. . I'm a-go'in ta paint on Willie's arm da badest damn tat-toooo I've ever done - jus ta make ya proud." On that she turned to leave, then wistfully...replied, "One day, Frank. One day when I'm ready."Like Wilhelmina, the weeks leading up to the performance were also busy ones for Simon. Now resolute in the task of bringing a certain masculine panache to a traditional woman's routine, he gave it his all - that is, he gave what little remained of his unique masculine self. Thanks to the. ”She had learned so much about men. It was like junkyard dogs scrapping for a bone. Being the bone gave her a certain power over them, which she retained at great cost. It was worth it.“I love it when men just have to be men,” she chuckled to herself.Junkyard dogs were the kind who knew how to howl at the moon—although their meanness could get out of control at times. Men were so predictable. At least, most of them were. Cal confused her.As she kept walking she saw the diner about a block away. More

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