COURTESY CONFIDENTIAL, Chapter II

Before I go any further, I should probably mention that the mumbling guy rushing past me, which makes him a bit of a sissy in my book, had a little dog with him. A little dog, and no baggie. That burns me. Apparently the sissy thought that letting little Fido do his daily business wherever he wanted without picking up after him was okay. Which made the man even more of a sissy in my book, but it was my experiment to be polite and this was my cue.

“Excuse me.”

The man looked up at me warily.

“Do you need a bag?”

“A what?”

“You know, a bag. For your dog.”

“What’s it to you?”

“I noticed that you didn’t seem to have one.”

“So?”

“So I wouldn’t want to see you get stuck with a fine.”

“A fine for what?”

“Breakin’ the law, my friend.”

“I ain’t your friend.”

“If I save you two hundred and fifty Washingtons, I just might be.”

The man took a moment to look me over and I think he liked what he saw.

“Alright, sure, yeah, I could use a bag.”

“You got it.” I reached into my alligator handbag and extracted one lightly scented blue baggie. I handed it to him. He brought the baggie to his nose and inhaled lightly. He smiled.

“Thanks, kiddo. You’ve got some style.”

“So I’ve heard.”

He chuckled and used the baggie to pick up little Fido’s morning deposit. I made that my cue to beat it. I didn’t want to blow my cover just yet and let on I was all over the guy like syrup on the Belgian Waffles at Dupars. Besides, the sissy was starting to grow on me a little and I wanted to play it cool.

“Where’s the fire?” he said as I started to walk away.

“There’s always one somewhere.” I said.

I turned and walked away from him, my spike heels hitting the pavement in a staccato rhythm that made me feel like humming a little tune. So I did. My experiment was off to a fine start.

To be continued...