The Tepid One, a Calendar Girl, unbeknownst to her until her friend released the printed version. She found the adoration most strange since the friend was more akin to an acquaintance than a confidant.
The Tepid One had difficulty waking up, couldn’t make it to work on time despite alarm clocks on every wall connected to every outlet within the limitations of standard power cord length for each unit. A standard measure within the industry, I suppose. She invited her neighbor to wake her… an older gentleman, though not at all a gent. Scraggled beard and unkempt hair and armpits that smelled of ripple and bar nuts. She was quite elated with the solution. I personally was a bit horrified at the thought of having some nastierthanshit dude walk into her apartment each morning. I envisioned him oogling her, The Tepid One being a beautiful buxom blonde whom, just a few years prior had breast reduction surgery (a personal point which also happened to startle most dogs).