Six Sentence Sunday 

Letitia took Gerry’s name and address. When she asked for his insurance card, he stood, holding the towel to his hand, and tried to reach into his pants pocket to extract his wallet but couldn’t.

“Anne, could you get into my pants?”

Anne’s eyes grew wide. “Pardon me?”

“Hell,” Letitia mumbled. “Now that is what I’d call one of them ‘offers you can’t refuse.’”