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She looked at me, turned slightly and studied the calendar hanging on the refrigerator door, looked back into my eyes.
Thank you," Darlene frowned as she hung up the phone.
Her second expedition of seduction ended in bewildered frustration. I usually have to beat men off with a stick," shaking her head in disgust, she demolished another White Russian. Darlene's rent check went south, along with about 25 or 30 personal checks and ATM transactions; each bad check racked up a bank charge, -30 in returned check merchant fees, and her account soon was bleeding red ink by several thousand dollars.
"Maybe you should offer to beat them off with a stick, you know, fifty shades of kinky? The certified letter ordering our eviction was the last straw.
Through the process of elimination, we had become drinking buddies at our local tavern. More often than not, we were the last people still standing when the barkeep bellowed out, "Last call for alcohol! The tavern, built in the 1890s, featured a Walnut and Mahogany bar with an odd little ' L' shaped hook at the far corner of the saloon.
The bar and a back wall of brick formed a naturally cozy little alcove large enough to accommodate three bar stools. Darlene's field of viable targets was limited unless she lowered her standards or went in for a threesome.