It wasn’t even a tossup. The previous photos couldn’t even compete. Nothing could be more disgusting than the last photo of the evening. It was a ...ifferent girl this time. She was young, obviously a teenager. She was a very pretty little blonde, probably no more than sixteen. I couldn’t be certain, but I thought I saw her posing in some of the earlier photographs with large numbers of black men.As was the case in most of the previous photographs there were tears streaming down her cheeks. She. I cringed inwardly at the added insult of those names, taken together.It looked like it was going to be a long, long evening, with us waitingon them hand and foot. But would there be more? Please, no, I hopedsilently.But I wasn't that lucky. Not me or my new sister-in-shame. After Tyrawent and got two glasses of red wine for herself and Barb, and they wereseated once more, Barb gave myself and her loser-husband a smirkingsmile.She said, "You pair are really two of a kind. I'll bet you'd. But at that moment my mind didn’t make any sense and what I thought was nonsense. But I need to make sure.I shift and he loosens his hold and looks down at me and opens his mouth to speak but before he does I ask him my question.“What are you?”“Errr… you mean who am I? Sorry. I didn’t introduce myself. I am Alexander Parker.”“And?” I ask softly.“And I am 25. Originally from Boston. And I work in an automobile company.”I look uncomfortably not finding the answer I need. So I just nod and look. She called him. He went into the living room. He asked her what was wrong. Shesaid, "I got the flu this afternoon and had to come home. I feelawful, I feel tired and weak. Where did you get those clothes? Theyaren't what you wore to work this morning. What happened? Did youfind your list?" He thought about the questions and chose to answer the lastquestion first. He said, "I found the list and have already donethe kitchen and the table and chairs. You didn't have the kitchenfloor on it but I.