Here’s another little bit of flash, which will I hope raise a smile this Monday Morning.
Jack had spent a cold, damp, winter morning going from house to house trying in vain to sell windows. By midday, he was wet, miserable, and starving.
The estate he’d been working had a small shopping precinct at its heart. There was a butcher, baker, newsagent, chip shop, and a small Indian restaurant. There was a long queue in the chippy. Jack didn’t want to wait. He tried the bakers, but they didn’t have anything that appealed.
There was a sign outside the butchers. “Freshly made, hot meat pies – £1 each.”
“Sounds good,” said Jack.
He ran into an old man coming out of the butchers. He wore a wide grin and looked very satisfied. “The pies good then, are they?” asked Jack.
“Dunno,” said the man. “I went in for a wank.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“There’s a girl works here who gives great wanks. Only five quid a tug. She does it out back in the meat fridge. Sounds funny, but by God she’s good.”
Jack shook his head. “In there? In the butchers?”
“Yeah. And that’s not all. Tenner gets you a blow job, twenty and she’ll let you stick it to her. That’s what I do on Mondays, you know, when I get my pension.”
The old man walked away and Jack went into the shop feeling slightly bemused. There was one woman behind the counter. She wasn’t particularly attractive in Jack’s opinion, but who was he to judge.
“Excuse me,” he whispered. “Are you the woman who gives wanks for a fiver?”
The woman smiled. “I might be. Who’s asking?”
“I’m not the police, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“In that case, yes. I am.”
“Right. Well, wash your hands will you and get me a meat pie.”