”“One moment, please.”After a short span of music designed to bore you to death, the phone picked up.“Operations, Max Burke.”“Max, this is...Dave Findley at Findley Processing. You have a Helen Gester scheduled, and I was wondering if you would mind a re-assignment?”“Dave, I would like to tell you we don’t have a problem but we need to hang on to all we can with the cost of this cleanup. Who is the sow?”Sow? Dave thought. This was not how to refer to Helen. She was one of the nicest people. Can you just throw away the rest? I don’t really want to deal with them, you know?”. Clara shrugged, “Sure. You can come back tomorrow around one for your money though. Just fill this out.”The man, who wrote his name down as Paul, finished filling out the form. He wandered around the store for a while and bought a couple things before leaving. The rest of the day passed uneventfully and eventually Clara locked the door and turned the sign to closed. She grabbed the box from behind the counter. By now I was getting adventurous and brought another bra but this time I brought some knickers, you guessed it they were black. I wasn't wearing anything else feminine... yet.I found myself working in a city that was hosting an ideal home exhibition; you know the type of thing... knives that never need sharpening, tape that invisibly mended holes the size of a bus and gadgets that no home could function without. And there tucked away in a corner was a wig stall. Well I passed that stall from. This is about to change. The age difference between us is only 18 years, earlier in our lives that was a big difference especially when I was 18 and she hadn't been born yet, but now not so much, I arrive and before saying hello I say "you are 35 and I am 53.. we both are and have been sexually attracted to each other and there has been a mutual feeling, unsaid, yet one that has been building for a long time between and among us", before she stops me to say she has to use the restroom and to.
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