Rebuilding the Mainstage

I was in my yard pulling weeds this evening when a girl came walking down the alley. She was attractive enough. She looked to be about 19. Maybe 20. And she was obviously high on something.

"I always see you working in your yard. I thought I'd stop by and say hi."

"Hi."

"So do you have a wife and kids?"

It only gets better from there.  I said that I didn't, to which she mentioned that she had a seven year old daughter. I'm telling you, she's no more than 20.

I also said it gets better.

"Where did you grow up?"

I told her where I grew up and she then mentioned that she rides the bus through that town all the time. "Jefferson buses. They're like Greyhound, just different.  I ride out to S.F.  It's a five hour ride."

I had been more or less nodding my head (adding "uh huh") during this small talk exchange (as I kept weeding - for good reason). But to be a little more involved in the conversation, I asked her just what she went out there for.

"I work out there."

"What do you do?"

"I'm a dancer."

Ah.