I might never deposit this check

Monday deteriorated into a day when I knew I would get nothing truly useful done. I did what I do best, after answering the morning mail bag, I went for a long hike around the lake. I tucked all my hair up underneath my hat, slammed down some aviator shades, and disappeared down the hike and bike trail — it backs up onto the Shady Acres Trailer Park. When I got back, some hours later, I stopped by neighbor’s trailer to see what he was up to. As I bounced into his single wide, he grabbed the remote and quickly shuffled the channel on the TV to Truck Racing. But not before I had a chance to see what he was watching — soaps. “Got to catch up on my stories, you know,” he sheepishly suggested. Monday evening was a another Virgo experience — I’m sensing a pattern here — dinner at Guero’s. I’m still searching for the connection between Guero’s and Virgo’s; although, I believe further research is indicated. I put the meal on one of my charge cards, and my Virgo friend gave me check to pay for her portion. Now I’m embarrassed, I might never deposit this check. Down in the memo section on the check where it says “For:” she printed out “GOOD SEX.” I’m not worried about the good sex comment, I’m worried that the bank will think I’m cheap, it was only $20.