”“OK, Mr. Simons, We have a deal.” Looking the boy up and down. “In the meanwhile, we need to get you some new clothes. I can’t have my people looking ragtag and worked out. Let’s head out to the dry good store and get you some new clothes.”“That might not be a good idea, Boss. Last time I was in the dry goods, the skinflint that runs the place took a switch to me. Told me never to come back.”“And why did he do that?”“Well, I went in to get breakfast. He was busy with one of the hoity-toity ladies. So, I put my nickel on the counter and then started looking for a decent apple in the barrel. You know, the good ones are lower down.”“Next thing I know, this lady whispers about why Albert should he let tramps and rag-a-muffins into his shop. He pops his cork and starts yelling at me to get out, calling me a thief, and then he pulled out this willow switch and started swinging. Well, I got the hell out of there as quick as I could. Later, he called me back and told me I had to wait outside. She carried her bowl over to the bar and sat down to watch some TV. Scanning through the TiVo-ed selections from the night before, she found an old episode of ‘Buffy’ and settled in. She was half-way through her health-conscious Raisin Bran, when the doorbell rang. Without thinking, she went to the door, still dressed in her pajamas—a medium sized pink t-shirt advertising an old YMCA camp and a pair of pink boxer shorts. Assuming that the late-morning visitor was either the UPS man or a neighbor, she was shocked to receive Travis, with whom she had shared an unfulfilling fling the summer before. She mumbled hello and opened the door to invite him in just as she realized her state of dress. Her skin flushed fuchsia and she stuttered ‘I’ll be right back’ before scampering upstairs to find appropriate clothing, leaving him in the entryway without allowing him to speak a word. I thought he was gone, she mumbled to herself as she entered her room. He shouldn’t be here. But I can pretend.
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