"Wait, Can I See That One More Time?"

A nice-looking college age guy comes in (a regular custumor) wearing a black hoodie and jeans. He appears pretty stoned, which is not unusual for him. He grabs a bag of nacho-flavored Doritos and a bottle of Mountain Dew, brings them up to the register, then asks me if I saw Sunday's AFC Championship game in which the New England Patriots beat the Indianapolis Colts 45-7.

"Yeah, I thought it would be a closer game, but I am glad New England won," I reply.
"Dude! Me too! I LOVE the Patriots!" he says.

He reaches down and pulls the bottom of his sweatshirt up, apparently in an attempt to show me a T-shirt underneath.

"Look what my Dad gave me dude, an old Patriots T-shirt!" he says.

But I see no T-shirt. Just a well-defined chest, a nice, rock-solid set of abs and a sexy "happy trail" disappearing beneath a pair of Calvin Kleins showing above his jeans and belt.

"Nice abs," I say. "Do you work out a lot?"

He looks down, confused.

"Dude, I thought I had my Pats shirt on . . "
"I think you pulled it up with your sweatshirt," I say.

He looks again, then holds the bottom of his T-shirt down while this time managing to just pull his sweatshirt up. It is a nice shirt. Vintage. Red, with an image of a football helmet with the old Patriots logo of .  . . well, a patriot.

"That's pretty cool," I say. "Can I see it again?"

Again he pulls up both his sweatshirt and T-shirt. All I see is a well-defined chest, a nice, rock-solid set of abs and a sexy "happy trail" disappearing beneath a pair of Calvin Kleins showing above his jeans and belt.

"Very nice!" I say.

As he is leaving I ask, "Wait, can I see that one more time?"

He obliges.

Yes, very nice!