470 Words from "Charm, Offensive," the Short Story I'm Working On. Critique Away.

All goes well until about ten-thirty. Penny is in the bathroom and I’m alone when a new guest arrives. His name is Chandler Smith, and he exhibits all the classic symptoms of a midlife crisis: expensive hairpiece, tacky red sports car, busty blonde on his arm, and snobbish contempt for us little people (though he may have had that last one all along).

“Okay, Mr. Smith, that’ll be—”

“No, no, it’s Smith, not ehsmeeth.”

“I’m well aware of that, sir. It’s just hard for me to say certain names.”

“...