Veronica stepped off the last step of the stone stairs onto the sidewalk of King Street. She looked down at her new yellow shoes with pointed toes and clicked off towards Seventh Avenue to catch the C local train heading uptown.
She pulled her blouse open a little more to allow the morning sun’s rays to bounce off her glistening white boobs. Her chin connected to the soft, sponge-like surface of her breasts while she made sure they will still perky.
A UPS driver dressed in a dark brown jumpsuit paid her no attention as he reached into the back of the box- like truck to pull out a cardboard container. It infuriated Veronica when men didn’t watch her like they once did. She stopped her shoes from clicking down the sidewalk, flipped open her cell phone and pretended to be making an important phone call.
She wanted to be absolutely sure the delivery dude wasn’t interested in carrying her away.
“Yo- move, bitch! Get out da way!” shouted the Latino delivery man.”
Veronica covered up her secret weapons and decided to forget about trying to remain sexy and irresistible. She would have accept the fact that she wasn’t the cat’s meow any longer and men these days seem to be more attracted to those MTV video girls with child like bodies and colored contact lenses.
She watched as the driver walked with a small package towards her apartment complex and a tear trickled down her chubby cheek. She decided to forget going to work and headed back up the stone stairs towards the driver still ringing the doorbell.
The man in brown removed a small cordless headset from his ear and asked, “Excuse me—does a Mrs. Frumkes live here?” “That’s my neighbor, I’ll sign for it,” answered Veronica.
“Wow, I never saw an I-Pod that hooks right up to your ear! You know sir, I didn’t know you were singing a rap song when you passed me back there and shouted “Move, bitch, get out da way! But now that I see you were only singing and not actually talking to me, I feel so much better.”
“What da fuck you talkin’ bout ho? This is my hearing aide. Would you hurry up and sign for this? I get off and fifteen minutes and I’m going to an all male sex party in Brooklyn tonight, girlfriend! By the way, those shoes are fierce, honey!” exclaimed the driver as he headed back to his truck.
She pulled her blouse open a little more to allow the morning sun’s rays to bounce off her glistening white boobs. Her chin connected to the soft, sponge-like surface of her breasts while she made sure they will still perky.
A UPS driver dressed in a dark brown jumpsuit paid her no attention as he reached into the back of the box- like truck to pull out a cardboard container. It infuriated Veronica when men didn’t watch her like they once did. She stopped her shoes from clicking down the sidewalk, flipped open her cell phone and pretended to be making an important phone call.
She wanted to be absolutely sure the delivery dude wasn’t interested in carrying her away.
“Yo- move, bitch! Get out da way!” shouted the Latino delivery man.”
Veronica covered up her secret weapons and decided to forget about trying to remain sexy and irresistible. She would have accept the fact that she wasn’t the cat’s meow any longer and men these days seem to be more attracted to those MTV video girls with child like bodies and colored contact lenses.
She watched as the driver walked with a small package towards her apartment complex and a tear trickled down her chubby cheek. She decided to forget going to work and headed back up the stone stairs towards the driver still ringing the doorbell.
The man in brown removed a small cordless headset from his ear and asked, “Excuse me—does a Mrs. Frumkes live here?” “That’s my neighbor, I’ll sign for it,” answered Veronica.
“Wow, I never saw an I-Pod that hooks right up to your ear! You know sir, I didn’t know you were singing a rap song when you passed me back there and shouted “Move, bitch, get out da way! But now that I see you were only singing and not actually talking to me, I feel so much better.”
“What da fuck you talkin’ bout ho? This is my hearing aide. Would you hurry up and sign for this? I get off and fifteen minutes and I’m going to an all male sex party in Brooklyn tonight, girlfriend! By the way, those shoes are fierce, honey!” exclaimed the driver as he headed back to his truck.
posted by Charles George Taylor at
10:02 AM
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