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Hey Gal! Whappn deh? Yuh batty look nice eeh... She heard the strident male voice and hurried her steps while keeping her face dead straight.
Oi! Look here no man! Whappn, yuh nuh memba me? Mi know say a roun Kencot yuh live yuh kno! This caused her head to jerk around involuntarily and she was immediately rueful of the act. For there, not ten yards away, was a big burly fellow with his oversized member in his hand.
It pretty nuh chroo? Come siddung pan it nuh? He invited generously. She quickly averted her head and hastened her pace to an almost trot.
Whe yuh a run from it fah? He shouted. Yuh know ho much ooman ooda love fi get dis?
This she couldn't resist, so she retaliated without turning around, So whe yuh nuh gwan go geet to dem den? Mi no knoa out a it an yuh which one a oonuu uglier!
Den a which hood yuh eva hear bout pretty? Bo si ya- The rest of his tirade eluded her as she broke the corner. She slowed her steps and tried to still the shaking that she had come over her.
Every day, it was the same thing. If it wasn't him, it was someone else, or something else. She knew she was taking her life and health into her hands by coming this route every day, but it was the shortest way to work that would save her precious bus fares.
Maybe she should get the car. The car that Mr. Jones had offered to let her have for next to nothing. Next to nothing for him anyway - it was still a lot of money to her. Still, she had done her homework and found out that getting a car like that should cost at least five times more.
But what was she going to do with a car anyway - she couldn't drive. Ah, but Mr. Jones had offered to teach her how. Plus, when she had confided her concerns to her friend Pauline, Pauline had assured her that since the car was a 'matic, then she'd master it in no time.
Irma decided there and then that she'd take Mr. Jones up on his offer. Her steps were suddenly lighter, even though a nagging little voice wondered how exactly was she going to make payment and how exactly was Mr. Jones going to collect...
Oi! Look here no man! Whappn, yuh nuh memba me? Mi know say a roun Kencot yuh live yuh kno! This caused her head to jerk around involuntarily and she was immediately rueful of the act. For there, not ten yards away, was a big burly fellow with his oversized member in his hand.
It pretty nuh chroo? Come siddung pan it nuh? He invited generously. She quickly averted her head and hastened her pace to an almost trot.
Whe yuh a run from it fah? He shouted. Yuh know ho much ooman ooda love fi get dis?
This she couldn't resist, so she retaliated without turning around, So whe yuh nuh gwan go geet to dem den? Mi no knoa out a it an yuh which one a oonuu uglier!
Den a which hood yuh eva hear bout pretty? Bo si ya- The rest of his tirade eluded her as she broke the corner. She slowed her steps and tried to still the shaking that she had come over her.
Every day, it was the same thing. If it wasn't him, it was someone else, or something else. She knew she was taking her life and health into her hands by coming this route every day, but it was the shortest way to work that would save her precious bus fares.
Maybe she should get the car. The car that Mr. Jones had offered to let her have for next to nothing. Next to nothing for him anyway - it was still a lot of money to her. Still, she had done her homework and found out that getting a car like that should cost at least five times more.
But what was she going to do with a car anyway - she couldn't drive. Ah, but Mr. Jones had offered to teach her how. Plus, when she had confided her concerns to her friend Pauline, Pauline had assured her that since the car was a 'matic, then she'd master it in no time.
Irma decided there and then that she'd take Mr. Jones up on his offer. Her steps were suddenly lighter, even though a nagging little voice wondered how exactly was she going to make payment and how exactly was Mr. Jones going to collect...
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