Do either of you have a phone on you?” she asked. “You can just call down if you need a break or anything. I can get a walkie too.” Winnie patted the pockets of her very tiny red velvet skirt. “I couldn’t fit it in my pockets.” “I’ve got mine,” I said, digging into the very ample pockets of my jeans. Gretchen nodded with a sigh. “The fucking patriarchy,”
