I’m sorta apprehensive today because after work the girls are coming over to rummage through my wardrobe and toss all the “cheap” stuff. I thought about making a list of what might qualify as cheap, but it was easier to write down what didn’t.

It filled up an entire post-it note.

Damn, we’d better go shopping afterward or I’ll have an empty closet.

I can only imagine what they’ll make me buy. It will be the fashion version of being forced to eat Lima beans.

Anyway, right now I’m not dealing with clothing or vegetables. I’m busy slicing cold cuts during the Monday lunch rush at the deli with my back to the customers while my sister Connie takes orders. And that’s when I hear the whisper.

“Will you look at the ass on that girl? She’s a true lobster. All the best stuff is in the tail.”

Now in the past I might have taken this “compliment” and waited to check out the man who “gave” it to see if he was doable. Now? I’ve really had it with this kind of guy. Like the light bulb above my head turned on and I realize I don’t need this garbage. My grip on the slicer handle tightens as my eyes slowly narrow a bit. Maybe if I ignore him he’ll place an order and go away.

“She’s got a smokin’ hot body. I’ll bet she was what the songwriter had in mind when he wrote Brickhouse.”

Okay, that’s it.

I whip my head around to see the identity of my not-so-secret admirer, a slightly built construction worker with shaggy brown hair and a few scraggly whiskers on his cheeks wearing a ripped tee shirt and old torn jeans. He might be twenty years old. He shoots a greasy smile at me while the other hard hats in the group obviously note my growing death stare and back up a step. I move to the counter and tell my sister to do the slicing for a while, then lock eyes with the kid. “What’ll you have?”

“To start, how about your phone number?”

“Sure. It’s one eight-hundred dream on. Operators are standin’ by.”

The construction worker next in line laughs. “Ouch, that one left a mark, Billy.”

But the kid doesn’t take the hint. “Aw, come on. What, am I not old enough? You look like a woman who wouldn’t mind dating younger guys.”

The hard hat behind him rolls his eyes. “Real smooth, kid.”

I lean forward and study his face, then shake my head. “Sorry, I only go out with men old enough to shave.”

The kid’s face turns red as the entire group laughs.

I grab a pen and pad. “Now, is there a lunch order somewhere in our future? Or did you just come in here to stare at my ass? If so, I charge by the hour.”

He looks down at the ground. “I, uh... I’ll have... corned beef on rye with mustard.”

“You want me to cut it in half? Or can you fit the whole thing in that big mouth of yours?”

The oldest of the hard hats, most likely the foreman, moves forward and grabs his shoulder. “Kid, take a seat. She’s out of your league.” My admirer turns and shuffles to a table in the corner. The older hard hat turns back to me. “Sorry, he’s new on my crew. First day. I’ll have to teach him some manners.”

“Please do.”

“But you’re pretty damn sharp.” He looks up at the menu. “Let’s see... how about... sausage and peppers for me.”

I note his thick gray hair, deep-set dark brown eyes and Roman nose. Obviously a paisan. “You got it. Hey, I haven’t seen you guys before.”

He cocks his head toward the door. “We’re gutting the building across the street. So we’ll be here for a few weeks.”

I look over his shoulder and see construction materials and a few trucks next to what was once a beautiful old brick building which was abandoned years ago. “Really? Someone finally bought that place?”

“Sort of. The city seized it since the property taxes were never paid. They sold it for a dollar with the stipulation that whoever bought it has to fix it up.”

“You know who bought it or what’s going in there?”

“No idea. The new owner had to deposit a certain amount with the city and that’s who hired us to clean it out. But it’s got a lot of potential. The place has great bones. Lots of exposed brick inside. It’ll be beautiful when we’re done.”

“Yeah, I was in there when I was a kid. I remember how nice it was. I’ll look forward to it.”

He extends his hand. “Vito Franchese.”

I shake. “A.J. Scaramucci.”

“Ah, you own the place.”

“With my siblings. Have a seat, Vito, and I’ll bring lunch over.”

I take the rest of the orders then turn to my sister. “Do me a favor and get that Chinese hot mustard I’ve got in the back room. Need to teach someone a lesson.” 

***

THE LUNCH RUSH JUST about over, I head over to the table of construction workers. “How was everything?”

Vito nods as he pats his belly. “Excellent. We’ll definitely be back.”

I note the guy who hit on me is sweating. “You doin’ okay, kid? Looks like you’re runnin’ a fever.”

“Mustard’s pretty hot. Think I need another soda.”

“Sorry, I’ll use the mild stuff for your sensitive palate next time. I’ve got a brand I use for children.”

Vito nudges him in the ribs. “Don’t you have something you wanted to say to the young lady?”

He slowly nods and looks up at me. “I, uh, I apologize for my comments earlier and how I treated you. I hope you’ll forgive me for being young and stupid and let me have lunch here again.”

“Sure, long as you exhibit the proper manners around the women. Will you promise to behave?”

“Okay.”

“The correct response is yes, ma’am. Since, ya know, I’m so much older than you.”

Now he’s blushing a bit. “Yes, ma’am.”

The rest of the group snickers. “Good boy. You’ve learned your lesson. Glad I didn’t have to bend you over my knee and give you a spanking.”

His eyes widen and he turns beet red as everyone yells, “Whoa!”

The foreman gets up, laughing. “We’ll see you tomorrow, Miss Scaramucci. I must say this is the most entertaining lunch I’ve had in a while.”

“You guys have a good day. And you can call me A.J.”

I head back behind the counter to start cleaning up. My kid sister Connie, who’s twenty-two and the very tall, slender version of me, waits for the group to leave, then leans over.

“A.J., you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, why?”

“The way you treated that guy who hit on you.”

“What about it?”

Her eyes light up a bit and I know she found him attractive. “He’d be kinda cute if you cleaned him up. Usually you’d jump on a tight little ass like that. At least for some fun.”

“I’ve changed, Connie. I’ve had enough of that type and enough fun. That’s fine for you at your age but at this point I want to be treated right. I want a guy like the ones Madison and Tish have. It’s time I raised my standards. I’m tired of guys whose idea of foreplay is yo, Scaramooch, get in the car.”

“Good God, A.J., what’s gotten into you?”

“My current long relationship. I’ve set a new record. More than a year.”

“What long relationship?”

“The one with my cat. Gypsy taught me what it’s like to be truly loved.”

***

MY FRIENDS HAVE INSISTED I stay planted on my bed and not interfere as they rummage through my wardrobe. For the past hour various items have been flying out of the closet into a giant cardboard box that is earmarked for charity. Some of the smaller items that have missed the target have become new cat toys, as Gypsy is currently having a ball playing with a bunny tail. (Old boyfriend with a Playboy fantasy.) At first I tried pleading my case to save some of the stuff but was immediately shot down by Tish, who has put on her legal hat and basically been acting as prosecutor against my clothing. And everything is guilty of being cheap. At least the stuff on the sticky note survived. (Two winter scarves and an old coat I wear when shoveling snow.)

Rory starts poking through my dresser and pulls out a bright red thong. She turns to me and twirls it around one finger while raising an eyebrow. “Really, A.J.? You find this age appropriate?”

I shrug. “I thought it would attract attention.”

“You can bounce quarters off that perfect ass of yours, you don’t need a thong for men to notice it.” She tosses it to Gypsy. “Here, kitty, knock yourself out.” The cat immediately grabs the thong, lays on her back and starts ripping it with her back claws.

“That was expensive. You should have put it in the charity box.”

Tish rolls her eyes. “Yeah, like some homeless woman needs a red thong to keep her warm during the winter.”

Madison gets a gleam in her eye as she starts opening shoe boxes. “I just thought of something funny. She could scandalize the whole neighborhood with a yard sale. I could get the network to cover it.”

I fold my arms and pout. “Youse guys are a bunch of big meanies.”

She pulls a pair of red five-inch platform heels from a box and pulls on the attached straps. “Good God, A.J., how far up your legs do these go?”

“Up to my knees.” I throw up my hands. “Fine. Put them in the box. I’ll bet the church can get some decent money from them.”

Tish stops and turns to me. “You’re not seriously going to give this stuff to your church. Where do you go to Mass, Our Lady of Ill Repute?”

Madison laughs. “We’re going to have to take this stuff out of town and leave it on some charity’s doorstep in the middle of the night.”

Rory tosses a bustier into the box. “I’m not sure any charity would want this stuff. Maybe we can find some down on their luck strippers who need a handout.”

“Very funny.”

“Hey, if you really wanna change, the cheap bimbo fall collection has to go.”

Tish emerges from the closet holding something she doesn’t recognize. “What’s this thing?”

I lower my voice a bit as my cheeks flush. “A, uh, riding crop.”

She furrows her brow. “Since when do you go horseback riding? I didn’t know you liked—” Her eyes widen as she realizes its purpose. “Oh, I get it. Giddyup.”

“There’s a good line about a whip, but I’ll be polite,” says Madison.

Rory throws up her hands. “This is hopeless. I give up.” She pulls a drawer out of the dresser, walks to the box, turns it over and dumps the entire contents inside. “Guys, let’s just stop and go shopping. At least get A.J some stuff to get her through the work week. Then we’ll get her an entire wardrobe on Saturday. It’s obvious there’s really nothing here worth saving and we’re wasting time trying to find something.”

Tish nods. “Agreed.”

My face tightens. “Nothing?”

Gypsy suddenly walks out from under the bed wearing the thong around her neck.

“What a lovely collar for a cat,” says Rory. “And that thing goes well with her coloring. You could put a leash on it and use it as a harness. Take her for a walk. Now that would attract men.”

I bury my head in my hands. “Please, make it stop.”

Madison takes my hand and pulls me off the bed. “Pretend this place caught on fire and you’re starting from scratch.  C’mon, let’s go. I can’t stand another minute in Caligula’s bedroom.”

Meanwhile, please share in this moment of silence for my old wardrobe. Long may it wave.