How's That?

written 14:56 2/21/2008

Toots. He’d call her that but she smacked his face as an introduction. Should he remember her’s? The door slams behind her, a rattling window-pane shutters with the slammed wood frame. Her stare is angry an’ expectant. Any moment he’ll remember why…no the connection’s not coming.
“Do I know you?”
Aghast expression, “ya damn well should buddy. I want to know who sent ya.” Leans back, puts out a leg to tap the foot, crosses arms and looks down expectantly for a moment. “Come on, get talkin‘.”
Might bother Harry Salone to’ve a dame address him so flippant. But his mind’s off wondering where she’s from, hardly listening.
“You can talk cant‘cha? Who se-”
“hold on a second babe” such address readjusts her posture “I don‘t know what you‘re talking about.”
“You been trailing me for the last three days. I seen ya, in your blue ford, don‘t think I ain‘t seen ya. Was it Jackie? Did Jackie pay ya ta tail me?”
He’d follow her tail. Hadn’t been commissioned to. Blue ford…
Harry’s face is a Christmas tree just plugged in. “You want Mack Two-pugh. He’s in the office next door.”
Doll’s face is a lobster just steamed. “Sorry, ‘bout hittin‘ ya buddy.”
He was saying it was alright when she lost the downcast armholding and went for the door. Jiggled, with a softer closing, in a ceremony of ecstatic attempt to contact god.
What an easy mistake to make. Had the man got here to fix our numbers today, like he was suppose to, she wouldn’t-a stepped in here. Wonder what Mack’s following her for…