After a quick once-over in the rear-view mirror and a deep, meditative breath, she placed her cover smartly upon her head and emerged from her vehicle. Stopping for a moment to admire the rosy hues of the rising sun and shivering slightly from the brisk morning chill, Peters contentedly sighed at what promised to be a prototypically beautiful San Diego day.
Firmly grasping her grande, half-caff, vanilla-soy latte in her left hand, Peters began the momentous trek to the pier one hundred yards away. Head on a swivel, Peters’ gaze was suddenly and involuntarily riveted by an aquaflage silhouette. Her eyes grew wide with anticipation at the sailor she beheld. A Third Class Petty Officer…? No! A Second! she silently squealed. After calculating his target angle and scrutinizing his eyes for any betrayal of acknowledgement, she felt an electric chill run up her spine and her right hand instinctively sharpen into a fearsome knife. He sees me! This is the moment I’ve been waiting for!
At 0617, Pacific Standard Time, Ensign Jamie Peters lost her innocence.
