I gave myself a once-over in the mirror before I decided that it was finally time. I gave an editor at the publishing house a blowie to get them to put my ad in the paper. Sure the newspaper was archaic, but at least some scuzz ball would glance over it, the title "HOT POTATO WAITING TO BE MASHED" would catch their eye and their greasy fingers would enter my number on their phone.

It wasn't my main cell phone number. I picked up a $10 phone at Wal*Mart and used it as sort of a business phone. My wife, she...God, I love my wife and if she ever knew that I had been fired from my job it would break her heart. We have seven little tots running around at home. Baked, Twice-Baked, Loaded, Fried, Scalloped, and Tater. They were my life and I had to remind myself: I was doing this for them.

Ring ring!

I answered my phone, my business phone. An unknown called. "Hello?" I answered, and I could hear heavy breathing on the other side. The person took their sweet time answering me.

"Is this...The Hot Potato?" they said in a husky voice. I rolled my eyes. I knew that I would attract these types of people and I guess the best thing was to just grin and bear it. That would be my model for my new line of work. Grin...And bear it.

"Yes, this the Hot Potato. You looking to dig me up out of the ground?" I tried to sound as sexy as possible. I don't know if it worked, but this creep didn't seem to care.

"Oh yeah..." he went on, his voice gravely and disgusting. He coughed. "Can we meet up tonight? I need a quick fix. Looking to put my snake in your hole."

I cringed, but decided nonetheless that now I was too deep into this to back out.

"Where you lookin' to meet?" I tapped my phone, staring out the window of our cramped apartment. I hoped the money I would bring in could help us get a better house, one that the tots had room to grow and play in.

"Behind Pizza Planet...I'll be in a white Bronco, wearing a cowboy hat. Look for me, I'll be waiting. Hot...Potato..." He practically moaned the last part, and I felt a nervous sensation down my spinal cord.

I told my tots that I was going out for a bit, and for the oldest, Baked, to watch over the rest until their mom got home from work. I texted my wife and said I was going drinking with the guys, which wasn't unusual for me on a Friday Night.

As I buckled my seatbelt in my car, I brushed my moustache down with my hands, and sighed. Grin and bear it, I thought to myself. Grin and bear it.