Tale of a bored Housewife
TALE OF A BORED HOUSEWIFE It was a cool gray, November afternoon. I was walking down the quietupper middle class, suburban street I lived on, on the way to Gloria'shouse. It was fairly windy, a gust whipped up and I had to reach down tohold my skirt. I suppose my modesty wasn't really in jeopardy but theskirt was considerably shorter than what I was accustomed to wearing. Gloria had asked me to assist her with a party she was throwing forDave's boss. He had just started a new...