JUS' A LIL' BIT ZANY...
It was a fall early evening as I walked down the side streets of this big cement city life looking for that small quaint little bistro. My feet crunched on all the crackly leaves that reminded me of saltine crackers. I thought to myself that this is one cracker who is looking for his soup. In fact, it was just last night that I had eaten three large cans of Campbell’s bean soup with copious amounts of jalapeños for good measure. I wouldn’t actually add any water because I knew the vitamins would be preserved better that way. At least, that’s what I learned in my whole college nutritional course which lasted for about a whole half an hour. It was time well spent.
Finally, I had arrived. There she stood Benny Mamma Jamma’s Bistro & Tortilla Corn Chip Factory the romantic getaway that celebrities, movie stars and big name romance experts like myself were always welcome at. Plus, their chips & salsa were excellent. I had arrived. I breathed deep the air of excitement since I knew I would soon be hanging on for dear life. Yep, just another day at the office.
As I walked in, the maitre d’ quickly hustled me over to a table. He knew that since we played pickle ball & I let him win the last set, he owed me one. Yes, that Charles Wingleberry was a good guy. Of course I slipped him a couple of George Washington’s & we were good. I told him later that night it might be an Abraham Lincoln. A sparkle in his eye immediately lit up. He knew that as a stock person over at HEB’s that I was making really good coin & tonight I was out to spend, and spend bigly.
I sat down right next to the fireplace and a large bowl of tortilla chips was at my ready. Nothing but the best hot sauce awaited me by the name of “Burn That Damm Barn Down Scorcher Flame Hot Light Your Tongue On Fire Yowza Hot Sauce”. Of course this just happened to be my go-to fav brand. I dug into the chips without remorse and with wild reckless abandon. My lips were so on fire that I couldn’t wait for my date to arrive.
But, as luck would have it, the overload of chips, salsa, hot sauce and the hypnotizing music and undulating flames of the fire produced in me a sleepiness & I quickly dozed off. Plus, I had lifted about 24 boxes of imported hair spray for Mrs. Burtkowski that she special ordered from Spain. I always wondered why her hair looked blue but now I knew. The hair spray was actually cans of blue spray paint originally destined for The Home Depo. No wonder she complained her hair was getting hard to comb.
I woke up in a flurry of activity because my crushed velvet pants that I got clearance from Costco for 14.95 now had a fire in my crotch area. It was either a burning ember from the fireplace or,, the table candle with the fancy plastic mesh around the glass; somebody had tipped over & I felt the hot wax burning a bright hot nova flame around my groin area right down to my skivies which in layman’s terms were my imported Amazon Brazilian boxer shorts.
Immediately I doused the flames but the only thing left were my boxer shorts so Charles being the good guy that he is, brought over a chef’s apron. I now looked like a college student with a modified toga. As I surveyed my newly acquired attire in the restroom mirror I KNEW that this was absolutely perfect. What woman could resist this most fortuitous change of events...
Walking out of the restroom, not a few woman were ogling at my fine taste in clothing or, it could have been the imported Barney Boxer Shorts that I was now sporting like a Hugh Hefner Smoking Jacket. I made a mental note to order the silk version on Amazon the next time around. I figured I was on the crest & riding high for the next great big fashion statement & I was now worried about spontaneous female attraction or SFA. Smooches I could handle but a bum rush of crazed wine drinking ladies with all their glam on frankly, I was not ready for.
Which brought me back to the original dynamics of why I was there in the first place which was to meet my new date Gail Gertrude “Gert” Guilthomby my future love, gym workout partner for life and babe of all babes bar none. At that time I was excited, nervous & a ready Freddy who wanted to be her Teddy for every occasion.
Up until that time I had only drank carbonated seltzer water which produced in me a rapid voluminous caldron of intestinal disturbances that I could hardly contain. The large cans of bean soup, chips & salsa probably didn’t help either.
...and there she was. Standing at the door looking around for her knight in shinning (actually molten hot wax in his groin area) armor; & there she stood. I could hear angelic angles billowing out blissful songs of romance & love in the distance. My moment had surely arrived. It was a quintessential moment indeed.
And then all of a sudden she tripped down the stairs. Immediately like a ninja warrior on steroids, I bolted out of my chair & jumped over the crowded dance floor gyrating to the tune of Love Shack by the B52’s and something very curious happened. All that pent up gas exploded out of me like a gusher at the Niagara Falls as I flew over the crowd of dancers which descended like a green mist. For some unknown speculative reason, the partygoers completely I mean completely evacuated the bistro except Charles who just stood there shaking his head.
Speaking of heads, by the time I landed, I caught “Gert’s head just before it hit the floor and my face was about an inch from hers. As you can logically guess, it was love at first sight and her lips beckoned to my flaming hot lips like Walmart shoppers the day after Thanksgiving to a pallet of 60” T.V.’s.
I knew I actually recognized her as one of the stockers at Costco & she wondered where the crushed velvet pants were that she saw me get at her store? I explained the situation & she giggled & confided to me she had a crush on me when I asked where the large Cheeto’s bags were (except I was standing right in front of them at the time).
The date went swimmingly well and all throughout the night we danced, whispered in each other’s ear, and drank about 15 liters of Mountain Dew until we laughed so hard; bubbles started coming out our noses. Later on we made planes for a second date & Gert mentioned she wanted to show me how to do proper leg extensions at the gym & we stayed together until one day she left me for a Norwegian taxi driver part time plumber who freelanced as a bellhop gigolo working part time at the Bellagio in Las Vegas.
So when Gert went to visit her third cousin on her mother’s side by the name of Edith Borgles Swansworthly & left the area, I was heartbroken and remain so to this very day.
Right now I beat Charles at every game of pickle ball & have never returned to the bistro. But, I still go to the gym every time I get time. hehehe …Scott
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My story: Adventure, Intrigue & Testosterone. Not only was I a chic magnet but unfortunately a love grenade. Let me explain.
From the start as I recall I was born. I potty trained myself at 3 days old. By 7 months I was totally immersed in calculus, trig & geometry. Possessing a curious attitude of a curious young fellow, I was not content with the banalities or vicissitudes of life so I quickly read up on on every National Geographic there was. Since boredom was not my game, finding myself in a funk of non-self actualization, I knew what to do. Danger was in my blood & risk was the only language I speak.
As a result, I stole away on a Fed Ex cargo freighter for parts unknown. Since there were no windows in the cargo compartment I used a trusty can opener, quickly cut out a small peep hole & readily accessed at 34 thousand feet that we were directly over the dense Amazon jungle. Albeit the fact that at that altitude it was excruciatingly cold and since I was in a t-shirt, shorts & running shoes, the tiny little nipples on my chest were frozen & turned completely blue.
No matter, this only built more character & confidence that I would chuckle about with my best friend Chuck while sipping Cognac at the Calabazas Country Club waiting for our well cured steaks to be done. Now, back to danger.
Immediately and from memorizing the maps from National Geographic I knew it was “game on” ... & I jumped out utilizing a couple flutter wings (paper Mâché variety) the schematics I gleaned from a recent Popular Mechanics issue.
The operation went flawlessly. I floated down all 35 pounds of me in a gala of sights & sounds. I was ready for action and LOTS of it.
I landed in a swamp & had to fight off 3 alligators, 2 hippos & a pesky parakeet who kept telling me in archaic tribal jungle language that she was in love with me. It was the parakeet I had the most trouble with. Good news was; my nipples were starting to thaw out but somewhere along the way I lost my running shorts & boxers so I took the can opener & fashioned myself an alligator hippo wardrobe. Otherwise, it would have driven the parakeet nuts.
Yes Sir/Ma’am, I was stepping out in style & the world was a pearl to be conquered. I was also a whopping 5 years old. I was now in my natural element. Danger was the ONLY language I spoke. And I spoke it well.
From Scott (the only intrepid explorer there is)
Period.