College student Sydney Westmore glared at her boyfriend. What? She wasn't good-looking enough? So much so that he had to eye other girls in the restaurant?
She looked over at the table he was looking at. There were two ordinary but pretty girls, one freaky girl dressed in black, and their mother, who was a total MILF. Her boyfriend kept eyeing the oldest of the three girls and he wasn't being discrete about it either.
Sydney had enough. She slammed her napkin down on the table, which got his attention.
"What?" he asked, seeing the look of anger on her face.
"That girl is at least six years younger than you, Matt."
"Uh ... what girl?" he asked, feigning ignorance.
"Oh don't be stupid. The girl you've been staring at ever since we sat down." Sydney huffed in anger, then stood up. When she did, however, she accidentally bumped into a waiter walking by. Fortunately, all he was carrying was a tray full of glasses of water, but the clash was enough to soak her blouse. "See what you made me do!" she yelled at Matt, who looked back with startled eyes. "My shirt is ruined."
Everyone stopped talking and eating, and looked at her. She was creating quite the commotion. This date was turning into a train wreck. Sobbing, she ran out of the restaurant and out into the parking lot.
Once there, she was met by man in a trench coat. In her hurry to leave the building, she almost ran straight into him.
"Whoa, whoa there," he said, holding up his hands defensively. "My my, that shirt is quite wet, isn't it?"
"Yeah," Sydney said, still sobbing a bit.
"In this weather, wearing something wet like that could cause you to get sick. Fortunately for you, I have a spare shirt you can use."
"Really?" she asked, not at all suspicious of this guy's motives. She just wanted to get her wet shirt off and put a dry one on. And if this guy had one with him, why not take it?
"Sure," he said, pulling a T-shirt out of his trench coat. It had some writing on it, but Sydney didn't give it any further thought. The shirt was dry, so it was just what she needed.
And in no time, she had taken off her wet blouse and donned the dry T-shirt.
The stranger in the trench coat smiled, then said "I'm glad I could help," before walking away.
Sydney looked down at the T-shirt and read what was printed on it. It said ...
