The Hunt for Missing Tank Tops

Downtown Neighbors

Swipe My Tank Tops!

I wrote before about finally finding the perfect tank top for me. Now I am ready to pull one on and show the world how great it fits.

I'll just go over to the special tank top drawer in my bed and pull one out.


Wait a minute! This is where I carefully put the 15 shirts I washed and then hanged to dry. They are gone!

I won't settle for this. I'm going to find them if it takes me all day.

I'm heading outside right now to investigate.


What? I can't believe it. My own neighbor Stella Dottir is wearing one of my shirts right in Stella Dottir Gallery. 

The nerve! Who does she think she is?

Yes, enjoy your little moment while you can, Stella. I'm about to reclaim my tank top.  You can sew your own clothes.


I'll give you a big kiss before I go, though, because I love you.


Good heavens! Julie Swayze of Metropolis Books has also pirated one of my shirts.

If I can't trust my local bookseller, then just who can I trust.


This is not good news. Julie has better biceps than I have.

I've had enough, Julie. Give me back my shirt. I can't handle the competition.

You're lucky I love you too, or you'd be in big trouble.


You could knock me over with a feather. I see Don Garza, the Town Crier of Los Angeles, wearing one of my special shirts.

He's a clever one.  He's trying to distract me with a copy of Steve Lopez's new book the Soloist. He just bought it at Metropolis Books.


Yes, I can't deny you look good, Don.  Still, I want my shirt back, buddy.

Oh, this neighborhood I live in. All the neighbors think that they can just help themselves. 

I need to go home to regroup.


Ruby!  You little traitor. You too are wearing one of my workout shirts.

Forget the ides of March.  April is the month full of trouble for me. Oh, even my bull terrier has turned on me.


Don't even try to strike a pose, Rubester. That shirt is coming off you now.

I'm heading back out into the hood to find the rest. 

Oh, brave new world with such people--and dogs!--in it.


I'm shocked! It's art czar Bert Green in one of my ribbed athletic tee shirts.

I'll admit you look sharp, Bert, and cute too.  Still, I saved up my money for shirts for ME, not you.


Now be fair and return what is mine. You don't want me to tear it off you right in Bert Green Fine Arts, do you?


Good grief. I saunter a half block away and look what I find. Dale Youngman has nabbed one of my special shirts.

Is there no mercy in this world?


Doll, you're working that shirt but it won't do you any good.


Yes, rub it in my face, Dale. Go ahead and flex away right in Dale Youngman Gallery at the Regent. 

It'll be your last flex in my shirt.


I finally have retrieved all of my shirts. What an ordeal. I'm exhausted!

to be continued......