“It’s not even worth all that, really. Don’t worry about it.”
“You got anything else that needs dry cleaning? I could at least give you my guy’s name—he’s really good.”
I laughed. “Maybe write it on one of those napkins?”
“I will.” And she was doing so, when a slightly younger woman approached her and tapped her on the shoulder. When my cola assailant turned to look at her, she set down her pen, and a short sign language exchange ensued, which ended with the younger woman making an effort to catch my eye and express her dismay at the state of my sweater.
“It’s fine,” I said with a smile. Still…the sign she offered me seemed to say. She moved both hands in a quick burst, and encouraged her sister to laugh along with her.
“She says, ‘My sister’s a klutz,’” the woman in the wig translate
