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Goodies

Who struts down an uneven street in stiletto heels, during her lunch break, carrying a bag of fresh kettle corn, hot chocolate, and today's paper to a man who'd just informed her that he hasn't showered in three days?  Hmm. If you guessed me, then you're wrong. 

Try Diana. "He's starting to piss me off," she shouted over the phone this afternoon. 

"Okay, forget your emotions, you had kettle corn and hot chocolate?" I asked.

"What's with French men? They think women are at their fucking disposal."

"What's wrong with bringing your man some goodies?" 

"Nothing! But If I bring him goodies, he better give me some fucking goodies, too."

"And that would be?" 

 A long silence... 

"A shopping spree at Nordstrom or at least good head. Definitely not his stinky ass lying in a hotel room, speaking French to who knows who on his cellular, and motioning for me to put everything on the coffee table. What am I, room service on heels? Damn right I want a shopping spree!"

"For bringing him popcorn and hot chocolate?"

"And today's paper! It was from the hotel's lobby, but so what."

"Well, I'd hate to see if you bought him lunch or dinner."

"Then he'd be buying me Nordstrom's."
 
Diana sure keps me grounded.
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