Babbler Excerpt No. 9

Step to the bar, ladies
Let no cups runneth over

Reprinted courtesy of The Beemer Babbler

The idiom "in her cups" has acquired special meaning for the always luscious Susan E. Beemer. The former indispensable but not worth an extra four bits an hour pharmacist's assistant for Arbor Drugs has secured a post befitting the elegance and femininity that radiate from her like Roentgens from plutonium.

"I've more or less evolved from a Marianne's girl into a Hudson's woman in the twenty years I've been married to my present husband," she explains, "so becoming a Hudson's employee seemed like the next logical step."

And the logic of assigning someone so chic to their tony lingerie department must fairly have smacked top Hudson's brass like a board in the face.

"I'm 'manning' the bra bar, as they call it, measuring bustlines and helping women tame unruly boobs with brassieres of exquisite fit," she says. "And I'm loving every minute of it and making a buck-and-a-quarter more an hour than I made at Arbor. Plus, I get a twenty-five percent discount on everything I buy!"

Standing suddenly, she hoists her mid-length rayon skirt, fawn with subtle checks of muted black, and exclaims, "I even get free panties, too—see?"

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