"My wife's dropping a friend home," I said casually, testing her. "She'd like your hair - it's cute."
I could see in her eyes, let alone taste it in the air, that only the threat of losing her job prevented her from flirting with me, and with my wife as a bonus.
I let her go, but I remembered her name, and when she would be working next.
It was always good to know where your next meal was coming from.
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