After a long and tiring day, I step outside with my industrial strength broom. I clearly mean business. I start to sweep, and a guy one block away says: GUY: Hi, how are you doing? (I HEAR "doing" I think he might have actually said "doin'") ME: Good, how are you? GUY: Good, come over ME: I am sweeping GUY: Girl, why don't you just come over so I can check you out? ME: Hand on hip, holding broom upright. I have clearly stopped sweeping. BECAUSE I AM SWEEPING. [END OF NOVEL]
These are the meandering thoughts of a smart and competent woman.