Smack Downed
(on vanity)
I went around in a woman's coat one winter. A leather number...Hourglass-shaped, fur collar and a hanging leather strap, or "belt". I didn't care. It kept me warm. Plus, it was in decent shape...It didn't have a hole in it, the buttons were all on...
It's owner (before me) used to say it fit her like a glove.
So I'm wearing this ridiculous wrap one winter--and a suede beret, which I found in a hardware store--and this diner guy intimates I'm a fruit.
"You're a fruit," he intimates.
No, admittedly, he was a bit more subtle. Stares for a minute before taking my order; double-takes toward the counter girl, who's smacking gum and chuckling to herself...looks back at me, and wisecracks, "He likes girls!"
...The counter girl--bodacious, lust, full-bodily--smacks, "I don't think so!"
