Echo

between his teeth, removing a piece of his late hot dog lunch and giving it a quick flick on the floor.
    “How ‘bout you two hot babes joining me tonight to celebrate our new relationship?” No sooner had he closed his mouth than all hell broke loose. The broads started screaming. The cops rushed into the hotel, arresting him for assault and taking him downtown to get booked. It took him all night to convince them it was just a mistake. A visit from the broad’s husband, attempting to get to the bottom of the incident certainly helped. Apparently, they wanted to fly home quickly, finding the whole experience sordid. ( Did I hear that asshole say sordid?) They refused to press charges and he got released. Slinking back to his hotel, tired, confused and deflated, he climbed into his hotel bed, alone and lonely. He felt crushed and disillusioned, not understanding why his recent good fortune would not entitle him to any available female he wanted. Bummed out, he deciding to celebrate tomorrow, quietly, by himself.

Chapter 24
    Ginger Mae Shrute sat on the bar stool, scanning her reflection in the expensive mirror on the back bar of the tony Martini Madness on Park Avenue, a great location to spot lonely business men, casually enjoying a quiet drink before dinner. From the distance, she realized she still projected a glamorous image, even though she leaned to the mature side. Only up close could you discern the lines around her eyes that even Botox failed to completely obliterate. And yeah, she knew the five extra few pounds needed to come off. But luckily, she still projected the look that helped her face maintained its healthy, pretty girl next door appeal. Lucky with her choice of plastic surgeons, she thought cynically, having been nipped and tucked for years. She knew she could pass for thirty five, quite a distance from her actual forty eight. She tried to banish the worry about her longevity in her chosen industry that remained a game for the youthful. She still managed to rope them in but she figured she would last maybe three years before she faced reducing her fees or starting to risk rejection. Her new priority forced her to save every dollar she could, squirreling it away for the time when she could say fuck you to the johns and grab her runaway money to make a last stab at a normal life. As if anyone actually lived a normal life anymore. But she must think of Daisy now.
    She checked her emerging grayish brown roots in the mirror, noting she could get away with them for another two weeks, tops. She even gave up her hairdresser, saving money by coloring her hair herself. Two separate processes. Two separate colors. It looked fairly good. Had to keep her short blond locks natural looking. She dropped her nail salon too. Glancing at her rosy pink oval nails, she noticed a few chips. A home manicure just doesn’t hold up half as well as a pro job.
    “Excuse me. Is this seat taken?” Looking up into the bright blue eyes of a friendly and eager businessman, probably from the Midwest, she dismissed him with a cool eye flick. He was clearly not clued in and would be a waste of her valuable time. Probably thought he found himself a single NYC career girl that would be overjoyed to burn her evening talking to a married Minnesota businessman in the big city without his wife. He would shoo her out his hotel room door in the morning with a promise to call her next time he’s back in town, and then zip back to his upstanding wife and children, while congratulating himself on his sophisticated daring in the big city.
    “Miss, would you care for a cocktail?” asked Mr. Daring Businessman, trying again. She turned to respond as he stuck out his hand to introduce himself.
    “Hi, I’m Jackson Bonderclod, friends just call me Jack.” Sighing audibly, Ginger Mae tiredly gathered her drink and purse, shot Mr. Daring Businessman a casual go fuck yourself look, and left him standing with his hand still proffered, an embarrassed surprised look on his marginally attractive face. She slid off her bar stool, noticing the bartender observing the exchange. Well, this should get his panties out of the knot she probably wadded them up in as he tried to figure out if he was going to have a problem running off a working girl. What working girl would rebuff Mr. Daring Businessman? The smart ones , she grinned to herself, watching the bartender visibly relax as she took a new seat at a small table in the back of the room; all the