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There was a conversation about her tattoos one day. My thought was ‘If the good lord wanted me to be covered with different colors and designs, he would have put them there. She always took time off the attend The Westminster Dog Show, I did not have the balls to ask if she was entered or watched. She had some of the worst emotional problems I ever ran across. She would rant and rave, then cry real tears and then the next minute she was back to normal. In short she was not the ideal girl friend, not for me any way. I always thought of a roller coaster called the Mad Mouse. It was not fast, but there were 90 degree turns and sudden drops, it looked like the thing was going to tip right off the track at any moment. About a year after she started to work there she got really friendly with me, started to tell me about her dates and crap that I had no desire to here about. I asked, ‘Aren’t you married?’ Yep, she was but he had turned into a drunk. No shit man!! If I was married to you. V.T. in about fifteen minutes and soon after that we were parked in front of one of the buildings bearing that awful pink paint. We got out of the car and walked up to the door. It was fairly early and school was in so there weren’t any k**s outside. It was actually kind of quiet. The door opened and there stood a woman a bit shorter than Sasha with the same dark skin and similar features. Sasha was prettier and taller and sexier, but her sister had some nice tits. They must have been 36D’s. She was drunk (I could tell) and asked us to come in. We went in and took a seat on the couch. Sasha made a quick introduction, and her sister, whose name was Cevee, asked: what kind of fucking name was Webb? I asked her : What kind of fucking name was Cevee? We all laughed for a second and Sasha asked for a beer. They talked for a while about Cevee’s daughter. It seems that she needed Sasha to watch the little girl for her until the early evening. Sasha agreed to do it and we got ready to.
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