“Just trying to get some change for the parking meter,” I explained to the Greyhound ticket agent.
The middle-aged woman raised an eyebrow and looked me up and down. If the expression on her face was any indication, apparently I was quite the distasteful sight to behold. Oh, well. She, on the other hand, cut a striking, if somewhat intimidating, figure. I don’t know if it was the too-snug company-issued pantsuit or the rust-tinged beehive hairdo with the Bic pen pointing out the side like the needle on a compass, but the whole package kind of turned me on.... Read more
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hackie