She pressed the elevator button. Waiting, waiting, sounds of tapping three inch, heels filled the long empty hallway. As she stepped in the glossy silver box, she noticed a penny on the ground. Flipped on its lucky side, she smiled to herself and pushed the lobby button. More waiting, the 22nd floor, then the 21st, 20th, 19th…bing. The elevator stopped and in walked a tall, dark and handsome man in a suit. He nodded politely at her, noticing the two melon size friends she had under her hot pink, skin tight dress. Arriving at the lobby the man and woman walked one in front of the other, he opened the glass door for her and they went on their separate ways. She made her way through the busy streets, walking in a perfectly straight line. The men in hard hats and orange vests stare in amazement at her beauty. In foolish jealously, the woman glare at the men they’re with for checking her out as she walks by. As if she is the most powerful woman in the world she flips her freshly curled blonde hair, keeping her nose up and butt out. She hears a whistle then a honk. Sometimes even an “ow ow.” But on she walks. Not stopping for anyone or anything. Ignoring all shouts and screams. A grungy old man in a beanie and ripped up jeans offers her a hot dog that he insists it New York’s best. She rejects it kindly but still doesn’t slow or stop her pace of walking. Out of the corner of her eye she sees it. What she’s been looking for all this time without realizing it. Jimmy Cho, black, strappy, 5 inch heels. She just fell in love.