Dillface Donna came to the door before Walker Bugh was even out of her pajamas. Walker was surprised. Her neighbor's appearance for an exchange of the latest gossip had become an accepted intrusion. But Dillface always slept to at least high noon. Dillface worked afternoons to closing time at Red's Bar and had access to news that never even made it into the Bilton Gazette. Dillface Donna often alerted Walker to unreliable salespeople, a possible infestation of the Japanese beetle or a warning that a strange vagrant, possibly psychotic, had been seen in town.
"What happened?" asked Walker Bugh. "Why are you here in your bathrobe?"
"Couldn't sleep. My one weekend off in a dozen years was a disaster. I sure could use a cup of coffee."
"I'm on it. Take a seat. You look terrible." Walker Bugh had privately dubbed her neighbor Dillface because of her downturned mouth and eyebrows that looked as if she had just bit into a dill pickle. This morning she looked like she had just eaten a dozen.
"You look like a sour puss. Not enough action for you last night?"
"It's not that. I got the worst kind of headache."
Walker Bugh put her coffee pot to grunting and apologized to Donna exclaiming it was the noisiest appliance in the house. Her freezer purred silently, her dishwasher whirred quietly, her hot water delivered gallons of heated water without any drama that her coffee maker made for a few cups of coffee.
"What could be so terrible?"
Dillface eyed the pot as it dribbled out one reluctant cup at a time. "I got last weekend off for a class reunion."
"That's right. Your 15th."
"Yeah," said Donna as she picked imaginary lint off her robe. "It's not like the 50th when people would congratulate you if you're still alive and on two feet."
"So what was the problem?" Walker asked as she extracted two mugs of coffee from the grunting pot.
"I've gained some weight since those days when I was a cheerleader," Dillface admitted. "I went on a diet and took off five pounds, but let's face it, I'm never going to be a size seven again."
"I'm thinking your classmates weren't either."
Dillface ignored the comforting remark. "I bought one of those Spanx things. I figured with losing five pounds and with Spanx, I could at least look like a size twelve. Have you ever gotten into one of those?"
"I don't do class reunions."
"It would be a challenge to Houdini. I finally did olive oil and a lot of contortions and got myself into a size twelve."
"Good for you."
"It was hell. I felt like I was in an iron lung all evening."
"It sounds like you got the wrong size."
"That wasn't the worst of it. I had a few drinks and Dennis DuPrey, who's still unattached, was looking pretty good. I even promised him the first dance when the band started."
"That doesn't sound bad."
"I had to go to the toilet and when I unsnapped the crotch, the whole apparatus rolled up to my armpits. When I tried to pull the damn thing down, I poked a hole in it and now there was a bulge right where my flattened belly used to be. I got so frustrated that I bent the hooks trying to re-snap the crotch. By then the darn thing was so tight I could hardly breathe."
"What did you do?"
"I snuck out the back door but when I got home, I couldn't get the damn thing off, so I just went to bed." Dillface eyed her untouched coffee. "I got to pee so bad. Can you cut me out of this thing?"
Dillface Donna is certainly in a pickle!