“What’s with the bucket?” The male customer asked
“Just sits there.” The shop owner pinged out the register and handed him his change. Her hands clicked a button under the counter. She went in back knowing the next to walk in would be the tramp and her friend.
“I wish Charles was available more,” a soft feminine voice came through the bucket in the back.
“It doesn’t matter, as long as he buys me things,” a tart voice replied. “He has a wife.”
The shop owner had her husband now. She switched the recorder off and headed to the counter.