If you ever had any doubts about just how drop-dead sexy I really am, maybe this brief story will dispel them for you.
You may remember a few weeks back I posted about the little round Asian lady at the dry-cleaners who loves me. The passage of a few weeks has not served to dampen her ardor; if anything, it’s gotten worse.
Last Saturday, my lovely and talented wife Aries28 and I were planning our day when the phone rang. She answered, listened a moment, and then, with a twinkle in her eye, handed me the phone. “It’s for you,” she said – a trifle evilly.
It was the dry-cleaning lady. “Meestah Sauron!” she trilled. “You been gone rong time! You have shuts heah to pick up.”
I apologized for leaving the shirts there too long. “***MY WIFE ***and I will be running some errands soon, so WE will swing by to pick them up,” I said. Subtly emphasizing the fact that I was married and therefore unavailable. It’s the same technique I use whenever Jessica Alba calls to ask me if I’m busy.
It’s lost on the dry-cleaning lady, though. “Hokay!” she says. “I crose at 1, so you stop by befoah then!”
So we run our errands, and then we swing by the dry cleaners. I pull into a parking spot, sit there a moment, sigh, and then say to my lovely wife, “You’re not going in to get the shirts, are you.”
“Nope!” she says. “It’s up to you. Go give her a thrill.”
So I walk into the store. The little round Asian lady brightens visibly. “Meestah Sauron! So grad you come by!”
“I’m sorry to have left the shirts here so long,” I said. “I guess ***MY WIFE ***dropped them off and forgot to tell me.”
“No, no,” she said. “You dlop them off. I leemembuh. March 18. You came by.”
I sighed. “Okay, I guess I just forgot, then,” I said.
She scurried into the back and brought out the shirts. “You must be almost out of shuts by now! This a big bunch!” She pulled the little bills off the different plastic covers and quickly added them up. “You owe $42.60,” she said.
I realized I didn’t have that much cash with me, so I pulled out my wallet and slid out my debit card. My wallet is a money-clip deal; rather than a pocket for paper money, it has a money clip on the front, and then pockets and windows for credit cards and such. (I know this doesn’t seem relevant to the story, but trust me – the importance of this will be made clear in a moment.) I handed her my debit card. She held it a moment, rather pensively.
“You pay by cahd?” she asked.
“Yes, it’s a debit card,” I said. “Is that a problem? I’ve used it here before.”
“No, no probrem,” she said. “Onry, you know, I have to make you pay new chahge to use cahd.”
“It’s a debit card,” I said. “There’s not a charge for debit cards. Just credit cards.”
As we’re talking, I’m holding my wallet in my hand, resting on the counter. It’s turned so that the money-clip portion of the wallet is face-up, and the few bills I have in there are visible.
As God is my witness, she reaches forward and starts thumbing through the money in my money clip. “How much you got there?” she asked.
This woman is fondling my wallet! I’m too stunned to do anything but answer. “It’s $23,” I said.
She thinks a moment. “Not enough to pay for shuts. Not with money, anyway.” I want desperately to believe she’s just thinking out loud, but my brain is screaming in my head SHE’S GOING TO SUGGEST SOMETHING INDECENT I JUST KNOW IT OH DEAR LORD THIS ISN’T HAPPENING …
“I don’t have to have the shirts right now!” I blurt out. “I can get some cash from the bank and come back later! Or another day! Or you can just keep the shirts! Really! It’s no problem! I’ll buy more!”
“No, no, you don’ have to come back latuh, I just don’ want you to have to pay new chahge to use you cahd. Let me think of something.”
NO NO NO NO NO
She brightens. “I know!” she said. “This time, I won’t make you pay chahge.” She winked. “It’s our rittle secret.” She ran my debit card through the payment machine.
“Thank you!” I said, more forcefully than I should have. I was too relieved at the realization that coitus would not be necessary to get my shirts back to think of much else.
I took the shirts back to the van, stowed them away, and collapsed into the seat. Aries28 looked at me expectantly.
“That took longer than I thought it would,” she said. “Everything okay?”
And I honestly had no clue what to say to her.
It’s probably for the best - can’t have me leaving my husband to stalk you, right??
