.” She stopped, took a breath, and finished in a firm voice, “batteries.”“I see,” he said, blinking several times. “They’re over there. ...hat kind do you need?”It was probably a mixture of all of her emotions, including a little hysteria, that resulted in her catharsis taking the form of laughter. It wasn’t just a chuckle as her mind flashed back to her earlier fantasy in which Bob had asked the same question. It was a helpless belly laugh that turned into chronic guffaws that caused her to. While he still had trouble catching the ball, Tim made sure to get in front of the ball not letting it get past him. He may not catch the ball, but he did knock it down preventing runners from getting extra bases. Some of his teammates still played ”ole ball’. You know, they would stand to the side, wave their glove at the ball as it went by and yell ”Ole!’ It was in our ninth game that it happened. Tim was at the plate. Their pitcher, a right hander, wound up and threw a belt high fast-ball. And I did.Over the next two weeks my boss became like my boyfriend. He would open doors for me. He would ask me nicely to do things. He drove me home to my foster parent’s house after work and picked me up there a few times. He didn’t have to do any of these things because I was technically an employee, in more than one way.First and foremost I served soft serve ice cream at an ice cream parlor where he was the boss and son of the owner. Secondly I was a . . . for lack of a better word, a. " They do, but they love you too, most of they know me, but you're new,fresh and beautiful, that's the way it is with these guys."Then the music started, and the light came down a bit to Michelle'srelief. "I love dimmer switches" she thought. She had tried dancing athome in Jane's clothes, and was soon strutting her stuff to the mix ofdance and rock. All of a sudden, the mood changed, and the slow songssignalled couples pairing off and bodies beginning to intertwine on theliving floor.Michelle.