The butcher stared at the back of the attractive woman who so boldly handed him a note saying to call him.

He was a beefy man, not use to the attentions of beautiful women. A shy man really.

He thought about dropping his meat on the counter and running after her, but he froze in place as his boss came up to him and said, ” Marty, what the heck are you staring at, get back to work, I don’t pay you to stand idley about like a Mayan statue.”

At home Marty stared at the note, that smelled of perfume, not the kind his mother always used, but a more fragrant smell. He inhaled the note.

Picking up the phone , he started to dial. He hesitated.
He picked up the phone again, as his mother walked in carry a sack.

“Marty, come help me with this sack, you big lumox, can’t you see I’m having a struggle here?”

“Sorry mother, let me get that for you mother,” he said as he took the sack from her, dropping the note onto the floor.

“What’s this?,” his mother said suspiciously. “Oh, no not again, not anther hussy.”