Cudney wondered how many of the dressed up old white
people trudging out of the lobby en masse were ranchers, farmers, how many were
civil service, retirees. The women drove
his ick factor needle down into bedrock.
Dressed to the nines, advertising flat rear ends, gaseous bulbous
abdomens, dyed hair, raisin-wrinkled faces.
The drapes didn't match the carpets, not here.
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