Juliette had one failing. Many people have one failing. They usually join a club that reminds them not to fail one day at a time. She was ready to start her own subdivision of that group. “Hi, my fatal failing is uniforms. I love to see a man in uniform. It’s bad out there. There’s more soldiers, there’s more policemen, and worse, there’s more drivers in brown, postal workers. Every where I turn, uniforms. So, I’m swearing off all men in uniform. All uniforms. Even mechanics.” Well, there’s not going to be a stampede to join my club.
She also had one big reminder to keep her on the wagon. He was fifteen. She had a second reminder, but not as strong. “Not again, Juliette,” her mother would say with a huff of resignation. Those two reminders had kept her on the straight and narrow for fifteen years, but with so many uniforms sprinkled in the public nowadays it was getting harder and harder to abstain.