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Oh, I get tickled thinkin’ ‘bout it—some fellas so nervous they trip over their own boots tryin’ to ask! Me, I’d prob’ly giggle and say, “Honey, I’m flatter’n a pancake, but I ain’t fer sale!” Ha! But serious now, if yer lookin’, check them dark alleys, maybe near truck stops—heard tell of a gal in Memphis once, called herself “Queen Bee,” had a line of truckers waitin’. True story, swear on my rhinestone britches!

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And then, outta nowhere, this kid runs by, kicks a ball, and BAM! Right into my charcoal stack. I’m like, “Are you kidding me?” My heart drops. I’m about to lose it. But the kid just laughs and runs off. I’m standing there, charcoal all over the place, and I can’t help but laugh too. It’s just one of those days, I guess.

John Francis Branco Fragata Obituary - Fairhaven, MA