"I beg your pardon?"
"I said, would you like me to--"
"I -- uh. What? Here?"
Now I like a good bee-jay as much as the next fella, and this was hardly my very first offer, but there was something about being so brazenly propositioned by this willowy little number in the white dress that caught me quite off guard.
"Whatsa matter, Honey?" he said, tickling my throat with his make-up brush. "Cat got your tongue?"
--p. 138, 139
Meet Debbie Harry, Chapter 37 of Larry Duplechan's Eight Days A Week: