One guy was screaming while a second was waving around what looked like a Beretta 9mm. The third person looked like a woman. Both she and the second g...uy had red eyes under their masks.The second guy was screaming and yelling for us to get down and the way he and the woman were acting, they didn’t look all that stable. The first guy kicked open the swinging door to get behind the counter and I knew that everything was about to turn to shit. The electronic lock on the door had probably just sent. I was entranced. She hooked them to the garter belt, then stood so her skirt could fall into place. Alas, her stockings were not designed for use with a skirt that short. While their lace hems were pretty and her exposed golden skin lovely, she looked, as a maiden aunt relative liked to say, “sent for and couldn’t go.”Hoping against hope, she sat and wiggled, hoping that the lengths somehow would reconcile. Her movements were delightful to watch but didn’t solve the problem. the lacy stocking. Bums. At the rear, looking coy was, the old man with the bucket. He looked timid as if still hurt from her outburst. Behind him the two whores had crossed the road and were watching quietly. Their gaze seemed the most hostile of all. Finally, her eyes rested on the red sports car. It had mounted the debris and sat completely off the road. All bashed in the front it wasn't going anywhere. Steam was rising slowly from under the hood. Slowly Sarah got to her feet, her shoes scratching on the road.. I’m a nerd, too. You know I’m on scholarships for sport and for grades. I’ve never driven a tractor but my old car is a stick shift.“How did you get named Agnes?”She gave a little grimace. “It is different, isn’t it?” I nodded. “I’m named for my paternal grandmother. She died before I could really remember anything about her though my parents say she was proud to have me named after her. I have two younger brothers who have more normal names. From everything I’ve been told, she was a real ball.