January 4, 2009

Lori Anne's Deception

Lori Anne slammed her bedroom door, shutting out the din of the TV in the living room.

“I swore I would never let him treat me that way again,” she said out loud. “I feel so stupid. How can I keep being so trusting?” Lori Anne thought to herself as she flopped on the bed. As she was staring at the ceiling, she once again vowed it would be the last time this would ever happen again.

Was that the door bell? She could barely hear the friendly ding ding dong over the booming TV. “What now?” She wondered as she opened the door. “Delivery for you, miss.” The brown uniform and truck were familiar - but this man, this vision, he was too handsome to be real.

Lori Anne batted her eyes and tossed her blonde hair, making it shimmer in the sunlight streaming through the door. She wished she was wearing her cute pink sandles instead of purple Crocs but there was nothing she could do about that.

“Can I help you?” she said in her sexiest voice, hoping to draw attention to her beautiful face instead of her ugly feet where the man in brown was staring.

“I have a delivery for you, miss,” he said again. Oh, his dark shiny hair, coffee-colored eyes, the tan of a hard working man. She had never noticed how good those uniforms looked on a man who obviously worked out.

"Is that my pizza!?” came a dream-shattering shout over the TV that was blaring “Bad boys. Bad boys. Watcha gonna do when they come for you?”

Embarrassed, she tossed her golden hair and said, “I guess that’s not a pizza.”

“No ma’am. It’s from Victoria’s Secret. They don’t sell cheesy stuff,” smiled the Adonis with coffee-colored eyes. He handed her a pen. “Sign here.”

It was then that Lori’s eyes came open and she realized it was a cruel dream.

Realizing dream sequences aren’t allowed on “It was a dark and storm night…,” Wayne snapped awake, his muscle-toned forearm rippling as handed the pen to Lori Anne.“Do you want to show me what you ordered from Victoria’s Secret,” Wayne said, flashing a suggestive grin that revealed pearly-perfect teeth.

Lori Anne smiled back, pushed open the screen door and invited Wayne into the house. “Wait here,” she said, before stomping into the sparsely-furnished living room and ordering her dad to turn down the TV’s volume.

"BAD BOYS! BAD BOYS! Whatcha gonna do when they come for you?” Edward sang from his recliner, while turning down the volume with the remote. “Is the pizza here?"

Lori Anne turned to her dad and said, “not yet.”

She thought about the day that her dad would be well enough to move out. She loved her dad, but it sort of puts a wrinkle in the dating scene when you invite a guy in and your dad is sitting in the recliner.

This wasn’t how she had planned it at all. Her life was supposed to be better than this. Deep inside she knew she just missed “him.” Mr. Right. She was tired of seeing Mr. Right Now. If Mr. Right would only come to his senses, he would know that the break up was a mistake. In her mind Raul was the one…

The Argentinian sun blazed wickedly as Raul carried more adobe bricks closer to the royal “sand castle” that was slowly being transformed into a modest church. He wondered if he’d made the right decision. He missed Lori Anne terribly and often wished he could gaze into her beautiful baby blues just one more time. And those soft, pouty lips could jump start any motorhome with just one kiss!

“But I’ve lost her for certain this time. I’m sure she’s found someone else by now,” he pondered. Dropping his bricks he speaks out loud, “What am I saying? It’s not like Lori Anne would fall for just any delivery boy that came to her front door! I’ll hike into town to find a phone and call her tomorrow."

That is, if he can walk after dropping bricks on his foot.

Lori Anne stammered, looked embarrassed and said to the man in brown, “Perhaps another time. When there is more time. I know you are busy with holiday deliveries.”Sweet lovely and lonely Lori Anne shut the door. She said to herself, “Oh dearest daddy, I think it’s time you went on that senior singles cruise. Surely you’ll be strong enough by the time the ticket gets here. We can talk about it when the pizza comes.”

The doorbell rang again and Lori Anne opened it to discover another gorgeous Speciman of Man standing before her. Sven was a blue-eyed blond foreign exchange student from Sweden working his way through college delivering pizzas. “Pizza delivery, miss,” Sven said, his eyes scanning her head-to-toe before focusing on the purple Crocs on Lori Anne’s feet.

“BAD BOYS! BAD BOYS!” Lori Anne’s father sang from the living room.

“Come in. Come in just a minute while I get my wallet.” She saw Sven, and as handsome as he was, she knew where her heart was and that no one would ever take the place of Raul.

She wondered if she had realistic expectations from any relationship she had ever had. Maybe she was waiting for a Prince Charming that would never come… or maybe never come for her. But oh how she missed Raul. She just couldn’t let go and move on.

She remembered when she parked her car on the street by Raul’s driveway and let all the air out of a tire. He drove right by her like she wasn’t even there. The story of her life. “What length does a girl have to go to?” she thought to herself as she wondered what Raul was doing today. She knew Raul was in Argentina building churches but she didn’t know if he ever thought about her.

“I’ll call him tomorrow,” she whispered to herself, pulling her wallet from her purse to pay Sven for the pizza. She turned with cash in hand to find Sven right behind her.

“Miss,” Sven said, “That man in the living room is the first person who has ever ordered a pizza with no toppings, no cheese. I kind of hate to charge you for this naked pizza.”

“Oh, he’s on a very restricted diet.”

“And miss,” he stepped even closer and whispered her ear, “I belong to a Facebook support group called I Don’t care How Comfortable Crocs Are, You Look Like A Dumbass. Can I send you an invitation?”

Enraged, Lori lets loose a tirade, “Listen ‘pizza boy’ you’d better just take your money and go peddle your pizzas elsewhere! You can bet that this is the last time I order another Bell Hobson pizza! If I didn’t think this was the only job you’re qualified to do, I’d call your manager to get you fired!!”

Sensing that the Facebook title’s “Dumbass” inclusion may have offended a, now, potentially non-repeat customer, Sven decides to never offer advice to another customer. At least not while making a delivery.Meanwhile, Raul awakens under the Argentinian moon with a start! He wonders why he has a sudden yearning for pizza... plain... with no toppings... or cheese... ?

Maybe his subconscious was giving him a new product to introduce to the public. Pasta pies? Possibly baked in an adobe brick oven?

“Ah but I must sleep, if tomorrow I am going to hike all the way to town to call my sweet Lori Anne.”

Lori Anne sat alone in the dark and reflected on the insanity her life had become. She soaked in the silence of the house and decided to call her friend, Susan.

“What is wrong with Crocs?” she asked her friend Susan Wade as she sobbed on the phone. “I mean, I’m a good person. I have good taste, don’t I? I know I have one ear that’s bigger and my eyes aren’t really what you would call even. I love Crocs...” (Writer’s question-what are Crocs?)

Susan couldn’t get a word in. She had just met Lori Anne three days ago. But Susan, being the kind person that she was, said: “I’m sorry, but who is this?"

Susan added: “Miss, we’re not interested in Crocs - those ugly rubbery-looking shoes that are all the rage for Branson tourists. And we’re on Missouri’s No-Call List. If you call us again, we’ll report you to the Missouri Attorney General.”Stunned by Susan’s vitriolic reaction to her call, Lori Anne quickly hung up the phone and decided to call Phillip.

Phillip, who had recently begun wearing fur-trimmed Santa hats, was a good friend who might listen. (Writer’s note: At the least, he would understand Lori Anne’s odd apparel preferences.)

Phillip picked up on the second ring. “Hi Lori Anne.” Phillip sang. “I’m so glad you called! I was just fluffing the tassle on my Santa cap and wondering if you were free to go shoe shopping. I just found out I have horrible taste! What the.....????? I had no idea that Victoria’s Secret apparel and Crocs don’t go together! Maybe we can find you a new Santa hat, too. And maybe while we’re out, we can get a little dinner and maybe catch a movie downtown. C’mon it’ll be fun!”

The last thing Phillip wanted to do was stop fluffing the tassle on his cap. And the idea of ruining his cute Santa’s Helper Image by hanging out downtown with a woman who didn’t realize lingerie and Crocs don’t go together, even when the colors match perfectly, was appalling.

“We hav... a ...bad... conn... tion, Lor ... Anne,” Phillip stammered. ”..all me... bac... in a few... minu... s.”

Lori Anne stared at the phone clenched in her hand as the call to Phillip disconnected.

“Oh yeah, right! Like he hasn’t pulled that stunt before,” Lori blistered. Determined not to be ignored, again, she redialed Phillip’s number. Once it picked up she yelled, “How many times do you think you can get away with that phoney out-of-service-area stunt? If you don’t want to go shopping, just say so!”

A woman’s voice responds to Lori, “I’m sorry, but who is this?”

“I’m Lori An... wait a minute... Susan, is that you? I can’t believe this! You and Phillip? I can’t wait to hear the explanation for this one!”

“I, I, (sigh) I’m a sucker for tassles! There I said it. I LOVE TASSLES!” Susan lets out a huge sigh of relief. “I didn’t want anyone to know, but I just had to see it again. And if you tell anybody, I will deny it!”

“I’m so shocked at you right now,” Lori stammered.

Phillip cuts in on the extension, “I’m sorry you had to find out this way, but doggone it, I’m a man and I have needs too! We’ll always be friends and go out for coffee now and again like before.”

“I guess everybody deserves to find happiness where ever they can, right?” Lori sighed.

“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself, you’re not so bad,” then Phillip whispers, “Guess who’s wearing my Crocs right now.” Phillip giggles.

That’s when Lori hears Susan scream in the background something incoherent and the phone slams. “Gotta go before Sue tries to flush my Crocs!” Phillip hangs up the extension.

“I need some ice cream,” Lori says.

While Lori was savoring an Ozarks Turtle in the parking lot of Andy’s Frozen Custard, her home phone was ringing. And ringing. After that long walk into town, Raul was not going back to his church building duties without talking to his beloved Lori Anne.

He ordered another Quilmes Cristal lager beer, then he would try calling his sweet Lori Anne again.“I wish she was here to enjoy this Argentine brew with me. Although she could probably still drink me under the table,” he muttered into his beer.

Lori shivered as she tried to drown her sorrows with an Ozarks Turtle made of frozen custard, chocolate, caramel and pecans. It was her favorite dish at Andy’s Frozen Custard.

“This stuff is the best treat in town, even in the middle of winter,” she said, thinking about ordering one for the road and wishing for the warmth of summer.

Thoughts of summer led Lori to dream of another favorite treat, Pineapple Whip at Ozark Empire Fair, and the last time she and Raul had been together. Her tequila-blurred memories included Raul scraping the peperoni and cheese off his giant pizza slice as they strolled the midway.

Meanwhile, Raul counted the empty beer bottles lined up on the bar. Six beer bottles, six unanswered calls to Lori Anne. He was about to hang up, when he heard an angelic voice say, “Hello?”

“Hello?” Raul said. “Lori Anne? Is that really you?”

“Raul? I didn’t expect you to call me!” Lori Anne felt her palms begin to sweat. Her left eye was twitching. “Raul! I was just sitting here thinking about how I can’t wait to have a Pineapple Whip at the Ozark Empire Fair, which is July 31st through August 9th! Tell me that you’ll meet me there!”

“I’m not s-s-sure if I can make it back in time,” Raul stammered for no apparent reason. “What were those dates again?”

Lori Anne started to repeat the dates when she heard a sound behind her and the phone line went dead.

“Do you have a bad connection??? Listen closely this time because I don’t want you to miss it! The Ozark Empire Fair is July 31 through August 9th!” Lori Anne repeated as loudly as she could.

Raul paused a moment and said, “I don’t know if I can make it! What are you doing during Firefall?”

“Firefall? Well I was planning to...”

And the line goes really dead this time. Dead dead dead.

“Dang it, I hate it when AT&T drops my calls!”

Then, for no apparent reason, Lori Anne starts singing an old Dr. John song, and substituting parts she didn’t know with new lyrics:

"I was in the right place, but it must have been the wrong time. I was in the right vein, but it must’ve been the wrong line.

I was in the right lane, but I want to make a left turn. I was in my right brain, but I didn’t want a heartburn..."

"WHEN WILL THIS DECEPTION EVER END?” Lori Anne said to herself. “Will this go on forever??? I just want a little happiness for cryin’ out loud!”

Lori Anne was thinking about a new love interest that had wandered into her life a little more than a week ago – Felipe. She had met him at a group she attended.

He----was----so----dreamy...

While visiting a castle that a friend owned, Felipe had snuck her out to the balcony and kissed her passionately under the light of the moon. “YOWZA!” was the only thing she could think to describe that kiss.

“Who am I kidding?” Lori Anne thought to herself. She was deceiving herself if she thought she could really hold back the passion she felt for Felipe.

Meanwhile, Raul was eyeing a dark-eyed beauty at the bar and thinking about Lori Anne’s annoying habit of making up lyrics to songs she didn’t know. When the girl at the bar started singing karoke in a husky alto, and got all the words right, Raul immediately fell head over heels.

Back in Missouri, Lori Anne was thinking about Felipe. His passionate kiss had erased all thoughts of Raul. She smiled and began singing quietly.

“Good boys. Good boys. Whatcha gonna do with my purple shoes...

The End
Contributing authors: Susan Wade, Lori Anne Locke, Patsy Bell Hobson, Wayne Nale, Phillip Secca
From It was a dark and stormy night... on Facebook at http://budurl.com/darkstormynight. Join the group and add to the stories!

Parenting = Insanity?

Parenting isn't easy.

Insanity, on the other hand, is easily achieved, especially by parents.

But having crazy parents is devastating and demoralizing. Youth who have the misfortune to be trapped in a home with looney parents have few choices.

Some youth choose rebellion, or rage as a way of coping. Others run away. Some just plug in the ipod and pretend to ignore the nutsos.

Most parents are insane. They get it from their kids. Kids on the other hand, pretend that the parents have always been a bit ... off.

The fact is that when kids eventually leave home, their parents make a miraculous recovery!

And they figure out how to get even! They can spoil their grandchildren. They do this by holding the infant more than any baby needs to be held so the baby thinks it must be held every moment of the day. They give in to every whim of the toddler, who learns quickly to throw temper tantrums, particularly in public places. When the child is in elementary school, the grandparents give the child lavish gifts that can't compare with the educational toys their parents want them to have. When the teen years arrive, the grandparents give the teen money, no questions asked. The result is their dhildren - the parents of their grandchildren - quickly become insane, repeating a cycle that has gone on for generations.

Revenge, my friends, is sweet!

That's a given.

End of Story.

Contributing authors: Susan Wade, Patsy Bell Hobson, Rosemarie Combrinck Coetzee

January 2, 2009

Case of the Missing Kringle

9:45 p.m.

I knew it was going to be another one of those strange days when the call came in over the radio. A missing persons report for a K. Kringle to be exact.

An odd coincidence, this being the night before Christmas and all, that someone would actually have the name "Kringle."

I'm Sgt. Charlie Dickens and being the only detective that was working this holiday...well... I had to take the call.

10:02 p.m.

I arrived at the scene. That's when I saw it; an overturned sleigh in the snow - packages strewn everywhere."C'mon guys! The joke's on me, right? Our missing person is 'Santa Claus'?"

"Hey, this is how we found it, sarge. No one's touched a thing!" one of the uniforms replied.

"If I find out you're prankin me you'll get more than a lump of coal in yer stocking this year, pal!"Suddenly it all became real when I noticed the blood stains in the snow by the sleigh. Santa may not be real but this blood was real enough. OK, time to go to work.

What luck to have snow on Christmas eve! The footprints were much easier to follow. Focusing on the boot prints I tried to ignore all of the hoof marks that ran everywhere.

That's when I found it... an open canister of sour cream and onion Pringles potato chips sitting on the street curb, just a few feet from the overturned sleigh. Though the sleigh and strewn packages were covered with a light dusting of snow, the Pringles can didn't show any signs of exposure to the weather.

"Hey fellas," over here, I shouted. "We need to check this for finger prints."

10:15 p.m.

As we investigated the scene, a crowd began gathering, includling a short, tubby guy with pointy ears who was wearing... candy cane striped tights.

"Ho ho ho" I said." Officer Holiday, see what the fat guy in the green vest and striped tights knows about this 'accident.' I'm going to see where these tracks lead.

"It didn't take a K9 unit to track the prints and the occasional jingle bell all the the to the zoo. “Someone went to a lot of trouble for this hoax,” I mumbled to myself. The door was busted open on Santa's Workshop, where the Friends of Dickerson Park Zoo sponsored photos with Santa Claus and his reindeer every day right up until Christmas Eve.

"Geez, now a break-in. I'm gonna be doing paperwork until New Years at the rate this is going."

"Pssst. Hey flat-foot, over here," a voice spoke around the corner."I saw the whole thing, I tell ya," it continued.

Rounding the turn I come face-to-face with two beadie eyes surrounded by creamy white feathers.

"Geez, a talkin bird? That's all I need right now!"

The bird continued, "I tell ya I saw the whole thing. You got any crackers? Seeds? C'mon copper, give us a donut!""I'm gettin too old for this ..."

11:45 p.m.

As I stared into the white bird's beadie eyes, a flatulent Christmas fairy appeared. Puffing clouds of glitter out its rear, the fairy flapped its dainty wings and said in its tiny fairy voice: "I saw it, too." The fairy blushed as another blast of glitter blew out it's behind - Pooft.

And then, from under the rubble of the vandalized Santa's Workshop, I heard, a faint, "Oh, Oh, Oh."

11:50 p.m.

I didn't really know what to say or do, since I've never actually seen a real-live flying fairy before; at least not since I've been on the wagon.

"You're still a cop, so do your job," I reminded myself. Tracing my glance to where the moanings were coming from I prayed that it wasn't another fairy under that debris. I mean it's hard enough keeping my professionalism and composure while in the company of ONE fairy. I'm not sure that I can if there was a second one.I started reaching down to move a board... and that's when it hit me, the smell...

"Hey, you farted didn't you? Geez don't get any of that cra... I mean, dust on me! And stand... er... hover over there, down wind."

"So that's where pixie dust comes from," I thought aloud to myself.

"Actually it oozes out of our entire bodies, kinda like exhaling. And it's FAIRY dust! I'm no stinkin' pixie, Sherlock! Want to see some more?"

"Hey, git over here and help me move these boards, you little fairy!"

"Roger that," she replied, flying toward the rubble and leaving fairy residue in her wake."Aaa-CHOO!" I sneezed. Guess I'm alergic to fairy dust.

Who knew.

1:10 a.m.

After my sneezing fit ended, a louder "Oh, oh, oh" came from beneath the overturned sleigh and we began working quickly to uncover whoever - or whatever - was buried beneath.

The fairy moved the little stuff, the fat guy in the green vest huffed and puffed as he pulled away the larger boards and the beadie-eyed bird pecked at anything that moved.

I grabbed the edge of the sleigh and with a heave, uprighted it. We all stared at what was beneath. The bird flapped its wings, squawked and flew to the roof of Santa's vandalized workshop.

1:15 a.m.

And what to my blurry eyes should appear but the jolly old elf himself and eight tiny reindeer. "OK my deer, we're out of here. This seasonal story will be continued next year."

The End
Contributing authors: Phillip Secca, Susan Wade, Patsy Bell Hobson
From It was a dark and stormy night... on Facebook at http://budurl.com/darkstormynight.
Join the group and add to the stories!