ThatDude In The City: God Loves The Sexy Nurse

Its officially November. Time to put away the tank tops, the capris, and [tear] the boat shoes. Sure, for the last month or so its been too cold to wear any of our beloved summer attire, but until now the YW fam has hoped a child like hope that before fall carries out its sentence on summer, we might just get one last chance to throw on our boat shoes and take in the the skin deep beauty that summer brings to our fair city's fairer sex.

With the exception of a day here and a day there, that longed for renaissance of warmth has evaded us like universal health care. Until, that is, the universe checked its calender and, circling the day of October the 31st, remembered that God Loves The Sexy Nurse. As the sun went down on October, and the trick or treaters were coming down from their sugar highs, the temperature rose to a balmy 68 degrees, ensuring that the city, from the streets, to the bars, to the thump thump clubs, would be flooded with women incognito, bedecked in professional garb...from the oldest profession.

And yes, it rained on the Halloween parade up 6th avenue. But this was no ordinary rain. Imbued with the heat of the evening, these drops melted away the insecurities that our Halloween masks couldn't mask, flooding the city with a Dionysian rumpus that would make even the Wildest Thing do a double take. Walking in the parade, wine in a can in hand, I was overtaken by an old man in a clown costume pedaling a pedicab. But, like the evening's rain, this was no ordinary pedi cab. Oh no. This pedicab was pulling a platform with a stripper pole. Down one city block, a bevy of sexy professionals, drunk with the heat of the evening, took to the stage and let the night in; communing with the God who made it warm and made it rain, and, who Im now sure, loves the sexy nurse.

author's note: "God," as referred to above, represents some non-identifiable thing greater than myself. You may call it what you will.