I think he may have had a pantyhose fetish. He liked to strokemy nylon-covered skin. My nipples always responded when he did."Wait, wait, I can't stan... it anymore," Victor interrupted my story."You can't stand, what, anymore," I wanted to know."You know there is no such thing as hangover pills," he said,exasperated.My supposed claims of hangover pills affronted his personality. Victorwas a realist. He knew that I did not believe that such a thing existed.Although he was fascinated by my life. ’ “What’ll ya have, honey?” It had to be a union thing.“Well, Mabel, I was just going to have coffee, but I was just now thinking that the chicken fried steak might just hit the spot.”“You got it, honey.” after writing the ticket, Mabel put it on the carousel and called the order to the cook.While I was eating, I thought back over the past week. After leaving the lawyer’s office, I found a public library and started researching Jake’s place. I pulled up maps, both road and topographic. Right. More

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