“Walter was pouting because of what had happened forty-five minutes earlier, when they were eating dinner at the Burger King on 27th Avenue. What happened was, Walter finally made his move. Monica knew he was getting ready, because he’d been displaying his biceps even more than usual, which was a lot. Walter had very large biceps; he kept them inflated by doing hundreds of curls per day. He rolled up the already short sleeves of his uniform shirt so their whole studly bulging masculine vastness ...was on display. At the Burger King, he was giving Monica a good view of them, flexing them when he raised his Whopper to his mouth, as though it weighed fifty pounds. “So,” he said, with elaborate casualness, “I was thinking maybe you and me could get together sometime?” “Walter,” she said, “we’re together all the time. We’re together now.” “You know what I mean,” he said. Of course she knew what he meant. He meant let’s have sex. Monica had discovered that’s what guys always meant when they said, Maybe we could get together.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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