Sunday, September 10, 2017

Oh Marie

On the day Marie called I stayed at the radio station until 5 PM or so.  From there I headed over to a little diner for a quick, cheap meal before going to the broadcasting school.  I worked at the school until 9:30 helping out with a class that was learning how to work in a radio studio. Back in those days that meant an analog control board, two open reel tape decks, a tape cartridge machine, two turntables, a microphone and headphones. One of the women in the class was someone I had barely noticed before, Becky K.  I didn't notice her that night because of her appearance, in fact she struck me as someone who tried to not be noticed by appearance.  What I did note was how much better she was than the rest of the class at audio work. 

I spoke to Becky briefly during the mid-class break and complimented her on how well she was doing.  Through that conversation I found out she had a BFA from a good university but had decided to try broadcasting.  An arts degree made sense to me-- she dressed in dark vintage clothing, wore no makeup that I could tell, smoked constantly, and drank black coffee at 8 o'clock at night.  Her hair was permed into a frizz-- she was a skinny, pale English / Irish girl with a dirty blond Afro.  At one time Becky would have been called a Bohemian, or maybe a Beatnik.  Everything about her look was muted.  But, one thing was sure, she had voice talent.  Of course I immediately saw her as someone who could replace Marsha on commercials where I needed a female voice.  But that's where the similarity ended.

After class was done that evening a few people were talking about going out for a beer.  I told them I'd meet them at The Town Tap, one of the nearby watering holes.  I had parked in the lot behind the school and when I got to my van I noticed Marie's T-Bird sitting next to it.  As I got near she powered down her window.

"Hello William," she said quite formally.
"Hi, Marie.  I'm surprised to see a woman of your standing in the community idling about in a parking lot at 9:45 at night."
"Funny," she said, "I'm here to proposition you. So much for my 'standing in the community.'"

I stood at the driver's side window of her car my hands on the door leaning over slightly.  From that angle I could see from her eyes down to her knees in the light from the overhead lamps ringing the lot.  She was wearing a dark blue well-tailored dress.  From my point of view I saw bright eyes, full red lips, a big firm bosom, and thick shapely legs visible from mid-thigh.

"What's your proposition, Marie?"
"Come to my place.  You can stay as long as you want," she said.
"I'm not sure that's a good idea," I said, my brain forming words that the boner in my pants objected to.
"What could possibly be bad about my idea?"
"Well," I said, "You're somebody that wants everything to go your way and I'm somebody that wants everything to go my way.  It seems to me like that's a recipe for conflict."
"Afraid of a fight?" Marie said.
"No.  But I'm not looking to be perturbed either."
"You use such interesting words, radio guy.  Are you saying that you like to be dominant in your, ahem, bedroom relations?"

I didn't say anything for a moment.  Mainly because I'd never thought of things that way.  I just was who I was when it came to sex.  I had never thought of it as far as a role one played.

Marie turned in her car seat so her body was twisted towards the door.  She folded her arms on the door sill and looked up at me with her eyes without tilting her head.
"Well, is that our issue, Sir?"
"Maybe it is, Marie," I said, "I never thought of it as being 'dominant' I just know how I am and what I like."
"Oh, do I know that!  You do like to get your way, Mr. Wilson, I've learned that.  So, may I remind you that the one time we were together, um, sexually... you bent me over and did me from behind while spanking my bottom.  Remember?"
"You make a solid point, counselor."
"Follow me to my place?  You can park in the garage right next to my car.  That way you won't have a long walk if you ever decide to leave."
I nodded and got in my van. 
Somebody else was going to have to pick up the tab at The Town Tap.

Friday, September 8, 2017

Old Weakness

Marie was a talker.  She chattered all the time I was fucking her from behind. 
"Mmmm, fuck that pussy!... ya like that, baby?... ooo do me!... yeah, smack that ass!"

The first time she stopped talking was when she squealed, moaned, gasped, and came. 

Marie's cumming triggered me to unload.  As I pulled out of her some creamy slop dripped on her leather sofa, but she apparently didn't notice as she spun around, grabbed onto my ass, bent over at the waist and took my dick into her mouth-- guzzling the last cum and then licking up pussy juice and jizz until I was squeaky clean.  Without another word she gathered up her shoes and pantyhose and scampered into the master bathroom.  I found my way to a guest bath near the front entrance to her condo and got cleaned up.

I was sitting in a comfortable chair appreciating how Marie made her pussy grab onto my cock like a hand gripping a ball bat when she reappeared in the living room looking completely put together as if nothing had happened.

"I'm sooo late getting back to the office, babe. Gotta scoot!  Do you mind walking back to your car? It's just a couple blocks over there."  She waved in the opposite direction of where I knew my car was parked.  No sense of direction apparently.  Or, maybe she didn't give a shit.

I thought for a second.

"Yeah, I mind.  But I'll walk back so you can get to your office two minutes quicker," I said.
She looked at me. To see if I was joking, I supposed. 
I wasn't.
"Oh, alright," she said, heaving a mock sigh, "I'll drop you on the way."
"No," I said, "No, you won't."

She didn't have anything to say as we went down to the parking garage.  I was silent as well.  As she was getting into her car she called out, "I'll call you, OK?"
Without turning around I said, "Sure, you've got the request line number."
As I was walking down the sidewalk I heard her tires squeal and the engine on that big ass T-Bird roar.  I noted that she shouldn't drive that fast in such a lovely residential area.

Driving back to the station I wondered what the hell that rendezvous was all about. I came to the conclusion that Marie was probably in the habit of playing fuck and run with men.  That's fine as far as it goes, I thought.  As for me, I wasn't over Marsha.  I admitted that to myself even if I never would've said anything to anybody else about it.  So some of it was "any port in a storm" from my point of view.  Still, there was no way I could see much long-term happening with Marie. I wasn't sure why, but I felt we wouldn't get along over time.

But, it would be interesting to see if she would call again.  I figured she wouldn't.  I couldn't call her even if I wanted to.  I didn't know where she worked and I didn't have her home number.  How strange, I'd been in her home and I didn't have her phone number.  In fact, I'd been in HER in her home and didn't know how to get her on the phone.

 Nearly two weeks had gone by when I answered the request line just after noon.
"W___," I said.
"Remember me?" Marie said.
Her voice nailed me again.
"Hi Marie.  How have you been?"
"Lonely," she said.
I laughed, "I doubt that."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"You seem like someone who has lots of friends, lots of work, and not much lonely time," I said.
"Well, that's true, I guess.  But I'm lonely for you, Wil"
"You don't even know me, Marie.  Hang on, I have to do some spots."
I did an ad break that ran two minutes and then intro'd a record.

This time Marie didn't hang up.
"Why did you get so mad at me that afternoon, Wil?"
"I wasn't angry.  But, you treated me poorly,  you put getting back to the office first and I was just supposed to get lost.  I don't go for that stuff," I said.

"Can I make it up to you?"  Marie said in her most seductive voice.
"You don't need to, Marie.  But if you want us to get along better just ask me to forgive you and tell me you won't act that way again.  I have no problem with forgiving a transgression."
The seductive tone disappeared, "Hmmm, not sure I can do that."
"OK then, thanks for calling," I said.

I executed a perfect segue from ELO's Telephone Line to The Joker by Steve Miller. 
I hoped that Marie was listening.  I could have played Afternoon Delight by The Starland Vocal Band but the music director might have required mandatory counseling.

Friday, September 1, 2017

Off To See Marie

Moments after I got off the air at 2 PM I dropped in at the Program Director's office.

"I need to take care of a couple things this afternoon... I'll come back tonight and knock out those spec spots for sales, OK?"
"Yeah sure, no problem," he said, "good show today."
"Thanks," I said as I started to leave.
"Kinda lost some energy in the last hour but, otherwise, good."
"Yeah, I thought so too.  Sorry the audience noticed though," I said.
He shrugged.  "The last hour of an air shift is the toughest.  You'll get it."
I nodded and headed to the parking lot.
"Dammit, this Marie chick is already messing up my work, " I  said to myself.

I didn't need to get to the soda fountain rendezvous until 3:30 so I zipped home and took a quick shower and put on a pair of pants that weren't jeans and a shirt that had buttons down the front like adults wear.  I wiped the dust off a pair of dress shoes and found a belt that matched.  The image in the mirror was presentable.

There was still time before I needed to leave.  I ran a million things through my head as  I sat there. The general subject was me and women.  Why was I even meeting this woman?  Was it a reaction to, let's face it, being dumped by Marsha?  Was I used as a stepping stone by Marsha or did she dump me because... something else?  Hey! What's this Marie's angle?  Are all women users?  Am I an asshole? What am I looking for?  That last question was simple yet complex.


I drove over to the Manor Theater area and as I went by on ______ Road I saw the drug store.  I drove a bit farther and then made three consecutive lefts through a spectacularly beautiful neighborhood that brought me to the parking lot in front of the drug store.  I found a slot and as I walked to the front door just before 3:30 I tried to guess which car the female lawyer was driving-- assuming she was on time for our meeting.  My guess was the fairly new T-Bird.

The soda fountain was at the back of the quaint drug store. Even in the 70s having a lunch counter was a retro thing.  As such, it was very cool.  There were about a half dozen stools at the counter.
They were those fixed pedestal ones with a round seat on top that could spin.  There was an old guy drinking a cup of coffee sitting at the left end of the counter and a woman sitting at the other end.

I had just cleared the row of hot water bottles, canes, and trusses when the woman slowly spun counter clockwise a bit and looked straight at me.  She was a plump woman with olive skin and jet black hair well-styled and about shoulder length.  She was wearing a black skirt and a splashy print top with red the predominate color. Everything fit her plump frame tightly.  Her breasts were large and her hips wide.  Her waist was cinched by a wide black leather belt.  She had on black heels.  Her left shoe was hooked on the foot rest ring on the pedestal of the stool and her right leg was crossed over giving a great leg show.  She had a white Styrofoam cup in her hand and her bright red lips were wrapped around a white straw.  She looked at me and continued to suck on the straw.
"Marie?" I said.
She opened her lips, moved the cup away and said, "You must be Wil."
Between hearing that husky, accented voice, and seeing the red lipstick ring on the straw I felt my cock twitch to life.

I sat down and we began  a conversation over cherry Cokes.  I felt we had been talking for about ten minutes when Marie pointed out that it was already after 4.  She said she needed to get back to the office.  I said that I too needed to go back to work.

I walked her to her car, the T-bird as I had suspected.  We talked a bit more standing next to the car and then Marie said,
"So, what do you think?  Dinner some night soon?"
"Oh, did I pass the test?" I said.
She laughed that sweet, lilting laugh of hers.  "Oh yeah, Wil, you passed."
"Good.  I'm glad to hear that.  Honestly, Marie, with my schedule I don't do much dating."
She frowned.
"Does that mean you don't want to go out with me?"
"I'm not saying that. Just..."
"Because I'm not a skinny little thing?"
"No!  Believe me, that isn't what I'm saying. You're..."
"OK, so why not go out?"

"All I said, Marie, was that I don't date much.  It's hard for me to get more than an hour clear to do anything. But, I'd love to spend time with you.  And, by the way, I love women with curves.  Lots of men do.  You know that, I'm sure, with the way you look guys must hit on you all the time."
"Well, I wouldn't say that, but, so, um, let's see you want to spend some time together... but you might only have an hour or two... well, what do you recommend that we do together, Wil?"

Her question hung there.

After taking a couple beats trying to determine what she was implying I said,
"Well, Marie, I get phone calls all the time, like every other guy on the radio, from women.  I never, ever, meet them no matter what they say to me.  But, your voice just got to me.  So, I showed up here even though I thought it was probably a crazy thing to do.  But, then I got here and I see this knockout woman behind that voice. And well..."

"Wil, I have a small condo a few blocks from here.  I can take another hour off from work, what about you?"

Ten minutes later Marie's tight black skirt was pushed up over her fine round ass.  Her pantyhose and shoes were thrown across the room and she was bent over with her hands on the leather couch in her living room.  I was right behind her, burying my cock in her surprisingly tight snatch.

Friday, August 25, 2017

On The Radio

Before I write about Becky...

From the first days I was on the radio I would get calls from interesting people.  I got calls from guys who would correct my pronunciation of someone's name-- sometimes incorrectly, by the way.  I would get calls from people who would help me with the peculiar local place names. Often these callers were kind, sometimes less so.  Others would call to argue about innocuous things, things upon which I had offered no opinion.  It's hard to believe these days but back then you could be on the radio successfully without offering an opinion on anything-- controversial or otherwise.

I also got calls from women.  When I worked out west at those small stations where more cows and sheep were in my listening area than people I would get some calls from women.  Most of them just wanted to talk to the voice on the radio. Some wanted to meet.  Some gave off a dangerous vibe.  Most wanted me to read the lunch menu for the local school.

Later, when I was doing overnights in a bigger market with a signal that covered several states after sunset I would get calls from people working the night shift, insomniacs, and lonely people.  The oddest of those was a woman who would call every night and try to keep me on the phone.  One night I was trying to get her off the phone politely when she said, "I'm always in the same place when I call you."  I didn't say anything.  "Don't you wanna know where?" she said.
I muttered an OK.
"I'm always sitting on the toilet.  I put my radio on the tank lid so you're right behind me."
"Well, I'm sorry I make you want to, ya know, take a dump," I said.
"Ha! That's not what I'm doing, naked, on the toilet. I get soooo wetttt!"
"Records over, gotta run!"
I hung up and she never called back.  At least not without doctoring her voice.

When I moved to mid-days on that same station almost all of my calls came from women.  I was on the air from 10 AM to 2 PM and our target demo for that day part was stay-at-home moms.  Once they got the kids off to school many of them, apparently, had time on their hands.  Remember, there was no Internet and most people only had 4 TV channels but I was always there M-F, 10 to 2.  I'm pretty sure I couldn't have competed with downloadable porn for their attention.  Thankfully I never had to.

I had been doing mid-days for about a month when I got a call from a woman with a terrific voice. She sounded like a young Suzanne Pleshette with just a hint of the local accent.  It was like she was forming her words with warm Tupelo honey.  There is a "truth" in broadcasting and that is that when you hear a caller like that you think you want to meet her but you don't.  You really, really don't.  I knew that and I believed it to be true.  Still, she had such a great voice and she never wanted to hang on the phone forever like most of the lonely / stalker callers.

Her name was Marie and I noticed her calls always came between noon and 1 PM. One day when she called me in the studio I said, "You must not be busy today."
"I'm very busy.  I just like to chat with you when I take my break."
Admittedly, I pictured her doing housework. (Hey, it was the 70s, give me a break.)
"What are you busy with today, Marie?"
"Well, I'm working on a case I can't talk about."
After a pause she added,  "I'm a lawyer, Wil."
"Ah, I make it a habit to stay away from lawyers," I said.
"Oooo, that's too bad!  I'm really a very nice person...who just happens to be a lawyer," Marie said.

We talked a bit more and then she said she needed to get back to her work.  Of course I was actually at work myself and these conversations often got pretty disjointed as I would put her on hold to talk on-air, cue records, fire spot carts, and so on.  But I always enjoyed talking with Marie and, on those days when she didn't call, I noticed.

One day when Marie called she seemed less relaxed than usual.  After a few of our usual pleasantries Marie said, "Wil, I know you have a very busy life but you must take time to eat dinner.  How about we go out for dinner some night?"
"Can you hold on a second?  I've gotta do a spot break," I said, and put her on hold without waiting for a reply.  At some point during the break I noticed the blinking light on her line went out.

A week went by and Marie didn't call.  First I felt badly about having to put her on hold.  Next I decided that she had to understand that I couldn't have dead air on the station while planning a date with her.  Finally I decided that she must be just another flaky caller, probably a real mess, and that I was lucky that fate stepped in and disconnected our conversation before something stupid happened. Good riddance!

When Marie did finally call me again I immediately went back to my first position, the one where I felt bad about putting her on hold.

"Miss me, hon?" she said.
"Of course!" I said, "Now where were we in our last conversation anyway?"
She laughed a lilting laugh that was very close to perfect.
"Wellllllll, I had just gotten up the courage to ask you out to dinner.  And you hung up on me."
"That isn't my recollection.  Not at all.  I believe I put your call on hold, to do my job, and when I returned to your blinking line it was no longer blinking.  To wit, counselor, the party of the first part, aka Caller Marie line 5, hung up on the party of the second part, hereafter known as disc jerky."
"I think I'll hang up now," Marie said.
"Again?" I said.
Marie harrumphed.
And then she said, "So, dinner?"
"Hmmm,  how about drinks after work?  I can be anywhere you choose at 5:30 tonight," I said.
"Can you take some time this afternoon for coffee instead?  Say, 3:30?"
"Um, yeah, I'll have to come back here afterwards... but, yeah, ok, where?"
"Cool.  Do you know where the Manor Theater is?"
"I don't have time for a movie, Marie."
"Shut up, there's a drug store two doors down from there.  They have a neat old soda fountain in there.  That would work."
"That's a pretty ritzy part of town, Marie.  I hope nobody throws me out.  How will I know you?"
"I'll be the only one in the place that looks like a lawyer.  See you at 3:30!"

She hung up.

Dread swept over me.
I immediately thought it would have been better to just be phone pals with Marie.
Getting together was a big mistake.

At least it was just coffee in the middle of the afternoon.

That afternoon!  

Wednesday, July 26, 2017

Janelle, Back to Marsha, here comes Becky

My trip to the mountains wasn't anything like I had imagined it would be.  On the drive up I had only hoped to get away from the pressure for a few days.  When Janelle recognized me I didn't know it was the beginning of a diverting, sexually-charged, long weekend.

But even a long weekend comes to an end.  Our final night together didn't call for anything exotic. Instead we went with low, slow, intense, and loving.  That worked pretty well.

On the drive back down out of the blue mountains I tried to make sense of it.

I never did.  Still haven't.

Janelle and I got together two more times in her mountain town last year.  The second time I felt a distance.  I could tell she'd found someone else to play with-- I was right.  We stay in touch but I haven't seen her since.  Who knows what will happen?


When I went off on this tangent many months ago I broke away from telling the story of my time with Marsha way back in the late 70s.  There wasn't much more to tell.  I'll preface this last bit about her by saying I hold no animus towards Marsha.  I wasn't angry with her then and I have only fond memories of her today.  So, here's how that all ended...

To get back up to speed, Marsha was a student at the broadcasting school and I was doing overnights on a big station in the market and working a few hours a week at the school. The Program Director at my station had been assigning me more and more spots-- radio commercials-- to voice. Someone else would write the copy but I'd do the voice work and production.  I was cool with it even though they didn't bump my pay much.  After all, it made my voice recognizable in all day parts on the station and I figured that wouldn't hurt my career.

So, one day they had a spot, as I recall it was for a heating and air conditioning company, and they needed a female voice to play the part of my character's wife.  I suggested Marsha for it. I thought she would be good because I'd worked with her in the studio at the school and knew she could perform in a soft voice with a slight Southern feel that was warm without being overtly sexy. She was delirious with excitement just for the chance.

My boss allowed me to cut it in the production studio after hours with Marsha on spec and leave it for his approval. If approved the station would pay her a talent fee.  No promise was made beyond that, but we both thought that if we did well she could get more work in town for radio ads or, maybe, we would do more spots for the client as a team.  (I wasn't allowed by contract to cut ads that only aired on other stations.)  If I had been doing the ad by myself I could have knocked it out in less than 30 minutes but together we spent over 2 hours getting it just right.  The key was making it sound like the natural conversation of two young married people not two people reading copy.

When we finished our work we went out for something to eat before I had to go back to the station for my shift.  Marsha was giddy with the rush of cutting a spot that might be heard by tens of thousands of people.  I cautioned her that the client still needed to approve our spot and she acknowledged as much but her excitement wouldn't be tamped down.  It was fun seeing her reaction to the work we had done.  And she was determined to show me her appreciation for the opportunity. That amounted to a hand job in a shopping center parking lot.  I remember her wiping my cum off the back of her hand with a Wendy's napkin--  I truly was Captain Romance.  I hoped that was just a warm up act for what would surely come my way the next time I got her up to my apartment.

As for the ad, the PD loved it.  The sales manager and sales rep loved it.  And, most importantly, the client OK'd it. And it went on the air.  I told Marsha when it would first run and she and her mom listened to the station that afternoon and were, reportedly, ecstatic when they heard it.  Since our ad had run Marsha was owed her talent fee of $25 -- about $100 in today's money. Rather than giving me the check our PD asked for me to have Marsha call his office to arrange a time to come pick up her payment.  Nobody in station management had even met her so it made sense someone should meet her, especially since the client and station were both getting a positive reaction to the ad.

Marsha was nervous about going in to see the Program Director.  I told her not to worry, he might just leave the check with his secretary, don't overthink it, besides he's friendly.  To which she replied, "What am I going to wear?"

She went to the station on a mid-week morning.  Since I worked overnights I didn't get up until 2 or 3 in the afternoon.  Marsha knew that and wouldn't normally call my apartment until 4 or so if she needed to talk to me.  Around 3PM my phone rang.  I figured it was Marsha, excited about her check. It was the station Program Director instead.

"Wilson," he said.
"Oh, hey, what's up Russ?"
"That chick, Marsha, came by for her check this morning."
"Oh, cool, good," I said.
"Yeah, I talked to her for a few minutes.  What's her story?"
"Well, um, you mean her background?"
Russ grunted an affirmitive sound.
"Well, her dad owns a construction business down in ________, they're pretty well off, she graduated from college last year and then decided to go to the broadcasting school here, she thinks she wants to work in TV or radio, I know her fairly well from over there..."

"You nailin' that?"
"Uh, wellll, we've gone out a few times..."
"Yeah. That's what I thought.  Smart guy, I applaud you. If you had brought her in here first I wouldn't have let you cut the spot with her.  I would've figured you were just trying to get in her pants. Can't blame you there, pal, poised, well-spoken, and very pretty too. Dresses like she's got dough.  But, hell, she did a decent job on the spot.  We may have you two do more ads together for those guys."
"Oh, hey, that would be great," I said.
"Don't worry Wil. I won't put her on payroll. Ya won't have to worry about our rules against swimming in the company pool," Russ the PD said.
I mustered a slight chuckle.

"Oh, one other thing about her.  I'm thinking of telling Stan on the TV side about her. He'd probably want to do a video test on her.  Ya know, have her read some copy, do some ad lib like a reporter on the scene sorta thing.  You don't mind do you?"
I paused for a second before responding which I'm sure Russ noted.
"No, of course not. That makes sense."
"Cool.  Ya know, a face and rack like that should be on TV not radio," Russ said.
I made some sort of noise that probably sounded like a faint chuckle to him.
"Hey, one last thing Wilson.  I'm moving you to mid-days, 10-2 next week.  Do NOT tell anybody! Jim doesn't know he's out yet.  So, keep it between us. OK?"
"Sure, oh, and thanks," I said.
"Hey, don't even tell that sweet piece about it, you dog."

My mind was spinning.  I was happy to be moving to mid-days but sad that Jim was gettin' fired.
I realized I didn't even know if I was getting a raise.  And then, what about Marsha?  Russ was a lech but harmless. Stan, on the other hand, was not harmless.  Which, it dawned on me, was why Russ had asked if it was OK with me.  What was I going to say?  I'm not her manager.

The phone rang again. Still not Marsha.  It was a friend from the sales crew at the station.  He was barely speaking loud enough to hear, "Hey, Wil, Congrats!"  He sounded likee we were part of a conspiracy.  "About what, Mike?"
"Like you don't know!"
"I'm pretty sure I don't," I said.
"Well, I have sources in the building that tell me you. my friend, are moving to mid-days next week."
"That's crazy! Jim's last book was good."
"Not good enough.  You'll be in that hot seat talking to the housewives for four hours soon, Willie," Mike said.
"I doubt it."
"You'll see.  Hey, that spot where the doll asks you to get a new air conditioner for your love nest. That's good.  Why don't you do hot work like that for my clients?"
"You complaining Mike?  Have Jim cut your shit."
"Ha, good one!  You know!  I know you know!  Hey, was the doll from those spots in the building this morning?"
"She was supposed to go in and get her pay for that job today, yes, but I don't know if she did," I said.
"Dorothy Hamill with big knockers and a sweet ass?"
"Crude, but that's about right," I said.
"Yeah, I saw her leaving when I was coming in around 10. Tight dress and heels to the sky.  Believe me, I'll be thinking of her tonight, know what I mean?"
"Yeah. Thanks for the unconfirmed rumors, Mike.  You need to get your nose out of the stroke mags and find a nice girl to date."
"Hey, like Kojak says, 'Who loves ya baby!'"
I hung up as he cackled.

Two weeks later I was doing mid-days on the radio side and Marsha was working in the promotion department and doing weekend on-camera reporting on the TV side.  The rumor around the building was that she was "dating" Stan.  All I knew for sure is that she wasn't dating me any more.

A couple months later she was the new weather girl on the 6PM news.
Later, when I moved out of the market, I lost track of the career of Marsha H.

Luckily, right after I started doing the mid-day trick I ran into Becky, a new student at the school.