Susan and Sally went to the seashore to a very popular seafood restaurant. Being fully paid up members in the ladies who lunch bunch of society, they settled in with cocktails for a nice long one.

Susan’s gaze locked with the stranger’s across the crowded restaurant, and she was suddenly overwhelmed by a powerful emotion. She did not know why the vision of this well appointed flâneur had stirred such deep body quivers and quakes within her. She felt a very strong compunction to go down to the beach and sell seashells at highly inflated prices to fulfill this strangers deepest need.

She had hoped he had designs on her. But truly, he only cared for himself. No more long lingering lunches for her. She was now a slave to the growing seashell economic bubble.

More shells. More better, was the watchword of the era. Even her one time friend Sally could not save her from herself or her shellfish desires.

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