catfish 18

 I don't see anything presented that shows that wages have risen appreciably so I am done with that.  If you choose to believe that Sinclair is fair and balanced go ahead.  I have led you to water, and if you choose not to drink deeply, well I wash my hands.

 I made a small joke, namely that both of these findings should be good news for the liberals, but that they might not be because none of this was government mandated. 

I did not think that was quite fair because you are putting words into the mouth of my ilk, but hell, I have done just as bad, and often worse when I have been on my high horse.

It does bring up the subject of income inequality which is a big part of The Liberal Agenda and I had selected the appropriate wiki article and was just about to put chalk to blackboard when I realized it is Friday so why not let it go?

Which reminds me of a story from my subbing days.  It was the last day of the semester, soft early summer breezes were wafting into the dark halls.  The bell had already rung and I was headed to the office to punch out when suddenly some kid dashed right by me.  "Now see here Young Man," I said, or words to that effect, my intention being to give him a short lecture on the danger of running in the hallways.

But he did not know that, for all he knew I was going to take him down to the office and get him into some kind of trouble and all this on the last day of school after the bell had rung.  Our eyes locked for a couple seconds and then he was off.

Now I was pissed.  He had compounded his crime. I took off after him, my intentions being, once I had caught him, to take him down to the office and charge him with fleeing an officer of the school law, something like that.

But I never caught him, he was young and I was old, also it was kind of the situation where the fox is running after his dinner but the rabbit is running for his life.  He got away into the crowd and I went down to punch out muttering to myself.

But on the train back downtown I realized that it was a good thing that he got away.  If I had collared him, and taken him down to the office this would have taken maybe an extra half hour of my time that I would not have been paid for.  It would be one more pain in the ass for the good folks of the office who were just as eager to begin their summer vacation as the kid was, and it would have put a damper on the kid's day and likely his parents also.  Everybody would have lost, so by contrast we all won by the kid getting away.

No lit crit I notice.  This is not the last day of school, but it is Friday. so what the hell? 

Pretty smug with myself over the Island Girl adventure I sauntered back to my stool to find Gina sitting right in the next barstool counting up her tip money.  She looked up at me as I sat down next to her, and she smiled, and her soft little pink fingers undid it must have been the third button down on her starched white blouse. She took a deep breath, "You like?" she wanted to know. 

"Well yeah," I answered. What did she expect me to say? 

She leaned into me, her soft breasts against my elbow as she slipped the tip money into her purse. "You were magnificent," she said. 

Well I thought so too, but just to make sure that we were talking about the same thing I asked, "How so?" 

That hillbilly would have kicked his ass. Island girls, how did you come up with that?" 

"I just started talking and one thing led to another, it all turned out okay."  I cut myself a little short, normally I would have gone on, played up the hero bit because really everything had worked out so well, but I could tell that if I went on too long about it it would be like bragging, which is fine and a lot of fun, but I suspected that wouldn't get me any closer to my goal which was now centered on Gina's quite opened blouse, and leaning over unobtrusively, that black lace bra which was just, well, welcoming me. 

"Yes it did, my hero," and she was leaning into me even heavier now, her voice soft and sweet and I was just seeing how fine this would all turn out when she said in that same soft and sweet voice, "I was really afraid that Itch was going to get beat up." 

Itch? How did he get into this? "You like him?" I asked and I really only meant this as a joking thing, a kind of teasing. 

She kind of pulled back, her breasts fading from my arm with her more erect posture, her half-opened whispering lips, pursed now in a straight line of serious concentration.  "I feel sorry for him," she said. 

Sorry for him?  Oh those words chilled me.  When a guy feels sorry for someone it just means something like too bad for that poor fucker, glad it's not me.  But when a girl feels sorry for a guy, those little tender tendrils go out.  I should know I've done it plenty of times myself, poor Catfish, not as educated, a po' boy really, a diamond in the rough, lacking only that touch of tenderness, oh works like a charm, I can tell you that Pal. 

"You know he acts so tough, so cynical," she continued, her breasts now seeming a million miles away, "Sometimes I just feel that..." 

 And here was a little pause and I stepped on it quick. "I know what you mean, he's a great guy, a great guy. We all think the world of him, and that's why I'm so glad that I was able to keep his head from being all swollen up like a watermelon."  A little crude here but I needed to shock her a little bit to get her focus back on who was the hero here, and it seemed to work well enough because the breasts came back and later we were all jumbled up on the walk back to her apartment, and at the good night station after the kiss she allowed my hands free rein over that terrain.  That little black bra tickled the undersides of my hands as I reached back for the clasps, and then she stopped me dead. 

"Catfish, I really like you," she said as she was pulling away, "I really do, really I really do. But I don't know, I just don't know," and then kind of sudden, because I didn't expect this with the excellent progress I had been making, she was inside her door and it was slamming on my face.