There’s nothing better than leather pants he thought as he gazed at the back side of a pair across the bar. Must be God’s greatest design, no panty lines. If she could see him right now, she’d probably slap him, but what’s the harm if she’s turned the other way. How to approach a pair of pants like those. He toyed with it in his mind. Buy her a drink, the casual wave from across the room. Damn, she’s not drinking. Wonder who she’s here with. Looks like the gods left him no choice, but to stroll up there, cold turkey and say something. Alright here goes, he thought as he polished off his whiskey. He made that long walk up the bar. Arm on the countertop as close to hers as he dare to get. She brushed her hair to one side and turn towards him eager to put a face to the hand that lay down next to hers. She was exquisite her black leather pants, innocent brown eyes and he could think of nothing to say except, “nice pants”.