It's nighttime and my woman and I are at the Steak 'n Shake and we're pulling (stealing) the Sentricon Termite Colony Elimination System ground spikes out (from around the building) and putting them in her Dior 'Rebel' Hobo Handbag (Made of leather and suede-$1,495 at Neiman Marcus). 
 
"How many you got Norm?" she says. 

Twice she's nearly fallen while running in her Jessica Simpson red patent leather pumps.

"I got three," I say, then pushing them into her oversized handbag.

"We need twelve," she says.  "Five for the long sides of the trailer and one for each end."

My woman lives in a mobile home (that she inherited) from her recently deceased father.  The place is infested with termites and the cost of having it serviced is $1800.  She's been told that the Sentricon Colony Elimination System (plastic spikes pushed into the ground with poisonous bait inside) is the best but she can't afford that so we're pulling up the spikes that are protecting the Steak 'n Shake near her home (After her fathers funeral everyone met up there and that's when she spotted their Sentricon stuff).  Of course I'm helping her because she said we'd ball one another (while we listen to the new CD by Garbage) in her trailer afterward. 

She says:

"I've got four and your three make seven.  Five more will do it."

This is dangerous work but I'd mow someone over with my vintage Cadillac if she asked me too ('cause I like her ass an awful lot).  Twice now an old woman looking out the window sees me pulling Sentricon spikes from the ground and once I'm pretty sure I saw her talking to one of the waitresses (and pointing in my direction).

"Here's three more," I say. 

She's excited and is running toward me  and while she's running (in her Jessica Simpson red patent leather pumps) she says:

"That's ten, baby."        

When she says ten she falls and when she falls her Dior 'Rebel' Hobo Handbag opens and the the Sentricon Colony Elimination System ground spikes spill out and now we're in clear view of everyone seated in the restaurant (including the staff) and right quick a bunch of white cap wearing Steak 'n Shake employees are looking at us.    

I say:

"F-ck an A."

She says:

"Pick 'em up honey."

After a moment or two of neither of us talking (or doing anything) I say:

"I ain't picking 'em up."

She says:

"C'mon baby."

I'm standing in the parking lot of a Steak 'n Shake looking at everyone look at us through the big glass windows (and at all the stolen termite ground spikes laying about) and I'm smiling hoping to minimize repercussions and that's when I say: 

"I ain't going to jail for termite spikes, whore."

My Jessica Simpson gets up leaving the spikes that have fallen out of her Dior behind and she is walking to her car and with her head turned away from me she says:

"F-cker."

"I'm not with her," I say to the manager who has come outside.

If I helped her steal the Sentricon termite spikes my woman said I could hump her in her trailer while we listened to the latest CD by Garbage.


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