Not so safe in my arms…

“You don’t ever have to work again,” I told her as she cried and held me tight. “Go get in my car. Lock the doors.”

I walked up to the son of a bitch and grabbed him by his shirt collar tightly enough that he weased from lack of breath.

“Don’t mess with pestilence,” I said standing over him imposingly. “I can consume you with one gulf.”

“Fuck you bitch,” He replied as he tried to push me away.

I grabbed him closer as his shirt started to rip.

“You have a problem with English, don’t you?” I said. “I don’t play with little fuckers like you.”

“Man, take a chill pill,” He decreed. “I just thought those bitches were cute.”

I cringed at him calling my girl and Debra a bitch. The testosterone flowed freely. By this time, Debra, Carolyn’s co-worker, had called the police. They showed up and checked all our ID’s. Mr. Dingle berry got taken off for a failure to appear warrant.

“From now on, let the police handle such matters,” The sergeant on duty told me with a scolding air as he got back in his car to leave.

I nodded in compliance and then walked over to my car to check on Carolyn as I checked the many scratches on my arms.

“That’s the same son of a bitch I have been complaining to you about,” She said as she cried. “He comes in and watches us.”

“I know,” I said. “He is gone now. He won’t be back. I promise you that.”