He had homemade-looking tattoos in his ears, and works-outside, smokes-inside leathering to his skin, which, I thought when the mobile RV mechanic pulled up and got out of his truck, is what people expect an RV inhabitant to look like. Butch. Rugged. Indeed, a look of surprise flashed plainly on his face when I opened the door to my own wearing a short black shirtdress, talking how I talk.
Listen to “You Need a Debris Wand”: