“I’m leaving now,” our receptionist chirped on her way past my office. “Have a good night!” She paused for a moment, before adding, “Damn, I have to stop and get stockings.”
“Like, stockings to hang by the chimney with care in hopes that Saint Nicolas soon will be there?” I asked.
“Ummm, no,” she replied, giving me an odd look. “Like, stockings to wear when I go out to dinner with my friends tonight.”