Dale asked to stop by the Foodway for a box of pontoons. I wondered why she grabbed a shopping cart until I watched her do 50 bucks worth of grocery shopping in 90 seconds. At the counter, her best dangerous smiled prompted me to drag out a C-note and pay the bill. As if I had never existed, the female cashier hands Dale the change and says, “Thank you”. To Dale not to me; I had already become invisible. The clutch purse maw was already open. “We’ll just put this in here”, says Mistress Dale, and at the closing click I knew that’s where it was gonna stay. All eyes (chicks included) were on her too-tight, too-short skirt and her 4 and 9/16-inch (measured ‘em) sparkly high heels as I followed her like any puppy dog out to the car. Sometimes ya gotta get off your wallet and just enjoy the view.
P.S.: I hope Dale never accepts the demotion to “equality”. Do-dah.

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