"Hey, what's up?" I asked, trying to be friendly while thinking of the beer I'd just cracked open. Marge was pretty at some point in her life, I was sure of it. Now she was just used. At thirty-three the best years of her life were gone. She worked two jobs to support her son, Matt and herself. The day job was a respectable waitress at the local coffee shop. Her night job, much more lucrative, was as a stripper at the "Little Red Barn" men's club down the road. I'd been there one night when she was dancing and I'm still not sure which of us was more embarrassed. We never said anything about it, but the recognition in her eyes as she turned from gyrating her ass to her pussy in my face was unmistakable.

"Uhm, hey, uh," she stammered leaning her weight from one foot to the other in a nervous fidget. That was the other thing about Marge - I rarely saw her sober. Even tonight I could smell a whiff of gin on her breath.

"Come on in, what's up?" I said, waving my arm grandly as if I was inviting her into a palace instead of my 3-room apartment.

"Uhm, I was wondering," she stammered, then paused, "Well, you know that I work nights..." she turned a deep crimson color when she remembered that I knew what she did during those nights. "And well, the baby sitter is sick and I don't have any place to take Matt tonight. I was, well, wondering if you'd watch him for me?" The last sentence was said with an upward lilt in tone - more a pleading then a question.

I hesitated, for I do not like being pushed like this. "I'll pay you!" she blurted out quickly.

I laughed. I make more money in a day than this lady makes in two weeks. Oh what the Hell, I thought to myself, I can be a nice guy now and then. "Yeah, sure, bring him on over. Why don't you have him stay over, it'll be easier than waking me up at 4 in the morning to get him, okay?"

She looked down at the floor and turned an even deeper shade of red (although I wouldn't have bet that was possible) and nodded.

"Have him bring a sleeping bag and pillow or something, okay?" I called out after her as she scurried down the hall. "And for Christ sakes, don't forget his toothbrush!" She waved over her shoulder and disappeared into her apartment, reminding me of a rabbit scurrying into its wren.

I closed the door to my apartment and grabbed my beer, finishing it in one long draw. "Fuck!" I said to myself, already regretting my decision to watch the young boy. I didn't know what to do with a little boy! Now, if it was a young girl I had some ideas.......(cont)