She kept her buttoned coat on the whole time she was there reading

During the late nineties I would sometimes go to a coffee shop to study. A coffee shop on a big college campus is just crawling with great-looking girls. One in particular stands out in my memory, though. 

I was sitting at a table reading, when this pretty girl in her twenties came in. She was likely a graduate student. She was slender with short auburn hair and wore a black leather coat that fell just above her knees. Her coat was only partially buttoned, and her crisp white shirt spilled out around the notched coat collar. A leather backpack pulled her coat into shiny folds. Taking off her backpack produced a cacophony of squeaking as it rubbed against her coat. Lucky for me,

she chose to sit in the booth right next to my table. She sat down without taking off her leather coat. The musical creaking of her leather coat was loud as she shifted her shapely, leather-sheathed bottom on the vinyl upholstery of her seat. She kept her buttoned coat on the whole time she was there reading. The black leather gleamed, and creaked with every movement she made. The buttons on the cuffs of her coat clicked on the table when she would turn a page. I didn't get much more studying done that night. I was too distracted.