This is why I smile as I walk and this is how you get happy. I knew she didn’t like to shave her legs were often bristly and she’s all about water conservation. She stood and I pulled her boyfriend jeans to the floor and I stopped short. This was not a blowjob this was fellatio, my friends. “What can I do to change your mind?” she wheedled.Īn hour later, I was the owner of an overpriced Easter Parade and Amy was sucking my dick in a Starbucks bathroom in Midtown and this was more romantic than it sounds because we liked each other. You can’t do business like this but you also can’t look at Amy with her big blue eyes and her long blond hair out of a Guns N’ Roses song and say no to her. “Yates isn’t big right now and I don’t see a resurgence on the horizon.”
She pleaded with me to drop seven hundred on a signed, wrinkled edition of The Easter Parade. She tugged on the lapel of the navy blazer she had bought for me-five bucks-at a tag sale. “You’re a good boy.”Īmy and I started dating a few months ago while we were on the Upper East Side in a dead man’s parlor. We became a team.Īn old woman pushing a walker looks up at me. You descend into musty vacated rooms together and you rush outside together to gulp the fresh air and laugh and agree that the only thing to do now is get a drink.
She wanted to work together and this is how you get to know someone so well, so fast. She wanted us to travel uptown to estate sales and hunt library clearances and jam our hands into empty boxes on the street. The way she saw it, if she was going to work here, she was going to make a dent. “Only if you promise not to call it yard-sale-ing.”Īmy smiled. “You never know what you’re going to find at yard sales.”
“You know, I could help you go yard-sale-ing for old books,” she said. I wanted to strip her down and lock us inside and have her. I wanted to place my hand on the small of her back and lead her down to the cage, where the special books are preserved, boxed, saved.
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