Let your imagination fly free. That's where innovation begins!
She was stationed in an booth at Brandon's Ag Expo, handing out brochures, her lush blonde hair falling forwards as she bent over to replenish the Manitoba Celeriac Growers Association calling cards.
"Could I have one of those cards?" he asked.
Her lips looked so soft, he wanted to kiss them.
"Of course you can. Would you be interested in growing celeriac? " she asked, glimpsing at his University Ag jacket . "I'm Jennifer Whitcomb."
He smiled, nodding, even though he had no idea what celeriac was. As he reached for the card, he was embarrassed at his grubby fingernails, a bit greasy looking from swiping the truck's steel oil gauge between his two fingers. Worse, he'd also wiped his dripping nose.
She didn't notice the bit of oil on his nose. His infectious smile was all she could see in the Keystone Center.
"I've gotta head home right away, but could I call you at this number to get more info?" he asked, bending over, pointing to her number on the card. "I'm Jeff Watchman".
"That's me! Call anytime, Jeff." She placed her finger on the same spot where he was pointing The confirmation took a long ten seconds, her index finger rested lightly on his pointing finger.
He felt her warmth."Thanks. I'll call Friday night." He left.
Jeff had packed his lower lip with Copenhagen just as he'd arrived at Expo, so as soon as he got into his half-ton, he checked in the mirror to see if he had any snoose on his teeth. He didn't.
Relieved, he opened his truck window and threw out his snooze box, grinning-wide, and began planning for the weekend.
Pars.
She was stationed in an booth at Brandon's Ag Expo, handing out brochures, her lush blonde hair falling forwards as she bent over to replenish the Manitoba Celeriac Growers Association calling cards.
"Could I have one of those cards?" he asked.
Her lips looked so soft, he wanted to kiss them.
"Of course you can. Would you be interested in growing celeriac? " she asked, glimpsing at his University Ag jacket . "I'm Jennifer Whitcomb."
He smiled, nodding, even though he had no idea what celeriac was. As he reached for the card, he was embarrassed at his grubby fingernails, a bit greasy looking from swiping the truck's steel oil gauge between his two fingers. Worse, he'd also wiped his dripping nose.
She didn't notice the bit of oil on his nose. His infectious smile was all she could see in the Keystone Center.
"I've gotta head home right away, but could I call you at this number to get more info?" he asked, bending over, pointing to her number on the card. "I'm Jeff Watchman".
"That's me! Call anytime, Jeff." She placed her finger on the same spot where he was pointing The confirmation took a long ten seconds, her index finger rested lightly on his pointing finger.
He felt her warmth."Thanks. I'll call Friday night." He left.
Jeff had packed his lower lip with Copenhagen just as he'd arrived at Expo, so as soon as he got into his half-ton, he checked in the mirror to see if he had any snoose on his teeth. He didn't.
Relieved, he opened his truck window and threw out his snooze box, grinning-wide, and began planning for the weekend.
Pars.
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