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"The prodigal son is getting his bag on after a hard day's work," Marlene remarked, and, following Rose's look over at the other tables, added, "The Damico brothers, Gary and Phil, general contractors, and Billy Ireland. I think I'll just leave the four of them alone. They look too crude for the likes of us."
"They would be the Shelley Society in McCullensburg," said Rose.
Marlene picked up a little card stuck to the chrome stand that held packets of sweetener. "Gosh, anchovies and artichokes is the special pizza and they're doing crabcakes, by which I can tell it's Friday." She waved to flag down a waitress. "I'm sorry to say we can't get shit-faced. I have to pick up my husband at eight oh seven."
"I bet he's not crude," said Rose.
"Oh, he has his crude moments. But generally he's the Shelley Society compared to me."
"Your trainer is staring at you. Not necessarily an employee-employer look, if I may say so."
"Yes, well, that's partly why I keep him around," said Marlene. "And he's terrific with the dogs."
Copyright © 2002 by Robert K. Tanenbaum.
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