I wondered each time a pair of eyes met mine, if I was recognizable. Were they saying to themselves, "there goes the freak I saw in panties and fake t...ts, stretched out in a store window"?But I never found recognition, and I never found that window.Months later, with my tan lines all but gone, all I had left was that pair of panties tucked away in the back corner of my dresser drawer to convince me that I wasn't insane - those pretty panties and the enduring feeling of emptiness. My social life. The deputy, looked a bit nervous, and quickly replied,Sorry, but Mr. Polton, has to go; it's, well, it's, just that we really need to get back before dark.I told The Boss, I'd talk to his dad, and give him the info.The Baboso, nodded, and made his way from the courtroom, and back to the prison bus.Part 6: Hit the meat grinder runnin'.I found out from the boss's father, who was dealing the Vietnamese Dust to Mrs. Polton; Harry Singato. A half black, half italian, bar owner, and 3rd in charge of. More

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