There’s a girl at my office that makes me want to be superman.

Amazing.  Beautiful, kind, smile that makes me soften up.  She has this walk… moves like a cool brook; purposeful, but economic in the direction.

It’s sad, you know?  This big lug nursing a hangover that could knock a rhino, rubbing the scar under my beard from that time a Marine took a cheap shot at me, two seconds away from yelling at the top of my lungs from office madness and being calmed down at the sight of this woman.  I find myself removed from reality and being pulled into the wake of serenity.

I’m a beast that stumbles through life with a bottle of Jack, and sweaty erection and clenched, bloody fists.  She’s something so alien to what I am I can hardly describe her. 

To tell you the truth, she just makes me happy knowing that men will always try to be something better than themselves around women.