A Tom on his own.
Perhaps he’s scouting the territory, getting a lay of the land, deciding the optimal place to look for babes.
Oh Hens.
Yeah, most likely Hens.
I’ll bet he’d rather we had some real happenin’ music on the jivebox.
Something he could jitter to, give him a chance to practice his strut.
A release for his raging hormones.
Hmm…
I guess Susan‘s not his type.
Probably a good thing.
For him.