While young Ryan was showing off his break dancing moves, Blondie and Elliott lay together under the shade of a nearby tree both. They already looked as if they were old friends. Their faces were relaxed, noses in the air, their bodies sprawled out on the park's grass. No one would have ever guessed that both dogs were rescued from certain death.
“Where’re you from,” Ryan asked turning his attention to me with that incredible smile. We chatted for a while, mostly about our dogs. I didn't think too much about it since he was nine years younger than me, not even old enough to drink yet. Lots of men my age dated younger women but I just didn't think I could go there.
“It was nice meeting you and thanks for the dance,” I said as I grabbed Blondie’s pink bling collar. "We've got to go now."
“Hey, uh, do you want to go out sometime? I mean, I just moved here and I don’t know that many people,” he stammered. He was so adorable I couldn't help by feel flattered that he asked me out. But we had nothing in common except for dogs. I didn't know anything about break dancing, Washington DC or acting. I figured it was best to remain untangled with this young hunk, even though I found him intensely attractive.