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It began as a joke between my parents. When Pa went out, my mother used to joke that he was off to meet his floozie. In return, he would talk about her fancy man when she went out with her friends. I wasn't sure what floozie was at first, so I looked it up in Pa's thesaurus. It was under 952 – Libertine and appeared in two subsections. It was in the loose woman category, spelt F L O O Z Y, alongside flirt, wench, hussy, nymphet and sex kitten. As time |
It was also in the kept woman category, spelt F L O O Z I E, alongside mistress, bit on the side, concubine and moll. As my brother and I got older, I started to join in the game, especially if Pa had to take a rare trip into the office – he worked mostly from home – and would not be at home to read to us in the evening. "Oh Paaa," I would say, dragging out the sound of the vowel, "do you really prefer your floozie to reading to us?"
went by, the floozies multiplied and gained characteristics. There was the blonde down the road; the brunette at the gym; the Chinese woman with whom he practiced speaking Mandarin; and worst of all, the one who had a child, which meant I had to share my Pa with other children - it was bad enough sharing with my brother. She came later though. She came after the phone.|
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