Wednesday

It was a warm spring day in January, the kind of day you don’t want to waste indoors. But Miss B had said we would train either at 4 or 8. She had a class at 6 so 4 was much more convenient for her. Panties was tempted to half-tell the truth and get her to come at 8, but she felt a genuine want to prioritize Miss B’s best interests and not take advantage of her genial generosity. (Surf Barbie threatens to tell her how it is so in her power just to command). But Panties believes Miss B chooses not to maybe not because she doesn’t think Panties is ready and willing (“she is,” chirps Surf Barbie), but more because she is not by nature a pushy or mean-spirited person. Dangerous yes, but really a very nice girl. She is never bitchy or unreasonable. She might be tired or sad, but never without explanation. So with a warm breeze entering the room and the sun shining outside, Panties knelt at the door to kiss both soles of Miss B’s boots and barked happily as she came in. Panties served her water (with a slice of lime) and later ice cream with little squares of chocolate. Miss B spoke of, among other things, a house she was looking to buy. She intends to find a place where Panties can be her full time maid, living either in the basement, or some minimal closet space. “Do you have any moral objections to repossessed houses?” she asked. She plans a household of one or two of her girl friends or any girl who might want to split the finances (and have all her laundry, ironing, cooking, etc. done by Panties. It’s going to happen. Around 5:30 she was ready to leave. The door flashed open, Panties, on her knees caught a glimpse of her calm, adored face. “Panties loves you,” said Panties. “I know,” she said, and was gone.