Twenty-nine year old Nikki Harris eased off the brake pedal and then abruptly smashed it with her high heeled shoe. She switched her cell phone from one ear to the other and complained, "This downtown traffic is murder! It drives me nuts. I swear in five years, I'm moving to the country. Another dog, maybe another cat."
"What if your future perfect husband doesn't like pets?" her friend Carol asked on the other end of the phone line.
"Non-negotiable!" Nikki exclaimed in horror at the mere thought of reality intruding upon her well-planned fantasy. "Anyway, that guy I talked to online last night is supposed to call this afternoon."
"For your sake, I hope his name is Jean-Paul. It's a scientific fact that guys named Jean-Paul adore pets!"
"Asshole!" Nikki screamed.
"Excuse me?" C
