"Stay a while longer," I said. "Let's at least exchange
phone numbers and hobbies."
"No, my prince," she said, "I have to be home by
midnight."
"Why?" I asked. "Does your Tampax turn into a
pumpkin?"
I looked at her and wished, not for the first time,
that she'd never leave. She must've seen it in my eyes,
for she turned around in the hallway.
"Goodnight, parakeet dick," she said.

Elvis, Jesus & Coca Cola, Kinky Friedman
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