Tonight at work, I swear, the Most Beautiful Man in the World came through my line. And if I'm not mistaken, I think he might have been flirting with me. He pointed to the current issue of Runner's World behind him, featuring only a tiny shorts-clad, tight-bodied man on the cover and said, grinning, "Is that all it takes to look like that, just jogging?"
"I guess so," I replied. "The magazine wouldn't lie."
"I used to run," he contined. "I used to be fit."
"Well," I said, "You still look pretty good to me."
Oh shit. Did I say that out loud?
He grinned from ear to ear.