It was midsummer of 1989, probably the hottest and muggiest day of the year. That Friday afternoon most everyone in the office had taken off from work after lunch to try to beat the weekend rush-hour traffic. The air conditioners in the building, as always, were doing a less than satisfactory job. With the omnipresent heat, the humidity, the coming of the weekend and the arrival of the latest news, it was obvious that Roberta Wheeler, commonly known as ’Bobbi the mouth’ was extremely anxious to get home and out of the heat to find out the facts of the latest town gossip. Unfortunately, her carpool partner was working late on a claims report that was two days overdue.* * * *For only a fleeting instant, I had thought of my safety when boarding the elevator on that fateful afternoon. With all good reason, I do respect the innate drive for the preservation of life; however, I have to admit, when standing next to that angelic beauty, my trepidation was fundamentally kept at bay. I remember wishing I could pause time just long enough to spend a few more minutes talking and sneaking long looks at her while taking in her sweet scent. I have to admit, I am not one of those suave kind of guys who have no difficulty identifying every perfume that wafts it’s way passed, but I can definitely guarantee that whatever she was wearing, I had never experienced such an entrancing aphrodisiac in my twenty-six years of life, and it would prove to be a passage I would never forget.