She smiled back.The band began playing their next number. It was a slow tune. I approached her, introduced myself, and asked, "Would you like to dance?"She looked up and, with surprise in her voice, replied, "Me? You mean me?" Yes, you! Is there something wrong with asking you to dance?" I replied, as I held out my hand.She hesitated then replied, "Oh no! A dance will be fun." With a broad grin spreading across her face, she practically jumped to her feet, took my arm, and rushed to the dance floor. She dragged me with her.As we took each other into our arms and began dancing, she told me her name was Susan, but everyone called her Sue. Sue then asked, "Why did you want to dance with me, instead of one of the many other girls here?"I have found over the years that an honest answer is so much easier to remember. I told her why I had chosen her to dance with. "You looked lonely, and I prefer bigger girls."Sue asked, "Why?"I asked her, "Do you want an honest answer?" The truth is always. Yet ahead it still looked downhill. An optical illusion. I pushed my bike another half mile before I reached the next summit.A mailman turned off a side road and stopped at a mailbox ahead of me. I passed him. He pulled away and passed me, then pulled in a hundred yards ahead at the next box. I passed him. One minute later he passed me. I waved when I passed him again. He pulled alongside me a couple minutes later and started talking to me. Back then, the guys just used a regular car and he rode in the passenger seat while steering with his left hand.“Been biking far?”“About a thousand miles when my odometer flew off a few miles ago,” I said.“Where you headed?”“The ocean.”“Here. This might help.” He handed me a five-dollar bill.“Thank you! It’s been a hard day.”“I know where I’m going to sleep tonight.” He sped up past me and turned onto another side road. I really needed that touch of humanity.I didn’t know where I’d sleep that night. I labored to the top of another hill and saw a.
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