“So, the guy in the story approaches the girl while she is picking out melons. He holds up a melon and asks her how you can tell if a melon is fresh...while staring down at her breasts. Oh, like that would ever work.” She adds doubtfully. Linda now has her arms wrapped around my neck and is running the fingers of one hand through my hair. I can feel her breasts press into my upper back. “Hey you’re here.” I remind her, “And it works for the guy in the story. They end up back at his place I might. Karen lived a half mile away, she was in the same boat financially as he was, she worked for commissions down at the furniture and appliance store. Karen regularly seemed to be around somewhere, but he never really paid much attention to her. She always wore those dumpy dresses, those thick glasses. She had heavy eyebrows and a cute round face, but the clothes she wore couldn’t hide the 20 extra pounds on her. Patrick would go out and ride his bike in the evenings, most of the time she would be. More

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