So, there I was working, paying the rent, as they say, when a rather robust, muscular woman popped out of a stall in the ladies room.
As I stood combing my hair, there was something unusual about her I couldn’t put my finger on, until she lifted her Chanel skirt, concealing more in her thong than your average bikini wax.
After arranging things like a seasoned decorator, she said, “Am I straight?”
I don’t know…are you? No I didn’t say that. Even then, Connecticut made a cameo.
“I think so,” I said, waiting for John Waters to come in and say…CUT.
She demurely rolled down her skirt, took a quick look in the mirror before sweeping out like Bette Davis, if Bette had calves the size of coconuts, that is.
I thought of this odd encounter, as I made out my rent check for March.
all in a day’s work Susannah, all in a day’s work.