Thursday, October 25, 2012

The Blind Date

I don’t know what I was thinking. I’ve never done anything like this before. Why did I decide to become so adventurous at the ripe old age of thirty-five? I know awkward social situations spark my anxiety, but did that stop me? No! Am I really this desperate?

Evidently I am or I wouldn’t be in a bar on a Wednesday night waiting to meet a man I barely know. Sure, he sounds good on paper, and on the phone, but that doesn’t mean anything. I’m sure Ted Bundy seemed nice right up until the moment he snatched his victim. 

Oh great, start thinking about serial killers. That’s gonna help calm your nerves. Think about all the good relationships that have started with blind dates. Trish and Alex met this way. You were there, offering moral support while Trish waited to see if Alex was an axe murder. But is Trish here tonight, by your side? No! She and Alex have a wedding rehearsal. 

Who knows if Trish will even talk to me again after I miss the rehearsal? I told her I’d try to make it, that I didn’t think this would take long, but she wasn’t appeased. She wanted me there from the beginning. Well, we don’t always get what we want. I wasn’t postponing this meeting. I’d already worried myself to death long enough. It was time to get it over with.

I wish he’d told me more about what he looks like. Tall, dark hair and blue eyes matches over half the men in the room for goodness sakes. Couldn’t he have said, “Gorgeous with dimples you can sink into,” which would have sent me right to the bar beside Mr. Perfect over there, or “Tall, dark hair, blue eyes and abs you can bounce a quarter off of,” which would have meant he was Mr. Fitness over by the jukebox. UGH! I need more to go on.

Of course, I can just wait until he finds me because I gave a better description. I think I was hoping he’d see me and just slink away and I’d be spared this whole ordeal. Why else would I have worn this ridiculous pink sweater that was a size too small?

I wish he’d come over already. He has to know it’s me. There’s no one else in here with red hair, wearing pearl glasses and a pink sweater. He can’t have missed me. Maybe my plan worked after all. I’ll wait a few more minutes and then head on to the rehearsal if he doesn’t show.

Okay, that’s it, time to leave this joint. I’ve been stood up. Either that or he showed and didn’t like the sweater. Doesn’t matter to me. I just know I’ll never put myself through this again. Not even for Mr. Perfect over there. 

Well, maybe I shouldn’t be so hasty. Those dimples are damn cute…

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Eggnog Mistakes

Here was our writing exercise for the week:

After drinking a few too many eggnogs at your annual holiday party, you wake up the next morning realizing you did some things you now regret. Write an e-mail to your boss that will ensure you still get a raise next year.

Here's what I came up with. What do y'all think?

Subject: Christmas Party

Hello, Howard. I know you’re probably regretting last night as much as I am. I am so sorry I stumbled into the cleaning closet when I did. I know you and Donna wanted privacy. I really thought it was the bathroom. Damn eggnog. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that I’ll keep the photograph I took with my phone to myself. I know you were worried about it and wanted to ease your mind.

See you Monday at eight for next year’s performance evaluation. You and Martha have a nice weekend.

                                                                                                               Ronald Ames

Thursday, October 11, 2012

Roll Tide

Roll, Tide, Roll
Across the grassy knoll
Combatants locked in fierce embrace
A dance of agility and grace

Tearing up the turf,
Coaches breaking all the rules
Overcoming obstacles
Going old school

Thundering across the field
The crowd goes wild
Boos and hisses from the other team
Running back eatin’ up the green

The final moments
Tie ballgame
Quarterback throws,
His moment of fame

Watch it!
Go, go, go!
Nobody can stop him!
Roll, Tide, Roll

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Fish Falling from the Sky

“I can’t believe you did that, Tucker!” Andy screamed, his ears still stopped up from the explosion. “We are so dead.”

“What?” Andy screamed back and cupped his ear as Tucker repeated what he’d said. “Nah, it’ll be fine. Niles is out of town today and Barry’s too lazy to care about a little ole explosion.”

Tucker shook his head at the other man and said, “The sheriff may be out of town, but even Barry might get curious when people start telling him about the fish falling from the sky down at Ponders Lake.”

Andy looked across the water at the people on the beach who had been staring at them for the last ten minutes while they gathered all the fish into the boat. He squinted to see better and then shook his head. “That’s the Crowder family over yonder on the beach, Tucker,” he said. 

Tucker shaded his eyes and looked closer. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“Positive,” Andy replied and smiled. 

Tucker blew out the breath he’d been holding and finished icing the fish down. He knew they didn’t have anything to worry about since it was the Crowder’s who had witnessed Andy’s stupid stunt. It didn’t matter if they did go around town talking about fish falling from the sky. Nobody had believed anything the Crowder’s said since the UFO incident of ’95.

Wednesday, October 3, 2012

The Flu Shot

This was our exercise for the week:


You're at the doctor's office for a regular check up when the doctor suggests you get a flu shot as well. You hate shots, so you come up with the most outlandish excuse as to why you can't get one. Start your story with "You're not going to believe this, but..." and end it with "And that's why I can't get a flu shot today." 500 words or fewer.

“You’re not going to believe this, but I have a performance tonight and when I get shots they leave this huge knot and bruise on my hip. And, you see, the outfit I’m wearing tonight leaves nothing to the imagination, if you know what I mean.”

Amy stopped long enough for the doctor to shut his mouth, which had been hanging open during her speech, but not long enough for him to do more urging of the flu shot. She hated shots, and was bound and determined not to get one. 

“Plus, the outfit is purple, and a big blue spot on my hip would make me look like a walking bruise. Not exactly the look I’m going for tonight. Gotta keep the crowd happy so the tips keep coming, if you know what I mean.”

“But…,” the doctor started to say.

“No, I’ll just have to wait,” Amy added. “There’s nothing else to be done about it. I need the money, you see, because my daughter has this recital coming up and I’m short of cash to buy her the dress of her dreams.”

“I’m sure that’s all important, but your health comes firs…,” the doctor tried again, but Amy talked over him.

“And, my mom needs new glasses. She’s already fell and broken a hip ‘cause she couldn’t see the steps and burned her hand trying to cook supper half blind, and I can’t take her to the eye doctor if I spend the extra money on this today.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” the doctor said. “But, still…,” he tried once more to no avail.

Amy sighed and slumped in her seat as she told him, “I also need to take my son to the dentist, which means I really need to make as much as I can at the performance tonight. Then there’s the light bill, which is higher than ever this month, and my car payment is due next week, and the washer started making this gurgling noise yesterday so I’m probably going to have to get a new one. I need the money, Doc, so I have to look my best tonight, and that’s why I can’t get the flu shot today.”