Unexpected Developments

Past Imperfect – #572

Barbara: “My goodness, Mr. Fonda, you seem to be clutching my hand with lusty intention. Was it something I said?”

Henry: “Well, no. It’s not what you’re saying. It’s what you’re wearing.”

Barbara: “Oh, this little number? It’s merely something I threw together at the last minute. The skirt is just a tablecloth I stole from a restaurant, Chez Noir. And the top used to be a lampshade at Pier 1. A girl has to make ends meet, you know. Should we make our own ends meet?”

Henry: “It’s not your outfit, clever though it might be. It’s something a little lower.”

Barbara: “Aren’t we bold, my little hand-clutcher. Fond of my two-moon junction, are you?”

Henry: “A little lower than that.”

Barbara: “You’re confusing me, darling. The junction is my centerpiece. Everything else is just set decoration.”

Henry: “Not always. I’m rather enamored of decorations, especially when it involves a three-inch heel.”

Barbara: “Oh? Oh! You have a foot fetish!”

Henry: “Is that what they call it? I just call it a lonely Saturday night with free Internet access.”

Barbara: “It’s whatever you want to call it, I don’t judge, especially when the rent is due. But I wish you had said something sooner so I didn’t waste all this time squirming provocatively on an ugly ottoman. Let’s head over to Chez Noir and share some wine and throatily whisper about my strappy open-toed availability.”

Henry: “That sounds lovely, but I can’t really stand up right now due to… aerodynamic variances, if you catch my drift.”

Barbara: “Got it. The flag has been raised. Okay, well, perhaps we have trysting options much closer at hand. Or at foot. Does this store have a stockroom?”

Henry: “Indeed it does. But my wife is back there, manipulating the account ledgers to make this establishment appear more profitable than it really is. We’re making America great again.”

Barbara: “Wait, you have a wife? Okay, we’re done.”

Henry: “But I thought we had a connection!”

Barbara: “We did until you mentioned the other connection. I should have known better than to trust a man who looks like he should be selling ice cream from the back of a truck.”

Henry: “You must have me confused with Donald Trump.”

Barbara: “Not at all. Donald would have had one of his lawyers make me sign a non-disclosure agreement before I sat down on this ugly ottoman.”

 

10 replies »

  1. Now that you mention it, he looks like a tall version of our Swann delivery man. Good call.
    Barbara would never have signed a non-disclosure, do you think? She might have played, shall we say, stormy women, but she never played dumb.

    Liked by 1 person

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