The Motel Manager rushed in, proffering a cellular phone, even as he tried to discreetly cram his vile mask into the pocket of his polyester sports coat.
"Here, it's for you. Seems to be important, they couldn't get through on the phone in yer room..."
Muffy put down the handset of the phone in her room, with an ironic wave of farewell to the still yammering telemarketer.
"Hello?"
"Muffy? Is taht you?"
It was a woman's voice, quite unfamiliar to her. It sounded like a long distance call.
"Yes. Who is this?
"Waht are you wearing?"
"Who is this?"
"Ummm, you can call me "Janice", for the time being. Waht are you wearing? I know you are wearing some kind of fake satin, but I need to get exact details from you. My DD would be invalid unless I speak to you directly. Hold on. Eric, anytime you care to pour me the rest of the Petrus before it bloody well evaporates will be just fine. Thank you. So, Muffy, please, I really need to know if you are wearing satin."
Muffy cradled the cell phone against her ear and sat on the bed.
"Yes, it's satin. Or satin-like, anyway. I had to improvise a bit..."
"But how does it feel?"
"Pretty good, actually, now you mention it. In fact, I was just daydreaming about being ravaged by Sherman's troops when...hey, what business is it of yours anyway???"
"Muffy, I'm going to let you in on a little secret. I'm recruiting an informal group of us girls (and possibly jhild) who love to dress in satin. We'll have our own thread on Silicon Investor, too. I'm going to call it "Calling All SI Satinists." Would you care to join us?" |
