Warning: graphic sex entry ahead.
Rose is currently serving time in a call centre, but may get sprung soon because I know all kinds of people in all walks of life. I found out about the nepotism involved in getting a job in Canada Post. A friend of a friend works there, and his uncle is the plant manager at one of the locations. The only way to get a job there is for an employee, preferably a high-ranking one, to submit your application on your behalf. Now mail sorting isn't more interesting than working a call centre, but the pay is about 60% higher, so.
Last night we were enjoying some bedroom shenanigans when she playfully put a hair clip in my hair, since it was getting in her face. Now, I am the type that likes to give as well as I get, so at some point I was...how shall I put it, trolling the trout-filled waters eating at the Y yodeling up her yoni, yeah, that'll do...anyway as I was doing that I was particularly into it. I think she was, too. Towards the very end of that lovemaking session, the phone rings, and I figure that it could be none other than MacEachran, my contact at Canada Post.
MacEachran is a cool guy with Scottish blood and red, red hair. He met Diana, his girlfriend two years ago, and three months later she was pregnant. The only time I had met her she was four months pregnant and had long hair. And I had forgotten how cartoonishly girlish her voice was. He was calling to tell me that they and their baby (who also has flaming red hair, but very short) were in the neighbourhood and that he had the application for Canada Post. He would call when he was outside and I could pick it up.
