She watches the white suburban hip hop boys strut around the shopping mall. Sometimes you can’t even imagine sucking their toes, she thinks.

He lost a cufflink and stepped in dog shit. But he had flowers and she appreciated that and said so. Man, I really hate cufflinks, she said.

They went out for drinks. He was handsome and funny. But he ordered a Chardonnay. And she knew he would never be the father of her children.

The Muzak played. He had been on hold for so long, he felt himself age. Then a voice came through the line. But he didn’t need help anymore.

And he sits alone on the beach, sifting his fingers through the sand. He wants to be philosophical. But he can only contemplate a margarita.