When we woke up, it was dark outside and the TV was showing a soccer game neither of us cared to watch. I turned the station to a movie with lots of chase scenes, gunfire, and car crashes and put the sound on as loud as we could stand it. Then I turned on the dishwasher, washing machine and dryer, and ran the shower. We got to work locating and removing all the bugs in the house. Pops had a sweeping device that proved handy. The most interesting placement we found was on the back of the toilet tank. What wonderful recordings they must have, especially that night I'd had one too many bean burritos! I was glad to find only listening devices. At least they weren’t peeping Toms. Pops had the job of installing the one we didn’t destroy on the back of one of Mrs. Massingill’s television speakers.
Having accomplished that task, we dressed for the evening. I wore the skankiest, shortest dress in my closet and the sparkliest jewelry I had, along with some cheap spike heels I had bought for occasions like this. My best Jersey girl wig went on my head. I slathered tons of makeup on my face and affixed long black fake eyelashes. I stuck two pieces of Juicy Fruit in my mouth and started chewing. Pops slicked his hair back with some of my mouse and sprayed it until it was like a motorcycle helmet on his head. He left the top two buttons of his shirt undone and slipped a tacky gold chain around his neck. We took a final look around the apartment and headed out into the night.
“Got an idea of the first place you want to hit?” he asked as he slid into the driver’s seat and buckled up.
“Like I hang out at titty bars?”
“Like I do?” He smirked at me as he pulled out of the parking lot in the green Subaru Forrester. Very inconspicuous choice, I thought, as I ran my hand over the cloth seat cover.
“What do I know about where you hang out?”