Continued from yesterday...
Ever since the car accident, I can’t ease under those heavy lids. But I could sure make short work of a plastic bag.
He got rid of the garbage, slammed the lid shut, and went back inside the diner.
Oh, well. I’ll find somebody else.
“You poor fella,” she said. “You hungry? I just might have something in the icebox for a good-looking guy like you. Want to come to my house?”
I could tell by the tone of her voice, she’d made the offer before. As for me, I’ve accepted before.
Sometimes I start out on the couch, but after a while, I’m making myself at home in the lady’s bed. And sometimes, if I’m lucky, I get more out of it than just a back rub.
I got my dark, good looks from my old man. The rest of the brood took after Mom, kinda puny with a standoffish attitude. I heard tell Mom had a reputation for sleepin’ around. I guess you could say the same for Pop. But he had class. Breeding, some said. He taught me the ropes, but when he split, I didn’t have any good reason for staying around.
Lucky for me, the ladies like me. I fancy them myself. They usually treat me good, and I try to repay the kindness, while I’m around. I clean up after myself and don’t snore. But when they start thinking they can tie me down, they got another thing comin’. I’m Splits Ville.