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He stops and turns to me. “Do you think people would stare if I threw you over my shoulder? Because I really want to do that. Then I can ogle your ass and just run.” The look in his eye is a little manic. For a second, I think he’s going to do it. Then he spies the heavily armed security officer a few feet away. “Excuse me, sir?” he says, and the guard looks at him. “Would it be acceptable to carry my girlfriend like a sack of potatoes in order to get out of here quicker and make sweet love to her?” The guard’s mouth moves, but he resists smiling. “No, sir, that would not be acceptable.” “Piggyback?” “Nope.” “Put her on a trolley?” “No.” “You’re no fun.” “So my wife keeps telling me.
