Quittin' Time

A little after five p.m., the mechanics at McMaster Auto Repair And Body Shop headed towards their respective personal vehicles, calling across the black asphalt in the jovial manner of men at the end of the work day. As Bobby Gene Nelson veered off towards his pickup truck, he saw the bright red Honda Civic parked at the edge of lot, near the street. The driver was behind the wheel.

The car window on the passenger side descended as Bobby Gene strutted towards the vehicle. "Miss Szopas!" Bobby Gene grinned a big, lopsided grin as he looked over the length of the car. "I see you bought it."

"Yes," she answered in that strange accent of hers. "I just signed the papers and thought I would bring it by for those repairs you mentioned."

"Well we're closed right now," he glanced back over his shoulder where he saw the owner turning out the lights of his office and pulling the blinds shut. "And I ain't rightly sure what the schedule is like for tomorrow. But that don't matter none. All the repairs are minor." He patted the roof of the car. "You can drive this baby for weeks without worrying about them."

"There was also another reason that I came by... Bobby," she remembered not to call him 'Mister'. Lowering her eyelids, she appeared to struggle to say the words she wanted to say. "If you do not have any plans for the evening... maybe you and I could have dinner together." She looked up at him with her eyes wide, as if afraid she had said something wrong. "I hope... I hope I am not being too forward."

Seems that neither of them found their formality towards the other to be strange. As if blowjob from less than six hours ago never happened.

Bobby-Gene hesitated. He was still carrying the torch of Thelma Lou (said blowjob notwithstanding), but those dark, almost purple eyes staring up at him caused him to shrug. "Sure. Why not? I was just gonna pick up a six-pack at the Gas-And-Go and play online first-shooter games for the rest of the evening."

"Would you like to eat at my place?" she asked with a slight waver in her voice, perhaps fearing rejection. "It has been so long since I have cooked for anyone."

He accepted the offer and she gave him her address. As for the time, she said, "Now. You can watch T.V. and keep me company while I cook."

When he said that he would stop off somewhere and get a bottle of wine, she told him, "Oh, just get a six pack of beer for yourself." She started her car engine. "I never drink... wine."