I had a package delivery today My neck collar/embracement But more important: Thank You Cards—Blank I filled out three: One for that dude who helped me into my house last week when I was so ‘shaky.’ One for Deb—Hotel Management, Warden And of course one for, the main one of course … for Cynthia— Walking Boss I shouted her down as she was making her rounds Asked her to deliver my cards. Then gave her hers. She threw her arms about my neck. (No! No WuFlu Masks–Here in Tejas, we be keepin’ it real)
(Masks? We don’t need no masks, nor any stinking WuFlu Vaccines badges!)
While Locked in her embrace I said, “You know I love you.” She said, “I love you more.” Then she untangled herself from me and walked away.
I still can smell her perfume on my shirt...Hours later.
I Love To Laugh (at me) And My Chasing at Sobriety
“Hey Lance! What would you do if you ever caught the Sobriety Bus?”
“Burn my nose on the tail-pipe–I don’t know–haven’t thought it through.”
******
(Ed. Note: The Bob Marley Vid ain’t Necessary, nor requisite. But I find it a ‘Nice Touch.’ Watch it if you want. Don’t if you don’t.)
“Totally ”Down-Stroyed'” I love a play on words!
(When it works…)
*****
So I discover a small lake in my ‘Head’—Bathroom. “Whatever does this mean?” I asked the Resident Gnat Watch-keeper. “You’re the Fucking Genius, Tell Us.” he replied.
I scoped it out.
Sure as shit, The Shitter was leaking out of its ass. I closed the water supply, emptied the basin, found some towels, threw same upon the floor. Went back to my neglected beer.
Then came a knocking upon my door… “Mister Marcom, is there a leak in your bathroom? Water water everywhere in this hall.” Deb said. I replied, “Uh, Yeah, but I fixed it.”
(Don’t want no trouble)
Deb said, “I’ll send Cynthia around to check it out. My ‘Guy’ isn’t here today.”
(Shit!)
Presently, My Love, My Cynthia, arrives.
“How you doin’ Baby?” (She always calls me ‘Baby’—It is a ‘Black Woman Thing’)
“I’m Fine Baby.”
(I can do ‘Black Woman’ vernacular too)
“Y’all got a leak?” “Yeah, it’s the toilet, but I ‘fixed’ it. Turned off the water and emptied it.” “So, you need a new toilet?” “I suppose.” “Okay Baby. Tomorrow…” “Cheers Baby. And Thank you. Ciou”
And she left.
Now I have something to look forward to: Some smelly fat white-guy Plumber invading my Sanatorium to replace my toilet and displace what little concentration I have left.
(As an Old–Fat, Smelly White Guy Myself–I know far too well, the Breed, and what to expect.)
There are no less than thirty empty wine boxes in my head. Curious as to how ‘Plumber Man’ will deal with them…
