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June 7, 2005

Stacy: Inconvenienced

"In case you're wondering, I don't spend the entire workday inside my tailor shop."

I glance at the wizened little man behind the counter as I rummage for my wallet. I'm just here for my damned skirt, I don't want to bond, fer crissakes.

"I also have a nice side business," he continues, undeterred.

He peers at me through bottle-thick glasses. "Don't you want to know what else I do?" he creaks.

I hurriedly slap down too much money, grab my skirt and bolt out the door, glad to be away from the smell of blood and the irritating screaming.

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