Three Scoops is a Blast! Page 10

  GRACIE: Humph. Actually, I don’t mind your girth. Let’s just say you’re well-rounded. Or a man of substance.

  MARK: And I know perfectly well what substance you’re thinking of.

  GRACIE (smiling for the first time): Yes, well, I have some of that in me as well.

  MARK: So, no need for prune juice cocktails then?

  GRACIE (now giggling): I do keep pretty regular.

  MARK: You know, I may be starting to like you.

  GRACIE: Don’t strain yourself. (giggles again)

  The elevator came to a stop on the ground floor and they disembarked.

  MARK: You wanna go for a drink? I’ve got stories I can tell you.

  GRACIE: Will they be off the record?

  MARK: Absolutely. The best kind.

  GRACIE: Okay then, this might prove interesting.

  ~~

  In the year-end edition of What’s Up? – the cheeky monthly magazine distributed inside The Daily Digest tabloid - the following question was put to a number of high-profile women in the fashion, arts and media communities: Who was the sexiest man you met in the past year?

  Gracie Phitts was among the ten women questioned. She was delighted to go on record. “Well there was a man I was lucky enough to meet at a dinner party. You all know him. His name is.….”

  Dancing the Family Man Shuffle

  February 5, 2010

  David and Maria made sure to arrive home on a Tuesday evening before 6 p.m. after long hard days at work by both of them. They were a married couple in their mid 40s, with three children – William aged 20, Walter 10 and Wendy 5. Later that evening, they would be meeting with Maria’s younger sister, Lucy, and her acquaintance or boyfriend or common-law husband, Jerry. The exact nature of their relationship remained fuzzy. The occasion was Lucy’s birthday.

  The following conversation was conducted in the master bedroom and adjoining bathroom as David and Maria prepared themselves. Weeknights out were rare in their household.

  DAVID: So how’d your day go, sweetheart?

  MARIA: The usual. A mad rush. Worked too hard. Would have rather stayed home in bed.

  DAVID: Did they say anything at day care when you picked up the kids?

  MARIA: Yep. Apparently Walter came out with another one of his beauts. You know they went on a field trip to the art gallery. Our little treasure wanted to see John the Baptist’s head on a platter.

  DAVID: Oh yeah, I think I told him about that one. I’ve always been impressed by that painting.

  MARIA: Well, Miss Reed was appalled again. She thinks Wally may be disturbed. Told me the story and wanted to see my reaction. It’s a follow-up to the time he told her about the horror movies we let him watch. I think she’s nearly ready to send a social worker around to see us.

  DAVID: So what’d you say?

  MARIA: I didn’t show any weakness. I said it seemed like a perfectly reasonable request to me. Who doesn’t want to see John’s dripping bloody head? If you show any self-doubt as a parent, then they’ve got you. They’ll assault you with their feel-good everybody-needs-analysis spiel.

  DAVID: It’s like when they came after me about Wendy hoarding snack food in her pockets. Told me it was a nasty habit and unhygienic. Well, of course it is. But I said that good hygiene is overrated. That it was no different than when our cat brings home a mouse and wants to show off her hunting skills. I got the strangest looks, but they’ve left Wendy and me alone ever since.

  MARIA: All the same, would you please have a talk with Wally?

  DAVID: I know. He has to try to fit in better and keep some of his more bizarre comments and revelations to himself. Please, for all our sakes. Who’s paying for dinner tonight?

  MARIA: I guess we’ll have to pick up the tab. It’s Lucy’s special night. By the way, that reminds me. I’ll need your credit card on Friday. The front brakes need replacing on the car.

  DAVID: Weren’t they done a couple of months ago?

  MARIA: What can I say? The van’s a piece of plastic junk. You know I think it’s possessed.

  DAVID: It’ll be re-possessed if we can’t get a handle on our bills. Speaking of faulty memory, I forgot to ask yesterday how the kids’ music lessons went.

  MARIA: So-so. Mrs. Gretzch gave Wendy a lecture about not practicing enough. Wendy was close to tears. Wally’s guitar teacher went on again about the upcoming recital and how he’s still not taking his solo seriously.

  DAVID: They don’t get it that the kids are enrolled to get a grounding in music and have some fun. Why does everything have to be grim and serious? Everyone is so driven these days.

  MARIA: Can you pick the two of them up tomorrow night after Mandarin class?

  DAVID: Sure, I guess so. Why, where will you be?

  MARIA: Remember I got a late appointment with Dr. Eisenberg for root canal work?

  DAVID: Is it covered under your health plan?

  MARIA: Some of it is. These things are never completely covered.

  DAVID: You and I are both working like dogs at well-paying jobs and we’re always broke. This wasn’t in my contract when we got hitched.

  MARIA: Tell me about it.

  DAVID: Say, why is my fresh underwear still wet?

  MARIA: That’s the problem with the dryer I’ve been telling you about. It doesn’t vent properly.

  DAVID: There’s another expense. It doesn’t end. Let’s unhook the vent from the ceiling and run it into the laundry room. Cover the end with a stocking.

  MARIA: Then we’re risking a fire hazard. And if the insurance company finds out what we’ve done, they won’t pay on any claim.

  DAVID: There’s six feet of pipe running behind the drywall to the outside. It’s probably blocked with squirrel nuts or something. I’ll have to get someone in to find the problem and fix it. What we need in this family is a man. You know what I mean? Not me, but a handy man.

  MARIA: I hear you. We could use another wife, too, to do the cleaning.

  Just then, Wally and Wendy ran into the room.

  WALLY: Goldie threw up in the living room.

  DAVID and MARIA together: Oh crap!

  WENDY: JINX!

  DAVID: What’s Jinx mean?

  MARIA: It’s when two people say exactly the same thing at the same time.

  DAVID: Right. When I was a kid, we used to do that too. Okay, I’ll be down in a few minutes. Hold your noses until then. What’s the matter with the dog? The fancy food and purified liquids we’ve got her on are making her sick. Let’s get her back on leftovers and tap water.

  MARIA: It would save us a bit of money. We’ve also got to tackle our electronic bills. They’re costing us as much per month now as a car. Cell phones, the internet connections, cable TV, wireless hook-ups. At least with wireless, we don’t have to worry about fires so much.

  DAVID: Here Junior, put this in the oven for a few minutes, will you? (He hands his clammy underwear to Wally.)

  MARIA: I wouldn’t do that if I were you. I tried a similar trick when I was in college and started a fire.

  DAVID: Your brain’s on fire. No wonder William grew up to be a fireman. It’s a wonder we haven’t turned him into an arsonist.

  MARIA: I’m always alert to potential danger.

  DAVID: Give me back my briefs, junior. I was just kidding. Guess I’ll have to go alfresco.

  MARIA: This is a good excuse for you to wear your kilt.

  DAVID: You mean Scottish-chieftain style? What if there’s a fire at the restaurant and I have to jump from an upper-storey window? The crowd below will see more than they bargained for.

  MARIA: We’ll refuse to eat anywhere but on the ground floor. Or we’ll have to wait until William shows up with the fire truck and moves the spectators back.

  DAVID: At least I’m looking forward to Sunday when we can relax.

  MARIA: You’re forgetting the concert’s on Sunday.

  DAVID: Have you ever wondered what’s in this for me? And I don’t mean the collective me. I mean me specif
ically.

  MARIA (going over and giving him a hug): I know dear. Sometimes I think I’m more anchor than wife.

  DAVID: No, that’s not true at all and you know it. You’re my rock, baby. You and the kids are everything to me.

  MARIA: Come on. We’d better get going. And don’t forget to bring the Comet and cloth to clean up after Goldie.

  ~~

  On the drive to the restaurant, David tried not to be annoyed that Maria spent most of her time “talking” to her Twitter pals over her i-Phone. It helped that most of them were people he had come to know and like as well. For her part, Maria blocked out the sound of David’s fingernails tapping on the steering wheel. He was keeping time to a song melody that was unspooling inside his own head.

  They arrived early to hold the reservation and Lucy and Jerry appeared 15 minutes later. Good food and conversation occupied the next hour. At the conclusion of the meal, however, when all was contentment, desserts were on the way and coffee was about to be served, it seemed the time was finally right to pose a question that seemed obvious to the older couple.

  DAVID: So guys, are there any plans in the works for marriage and little ones to brighten up your lives?

  LUCY: No, not at all. In fact, we’ve taken a pledge to never get married or have children. It wouldn’t be fair to bring them into such a mixed-up world as this. Our relationship is stronger for being respectful of each other’s independence.

  JERRY: That’s right, David. Most people don’t really understand the nature of love. Love is freedom. It’s treating your partner like a butterfly you’re prepared to set loose at any time. Then if they come back, the bonding is more complete.

  LUCY: Yes, exactly. Space defines our love. And respect for each other’s needs.

  JERRY: It’s important to keep the romance alive. That’s why we go out on a date at least once a week. To a play or a movie after a nice expensive dinner. Getting away is crucial too.

  LUCY: In fact, we’re planning another vacation to the Caribbean next month. We’ll lie on the sand, walk along the beach, hold hands and refresh our spirits. (Lucy gazed deeply into Jerry’s eyes and he returned the favour.)

  JERRY: How about you two? When’s your next trip?

  David and Maria looked at each other for a heartbeat. Then they turned back to the other couple and almost shouted simultaneously, “Oh grow up!” Then immediately after, “JINX!”

  An Imaginary Friend of an Imaginary Friend of Mine

  February 12, 2010

  Bradley found it was easiest to talk to his imaginary friend, Russell, when he was getting dressed before the full-length mirror in the bathroom. In such a setting, Russell became both a congenial valet and a good sounding board. He would stand to the side and let Bradley talk.

  Russell had been around for as long as Bradley could remember. A bit portly, a tad balding and approaching 30, the two of them even looked like each other. Russell was more devil-may-care in his attitude, though. Now, getting ready for the most important evening of his life, Bradley needed to search out Russell’s opinion more than ever.

  BRAD: We’ve been together a long time and you’ve always given me excellent counsel. I have to come to you again, though, because this is one more time when I’m not sure what to do.

  RUSS: I appreciate what you’re saying but as I’ve told you before, the advice doesn’t really come from me. It comes from a very dear friend of mine, someone you refuse to believe in.

  BRAD: You do understand my skepticism, don’t you?

  RUSS: Not really.

  BRAD: What you’re saying is I’m getting advice from an imaginary friend of an imaginary friend of mine, right?

  RUSS: If you say so. She doesn’t seem so imaginary to me and what she says is always spot on.

  BRAD: The advice has been excellent. When I wasn’t sure what career path to take, you convinced me start-up software development was a natural for me. And I’ve made a bundle.

  RUSS: Absolutely true.

  BRAD: And there have been several other times as well, although not as many as I would like. I’ll never forget when I made money betting on the Super Bowl. That was amazing.

  RUSS: I remember. She told you, through me, to go against your team and pick the underdog, not only to cover the spread but to win outright. It paid off handsomely for you.

  BRAD: Yes. It was a win-win situation. I was sure if I put money against my own team, it would give them a better chance of coming out victorious. It would be divine retribution.

  RUSS: You have a fairly big opinion of yourself, don’t you?

  BRAD: My only complaint is that you or this secret buddy of yours don’t help me often enough. But hang on a second, you’ve never told me before your other friend is a girl.

  RUSS: If I don’t imagine a female companion, how am I ever supposed to meet a woman? Besides, you now have a girlfriend. Where’s that leave me? Do you want me to be lonely?

  BRAD: I guess you’ve got a point there. Actually, I suppose it would defy logic if you didn’t have a special friend.

  RUSS: One might even say it would be hypocritical of me.

  BRAD: Yes, isn’t that interesting? You would be both denying your own self and losing out through self-denial. Why shouldn’t you have a sweetie? Is she nice?

  RUSS: I think so.

  BRAD: And you two spend your time talking about me?

  RUSS: Give me a break. No!

  BRAD: Well you must talk about me or how would she know what information to pass on.

  RUSS: Sheila and I talk about all sorts of things. I could tell you it’s usually pillow talk, but that would be bragging. So let’s pretend she and I get together every night over dinner.

  BRAD: And talk about me?

  RUSS: We talk of world politics, the economy, movies, music and the latest trends. Feelings too, if I’m not careful. Then sometimes, occasionally, you come up in the conversation.

  BRAD: I need the two of you to give me more tips.

  RUSS: That won’t happen.

  BRAD: Why not?

  RUSS: Because Sheila doesn’t like you. She likes me. She only gives you enough useful information so you’ll keep coming back to me. She’s trying to keep me alive.

  BRAD: What if I threaten to never see you again?

  RUSS: You won’t. You’re both needy and greedy.

  BRAD: Okay, is there anything she wants from me? I’d be happy to sign a contract.

  RUSS: For what, your soul? Sheila won’t agree to something like that. She doesn’t have horns or a long pointy tail. She’s a sweetie and I’ll ask you to speak of her with respect.

  BRAD: But she knows everything and she always gets it right. I have to tap into that.

  RUSS: You’re exaggerating.

  BRAD: Well she knows more than you do. Please explain.