Angelina was the wife of the owner of the bakery near where I lived. She looked middle aged, with children almost certainly in high school. Her body build was heavy, you know, really fat. Even though she liked to wear voluminous loose clothes, you could still detect rolls of fat all over her. The arms were thick and wide, with the upper arm flattening itself against the sides. But she possessed large brown eyes in a face that showed she must have been a great beauty when she was younger. When she spoke, her voice was a mixture of the richness of honey and the roughness of sandpaper: a husky voice. You can see it was not probable or likely that she could hold any appeal for a guy like me who prides himself in his youthful looks.
Yet when I found her (or rather she found me, I cannot rightly tell now) at the bank as we queued we had only started speaking because there were just two tellers at the counters yet the queue was quite long. Then on one of the screens the breaking news of a suicide bomber in Jerusalem had caused further comment. This kept us going so that we hardly noticed a third cashier coming to take up position. Soon I was right at the front of the queue and she just behind me. In fact two cashiers became free and so we each went to one, finishing at about the same time.
I hope you are not in a big hurry, she asked me.
No I have a few minutes before I need to get back to the office."
Let us have a quick lunch. I thought she enjoyed the time away from the bakery and wanted to capitalise on every moment. She took me to lunch at a nice restaurant nearby. She was full of talk about the current political situation, what with elections drawing nearer and nearer. I found that although she supported the opposition candidate, her views were not too different from mine on development issues. We talked amicably as we ate quickly.
When we were done, she asked me if she could drop me at the office, since her husband was at the bakery and it was not yet busy.