The woman in leather

'Something about that woman in leather seems exciting.' you think to yourself. You go over and introduce yourself. As you approach, with her heels, she must be at least 4 or 5 inches taller than you.

"Hi, my name is John."

"Hi, John. My name is Caroline."

"That's a pretty name," you reply. "Such an interesting outfit, too. I'm sure a lot of the guys in here are giving you the stare."

"I'm used to it," she says. "In fact, I dress for it. I like the type of guy who is interested in a woman dressed in all tight leather."

The two of you continue to talk back and forth. You have a drink. Then another. Then another. Before you know it, it's after 11 p.m. and you are heavily intoxicated. "Whoa, I need to head home to my girlfriend."

"I'll give you a ride," Caroline says. "You're in no shape to drive. But I don't think you should be going home. If you're spending your Saturday night here, you probably would be a lot happier somewhere else. Why don't we head to my place?"