It was gusty in Metropolis, spring winds whistled between tall buildings, bringing fine rain insinuating into every crevice.
Miss Lois Lane, ace reporter of The Daily Planet was soaked through, her umbrella blown inside out three blocks away.
At the revolving door, she bumped into someone trying to enter at the same time and went flying.
"Hey, you fucking big galoot —" Lois started, swinging her handbag to strike the stranger, before recognising the man who gently held her arm, preventing her falling.
"Oh, hi Clark."
The handbag unfortunately caught the man on the head and dislodged his soaking wet oversized eyeglasses and, just for a moment, Lois caught a glimpse of Clark's eyes.
'They're baby blues!' Lois thought, 'just like... Nah! The very thought!"
"Oh, gee whizz, Miss Lane, didn't see you through wet glasses," Clark Kent stuttered as usual. "You know, a 'big galoot' is an old British Royal Navy term for clumsy sailor or landlub—"
"Oh, Clark, you know so much shit, you're like a walking encyclopaedia. We're at work, call me Lois." Lois affectionately squeezed Clark's arm, like a pet, it felt solid. "Hey, Clark, you been working out?"
"Gosh, darn, Miss Lane, er Lois, but yeah," Clark replied sheepishly, waving her through the revolving door. He followed but as soon as Lois exited, Clark stumbled and ended up going around a second time, continuing speaking as if nothing had happened, "I bench pressed weights at the Daily Planet gym, Lois, but the bar pressed on my chest an' I couldn't breathe, but a couple of the secretaries in their tight leotards rescued me."
Lois had never heard Clark talk about girls before and had a sudden jealous twinge. 'I'm not attracted to Clark, but he's always my date whenever I need one. Still....'
"Clark, I've come to a decision," Lois started, "Hey, your glasses are dry, how the—"
"Golly, Lois, don'cha know that revolving doors are air locks that prevent the 'chimney effect' of tall buildings which naturally suck—"
Lois pushed him backwards into the open elevator.
