About 30 years ago, I worked with a guy who liked to leave Polaroids of his girlfriend (later wife) around for everyone to find. He'd usually show us the photos first, then he'd "forget" them on a table, or place them in a wastepaper basket. The photos got progressively harder (and weirder) as time went on. She was extremely good looking. A slim dark haired Italian, with long legs and glass-cutter nipples. She was a fantastic cook, too. I don't know what she saw in this guy. He was a bit of a jerk.
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