"I'm going out tonight, Reet. Bet that surprised you. The guys at the plant are taking me to some classy joint over near the state line." He had to yell to compete with the people in the next apartment. They was screaming at each other in Spanish. He'd been listening real close but he hadn't been able to pick up a 'hola' or a 'yo tengo hambre' in amongst all the yelling.
He was always sure the neighbours was killing each other when they had one of their scenes. But it turned out that was just how they communicated. They was always real lovey-dovey at the supermarket. He figured plates smashing against the walls had a different meaning wherever it was they come from.
Waldo was wearing his best shirt. It was one of them Hawaiian reversibles you didn't have to tuck into your pants. It had big mother-frigging hyacinths all over it that made him look more like a flower arrangement than a guy going out for a good time. He figured it'd help divert peoples' attention away from his weight, but it didn't.