“Twinkle, Twinkle Like a Star“Are there any nuts in the banana bread?” I asked the waitress. “I’m allergic to walnuts.”
Frank was sipping his steaming Americana and studying me over the edge of his cup. It made me feel a bit uneasy. I brushed my bangs out of my eyes and smiled like I was posing for Playboy. But I’m afraid it probably came across more like a smile for, MAD Magazine, instead.
“Yes, I’m almost certain they put nuts in the bread,” answered the waitress.
There was no mistaking she was making the most of her Victoria’s secret “secret.” Her breasts were peeking out of the top of her white peasant button-down blouse and left little to the imagination. I would have bet my entire Marilyn Monroe commemorative card collection that her figure was an asset to her daily tips. Even I w
