I can’t tell you the exact moment of redemption, but I can say that the energy between them got a boost in the second or two after he dropped what can only be charitably described as a couched insult.

“Well at least you’re still in your heels. Most girls like you are trading in for flats at this hour.”

Her head snapped back. She was at full attention. Gone was the exasperated sideways glance for a rescuer, replaced by flushed indignation that is the telltale mark of blood pipelined directly between the hamster and the vagina. A few hollow protests to the contrary notwithstanding, she fell quickly into his orbit and they were off to the races. He had pricked her safe and secure but ultimately flimsy bitch bubble, and she could not be happier for it.