After primping myself--you know, a woman really does have to use all her charms to catch her man--I walked into town late yesterday afternoon to see Ray. All morning, I readied myself for the encounter. I imagined what I would say to him (and practiced repeatedly in front of the bathroom mirror). I even worked up enough confidence to invite him to meet me for a drink after work. But when I got to the store, alas, he was not there. Vinod, behind the counter, asked if he could help me. Playing it cool (and pretending to be a legitimate customer), I fumbled for an answer.
"I'll take one of those," I said, pointing to things hanging behind him on the wall.
"Vich country?"
That one," I hastily replied, still pointing--although my eyes were too glazed with tears to even see what I was pointing at.
He gave me Guatemala. What the fuck. I can now call Guatemala anytime day or night for ten hours. Don't even have to enter a pin number. Christ.
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4 comments:
You are what you eat. so you should not fool around with a man like big dick...your a delores...if you date me and you are what you eat...your name would be mine.
Oooooo...that's hot...You are what you eat...I guess your name is appropriate then, eh?
No, Delores, that is my christian name, given to me by my mother. She was also big, she went by the name Big Pussy Johnson. My father left us early on, he was Big Crank Johnson. One day he fell in and we never saw him again.
Pussy and Crank Johnson from Middlesex County???
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