That happened, grandly, at the beginning of Mack’s second week at work. I’d been covering the register for him while he studied in my office, when Sparkle, festooned with gift bags, pranced into the store wearing loose, white gabardine slacks and a cream-colored, silk chemise tied into a knot below his chest. He was so dark from the sun that when he walked into the shop I could’ve sworn it was that actor from the Sprite commercials. You know the one: the un-cola-nut guy with the rolling letters. The same guy who played the zombie in the James Bond movie. I have no idea what his name is, but I’m sure you’d recognize him. Anyway, that’s who Sparkle reminded me of as he ceremoniously laid down my gifts on the countertop. Every person in the store turned to watch the event, which, of course, o
