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   Continued
| Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | 
       Sweater Boy labors solely for the chance of someday finding a giant sweater. Miles of knitted landscape with those little fuzz balls under the armpits, perhaps some snagging on the neckline where a pendant swung against the yarn. Or, hope of hopes, the tell-tale stretching where a mighty bosom bulged against the fibers. 
PICTURE GOES HERE
     With intuition sharpened by years of yearning, Sweater Boy instantly recognizes the YoYo Women who diet downward then indulged upward. Their sweaters are masterpieces, bought in the spirit of optimism only to balloon outward in full distortion of the fibers. Such ample magnificence. Such expansion of the outward form. 
       Look over there! Madeline Suggs struts up Literacy Boulevard, hips swinging, smile wide, and a sweater tossed casually over her shoulders. A legitimate date, she thinks, imagine that. Although not a regular bus rider herself, Madeline waves at a few familiar passengers boarding the Number Two. 
      Suddenly, up pops a most interesting gentleman. He bows and begins: "Madam, I wash sweaters." His exuberance touches her, and the sun is warm, so Madeline hands over her favorite baby blue cashmere sweater. 
      You've never seen so much glee. Oh, the expression on Sweater Boy's face. More than astonishment, somewhere past even rapture. Thank goodness he had enrolled in that email course on Business Etiquette through the Brunnersville Telecommuting Technical College. Only training of that caliber could bring back his composure. 
      Sweater Boy removes a blue plastic bag from his attache case -- complementary shade to the sweater, a very good sign. He folds the sweater with love and slips it inside the bag. Then he squats on the sidewalk for a leg-cramping long time to handprint the receipt on a scrap of paper, conveniently retrieved from the trash bin. 
      That receipt, however, contains minimal worth. For Madeline will never see her sweater again. No lady ever has. If asked, Sweater Boy will describe the complexities of washing and rinsing and washing again. But the sweaters remain in a state of perpetual adoration, never again on the ladies themselves. 
 

 
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Ask SweaterBoy for laundry tips
 Go directly to Mail Box 3
 Visit the West Brunnersville Bus Transit Center. 
Who the heck wrote this thing?