Each single has “Win Whim” written along the top border in red ink. She instructs me to go to Lincoln Downs the next day to bet a horse named Best Whim. Renee gives me fifty one-dollar bills easy as if I’m a bank teller.
The exercise rider I meet while nursing a beer at Stacey’s Lounge sure is strange. Her bed frame’s do-it-yourself copper, better conductor than brass. If lightning ever strikes, he’s in trouble. Outside, I tell him to meet her on a clear night. Jack offers to have lunch delivered but we’re running late. Barb at A-1 will wear none just jiggle her way into at least his heart. Jill at Functional Plumbing said she’d sport her Victoria’s Secret pushup bra. I called earlier in the week to announce I was bringing a gift hunk. I run a reset program then fib to Jack, tell him I wrote a quickie that will monitor the product file.įran and Bill return holding hands. There’s a sign taped to the top of her monitor, “Sexual Harassment is a Benefit Here.” To my left is a silver-framed, eight-by-ten, black and white photo, a fellow exiting a shower, his manhood caught in the door. I imagine Fran and her biker pals moonlighting but keep my trap shut. He bends over backward for both employees and customers. Jack can’t believe anyone would steal from him. Someone is leaving a door open and copper tubing is walking out. After Jack runs out of breath, I pretend to focus on the “problem.” There is none. She won’t sign the papers for her daughter to quit school and join the Marines, tantrums, and battles galore. He’s dating a divorcee he met at a support group who has moved to the Poconos. His wife dumped him and pulled visitation rights. He suffers from some rare disease he never names. Sit down, take a look, something’s wrong with the inventory committed tracking.” I fall into a squeaky chair at Fran’s desk but don’t get to work until Jack lists his troubles I’ve heard before.
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She’s full of shit about the litters, just wants to make me look bad. He lets go quickly, clenches his fists and says, “I’d get rid of both of them in a skinny minute if they weren’t so good at what they do. It’s up to me to reward her with gourmet meals.” Molly licks her chops.įran takes Bill out to the warehouse to check on some connectivity issues. “And his highness provides store brand food for her, some past sell date. “She’s brought me rats.” Molly beams proudly. Fran reaches down into a wastebasket, pulls out a headless mouse. “Have you any idea how hard it is to find homes for two litters of six?” Then raising her voice to make sure the owner, Jack, hears, she says, “Numb-nuts should pay to have her fixed.” Molly winces. I see a comic strip balloon reading, “Look who’s talking.” Fran continues snubbing me. Fran introduces Molly and adds, “She’s named after a Dublin fishmonger, but she’s nothing but a shameless whore.” Molly swivels here head and fixes Fran in her sights. She poses like a sphinx, eyes Bill admiringly.
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Her face would empty a fleet of container ships fully loaded with feline product in minutes with her TV endorsement. As she reloads her ammo, a beautiful calico cat jumps up on the counter. Son of a bitch, Bill acts as if it’s an everyday occurrence. She grabs him ten-feet after we enter, whips out a tit to show him the stitched wound from a Harley accident, so she says. I’m hoping Fran the bawdy bookkeeper will do something to put a blush on his face. The Weavers introduced many folk revival standards to new audiences.I have a couple of things he can do, but Bill the new hardware tech is along mostly to meet the clients. Because of this, some folk song fans criticized them for watering down their beliefs and commercializing their singing style.Įncouraging sing-alongs in their concerts, sometimes Seeger would shout out the lyrics in advance of each line. The Weavers first big hit was in 1950 with Lead Belly‘s “ Goodnight, Irene“, backed with the 1941 song “ Tzena, Tzena, Tzena“, which also became a best-seller.ĭuring the Great Red Scare of the early 1950s, their manager advised the group not to sing their most explicitly political songs and to avoid performing at “progressive” venues and events. The Weavers were formed in 1948 by Ronnie Gilbert, Lee Hays, Fred Hellerman, and Pete Seeger. The group took its name from Die Weber a play written by Gerhart Hauptmann in 1892 that depicted the uprising of the Silesian weavers in 1844. Their style inspired the commercial folk music boom that followed them in the 1950s and 1960s. The Weavers were an American folk quartet from Greenwich Village in New York City who sang traditional folk songs from around the world, as well as blues, gospel music, children’s songs, labor songs, and American ballads.