I tell ya, I was real scared. First job since I quit Wal-Mart.
Dunno what I was expecting. Grandmothers, I guess. Wrinkly and soapy and whiny. So when this guy walks in, I'm thinking what is this? Yeah, he was old — but a real looker.
My boss said talk about the weather. Anything, anything but politics. So I says nice day and he says yeah, and it’s real weird, but before I know it I'm telling him about some book I read in high school. Dunno why. Then he asks me how long I've been a pedicure girl. Normally, I woulda lied, but he seemed kinda nice so I told the truth. He said I was good for a beginner, and made some clever joke I didn’t understand, but I laughed anyway. Then he did this funny wiggly thing with his toes and I had to tell him to stop ‘cos my ribs hurt real bad.
Strange, though. I could see there was something on his mind. Sure, while I buffed him up, the way he was talking, he coulda been sittin' in a coffee bar, telling me about his favourite TV shows and all kinda goofy stuff about his dog, but it was there, behind his eyes, like a sad, sad secret. All locked away.
I shouldn’t have, I know, but as he left, I had to ask him, ‘you OK?’
‘Fine,’ he says, and smiles, but we both kinda knew. Then he asks, ‘you here next Monday?’ So I nod and he heads for the desk.
After that, it was grandmothers. Grandmothers and crazy bimbos. When I got out at six I ran straight for a bar. But I figure I’ll stick it a while. 9.15 Monday sounds fine, right now.