Torn.
So, As I walked out of the U-Bahn station at Konigsallee, I noticed this girl walking in front of me. She seemed well dressed from behind. Leather jacket. A hand bag and a tote. Denim shirt. Black jeans. And then I noticed it. Maybe she's coming back from a sleepover at her friend's house or her boyfriend's. Explains the tote. Her jeans were torn right at the butt-crack. She kept walking ahead of me. It was the same route so I followed trying not to look at that spot on the jeans. Okay I did sneak in a look or two. But only to be sure that it the jeans was torn. I wasn't looking, you know. She kept walking ahead and then it occurred to me. I wasn't sure, but I had a very strong feeling that what i was thinking was the case. She was walking ahead of me. She took the turn I expected her to take. And entered the building I expected her to enter. I caught up with her in the lift. Should I tell her? Nah, none of my business. She turned and said, &#