15. An Assortment of Questionable Escapades

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Dawn was welcomed with a bright clear sky. The grandfather clock in the center of town struck eight o'clock with the redolent ringing of bells. The bustling passerby rushed to their jobs, not batting an eye at one another.

"Are you sure about this?" you whispered to Willy. Not only was this already illegal, but hiding in a bush didn't help your conscience either. Add to that the fact that Willy made you dress up in a waitress's uniform you'd found in the laundry, and the combination was just about perfect for a lawsuit.

"Ninety-seven percent positive, just wait," he muttered, eyes straight ahead.

You followed his gaze to a flower shop, "Why are we hiding anyway?"

"You'll see." He didn't pay much attention to your questions, focusing on the scene in front of him. You followed suit.

A cable car whizzed by before a man walked up to the storefront. He kneeled down in front of a woman, pulling out a box. You expected him to flick it open and recite a heartfelt declaration, but all that spluttered out from his mouth was some nonsense. Eventually, he got to the point, "I guess what I'm trying to say, Barbara, is, um, will you marry me?"

The redheaded woman looked the slightest bit disappointed, "Oh, I dunno, Colin. You're a lovely man, but I'm looking for someone to sweep me off my feet, you know? Whisk me off to a life of adventure. Could that be you?" While you thought the woman—Barbara, was being a bit blunt, you couldn't help but forgive her for her desires, especially with the fact that she was giving him a chance.

His response was almost automatic, "No."

"Oh—"

He put the ring away, "Not with my chronic lack of self-confidence. Uh, I best be off."

"Oh, but Colin..." she called after him. You felt bad for both of them. It seemed Barbara genuinely wanted it to work out.

"Sorry to have wasted your time, Barbara," he quickly stepped away and off into the street, "Uh, taxi!" A motor car drove right by him, splashing a comically large amount of water over Colin.

"Come on, darling," Willy pulled you out from behind the stand of flowers. The two of you—mostly him—avoided the gaze of the policeman stationed around the atrium. He led you into a restaurant. "Join me as soon as I get Colin's attention, alright?"

"Mm-hmm," he gave you his hat after pulling out the jar. You passed him two cookies which he set on a nearby plate and got straight to action.

Watching carefully, he approached the saddened slump that was Colin. "Uh, monsieur, can I help you?" Why was his French so good?

Colin sat up, but spoke sorrowfully nonetheless, "Oh, waiter, do you have anything for a broken heart?"

You walked up to the two, "In fact, we do," you whispered.

Willy smirked at you, looking around before bursting into song,

"So the taxis never stop,
the girls think you're a flop."

He encircled the befuddled man, using his handkerchief to pat his wet suit down.

"You're wet and cold,
you're getting old.
Your confidence is shot!"

"It's true," Colin responded.

"When people look at you—"

Willy quickly imitated an old man beaten down by life.

"—they seem to look straight through.
Or like you're something brown they found
upon the bottom of their shoe."

He laid the towel down, before Colin inquired, "Have you been following me?" Yes.

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