The nail shop was overrun with customers when the pie arrived. After a mani-pedi, a 10-minute chair massage and a through drying, there was a lull in the bustle.
“How many people, Terry,” I asked.
“Six,” she replied.
“Six plus Bruce?”
“Plus me is eight.”
Eight slices on the windowsill over looking the busy corner below. And as each of the women finished with their customer they had their slice of pie.
“Don’t forget to take that one home for Bruce,” I said.
“See you next week,” the ladies chimed.