My girlfriend, Shauna, and I met on the freeway.My girlfriend, Shauna, and I met on the freeway. I was laying under my Porsche 914, trying to fix a balky shift lever, thinking of creative tortures for the German S.O.B.s that designed it, when I heard another car sputtering in behind me. I'd just about fininshed, and as I slid out from under the car, hands and forearms greasy and grimy, I saw another 914 parked behind me. Emerging from the driver's seat, Shauna walked towards me. Even the concern and frustration on her face couldn't mar her looks. About 5'5", 120 pounds, a terrific figure shaped by skin-tight jeans, a green blouse, blue eyes, and orange-red hair that cascaded down from her shoulders, ending just above her firm breasts. Her car had died and she was able to nurse it behind mine and could-you- take-a-look-PLEASE? Smiling, I looked. I looked mostly a her, but I did manage to find the problem. After removing some parts and repairing the corroded connectors, I started reassembly. At one point, I was frantically looking about for one of those "special" bolts car makers are so fond of, and couldn't find it. Shauna bent down, and picked something up, asking me "is this what you're looking for?" Saved by my Irish luck again, I told her yes, that was the part, and as I walked around the car, taking it from her hand, I leaned over and gave her a quick, light kiss on the lips, thanking her for saving my sanity. I glanced back as I wound the bolt into place, and Shauna was staring wide-eyed at me. "All fixed." I said, "Give her a try and lets see if she runs." She started the Porsche and it ran, but still needed a tune up. We talked for a bit and I gave her my phone number, asking her to come by Saturday and we'd get her car in shape. Saturday, we fixed her car and ended up having dinner together. Several nights later, as we left a movie and were sitting in traffic, Shauna holding my hand, leaned over and breathed into my ear; "I |