A few days ago, at work, a female coworker (FC) came up to me to get more change for her register. I’d guess she’s in her 50s but I think her smoking has played a part in her looks. For all I know, she could be 36 but her face is a spiderweb of wrinkles underneath a dull gray bob of hair. Her bright blue eyes are bloodshot inside a ring of thick clumped mascara. She always smells of coffee and cigarettes, which probably contributes to her brown teeth. She’s also from Arizona so she’s not a stuffy Southern prude so I know I can have fun with her.
FC: “So, I bought some men’s sleep pants the other day.”
me: “Oh yeah?”
FC: “Yeah.” She waved her hands over her crotch.
FC: “Well, I forgot about that front flap. I’ll have to sew that up. It’s chilly.”
me: “Oh, yeah. A little breezy there?”
me: “Chapped lips?”