went to his office to see him she was there but he wasn't. And she was writing down the time for the meeting on her little pad, and she dropped the stylus, and as she was reaching down to get it I could see down her blouse.

Let me make something clear: it is true that I am in the habit of looking down women's blouses when the opportunity presents itself. I think that this thing I do is unavoidable. I believe that there are some impulses they will never be able to crush, and that is one of them.

So I was looking down her blouse, and it was the happiest I have been in at least 48 hours, and I thought that the least I could do after looking down her blouse was take her to dinner. To make things right, I mean. To restore the balance of power. I felt like I was taking something to look down her blouse and feel happy like that. I thought that if I took her to dinner it would give back to her something like what I had taken, and maybe I would even get the chance to see down her blouse some more.

Plus I am in love with her.