"No photos on Date-a-Dyke?"
"That's one way to keep the boys away. You'd think it'd be the other way around, that they'd have trouble finding photos to post, but they just download them from somewhere else." She rolled her eyes. "Teenage boys sending each other naked pictures of the women they're pretending to be. Some world we live in, huh, Bern?"
"What's her name, the woman you're meeting?"
"If we hit it off, she'll probably tell me sooner or later. Right now we're on a screen name basis. She's GurlyGurl."
"She probably won't show up dressed to go duck hunting."
"I think the screen name's partly ironic, actually. She's not ultra-femme, but she doesn't drive a Peterbilt semi, either."
"Somewhere in the middle."
"Uh-huh."
" 'I'm not a lipstick lesbian, but I play one at the office.' "
"Something like that, Bern. She sounds pretty interesting. Even if it's not a romance, it should make for a fun evening. So I'd have to say I'm looking forward to Friday."
"Me too," I said.
Three
I went back to the bookstore and opened up, and I can't say my afternoon would have been any less exciting if I'd been, say, a paralegal at a law firm representing lenders in commercial real estate transactions. GurlyGurl must have earned more than I did that day, and I'll bet she's got medical coverage, too.
I closed up around six, brought in my bargain table from its place on the sidewalk, made sure Raffles had dried food in his food dish and fresh water in his water bowl, and that the bathroom door was ajar so he could use the toilet. I met Carolyn at the Bum Rap, and we ordered our usual scotches, hers on the rocks, mine with a splash of soda. Maxine brought them and we drank to something-crime, most likely-and worked on our drinks. Somewhere in the middle of our second round, Carolyn asked if I wanted to come over to her place for an evening in front of the television set. It was Wednesday, she pointed out, and that meantThe West Wing andLaw amp; Order, both of which would go perfectly with some take-out Chinese from Hunan Pan.