Zipper Down

We had our plumbing inspected today. Found out our water has a high chlorine count. That's not good, not good at all, the serviceman tells me.  Something else to worry about.

So I'm sitting at the kitchen counter, writing, when he walks in with the bill. I look up and his fly is down, way down. Oh Lordy, I thought to myself as I tried to look at him, over my glasses, stretching my neck as far as possible to meet his gaze. All I heard was "Blah, blah, blah," as he tried to upsell a water filtration system for the house.  I tried to avert my eyes higher and higher.  "Blah, blah, blah," his yellow papers flapping in the air.

Unable to bare it any longer, I look down at my check book and blurt out, "What do I owe you?" He keeps talking. I got up from the stool and promise I'll read the informational material. "You should take a look.  I see you have a baby..." I stopped short. "Oh, the tub and toys in the bathroom upstairs?  That's for my grand baby." I open the door, "You don't look old enough to be a grandmother," he replies.  I smile, craning my neck like a bird. "Thanks. You have a good day."