“I’d like t’ make friends all good an’ proper, Mister Black.” I fluttered my eyelashes at ‘im the way I watch the ladies do in the city late at night in the bars talkin’ to all the drunk men, an’ to my surprise, it actually worked. Silly silly.
“I don’t know what to say to that.”
“Alls ya have t’ say is yay or nay, or go ‘way.” I giggled at him, an’ I sang him a song, then.
“Red an’ black looks good in the —”
“Looks good in the what, m’lady?”
I giggled at that. I been called all kinds o’ things. Crazy, loony, silly, but never ever never a lady o’ all things.
“Looks good in the SACK, silly! Can’tcha know how t’ make songs an’ things?”
He was putty in my little hands. Y’see, it went to perfect plan.
Step 1: Pretend to be lost an’ or lookin’ for somethin’.
Step 2: If’n they get suspicious like, pout, do that trembly bottom lip thing an’ look like yer goin’ to cry. If they’re still not convinced, actually cry.
Step 3: Initiate physical contact while cryin’. What man can resist a distressed woman sobbin’ on his shirt? Not many, I can tell ya that from practice.
Step 4: Feign bein’ all homeless an’ stuff. They’ll take ya home.
Step 5: Borrow all their shinies after they’re sleepin’ (Give them a good time or not dependin’ on how drunk or lonely they are. It’s situational.)
Busy busy, things t’ do, things t’ do an’ people too!