Tag: #humor

Chance Meeting at the Mall

Chance Meeting at the Mall

It began when I saw her in the upper-level of the Brighton Mall. She placed her paper bag of purchases on the floor next to her cushioned seat. Avoiding her was not an option as the sitting area was in my path to the escalator.

Of course, you would know, she was beautiful as she sat and shook her head to resettle her long lovely raven curls. She was dressed in lovely colors of Ivory and Lavender, a dress sheer and clinging – like, my eyes at that moment.

My mind did its calculations…do I just stop, sit in the chair next to her, begin a conversation. What do I say as an opener? Her left hand was gloved so, married or not, I was ‘flying in the blind’. It was one of those fateful moments in life where one must decide to act or not to act, with the haunting of the latter lingering forever in the mind… I decided to act.

I sat in the chair next to her. There were other chairs in the grouping, but other shoppers were passing, chatting, and I wanted to be close so as not having to increase the decibel level of my voice.

Please, allow me to pause and explain…

First, my name is Lawrence Wallenby, just, Larry, will do, and I’m a trim six-footer who stays in shape by jogging and exercising – which once, in starting out, was a chore, but, now, something I look forward to. I’m told by some of my staff at the Agency that I bear the looks of actor Matthew McConaughey. That’s good, I think, because I like his acting.

I am not a ‘stalker’ who frequents shopping malls for women to meet and harass. I am a responsible male person who owns his own small advertising enterprise, growing by leaps and bounds, I might add. I am a man who some months ago lost his wife to a drunk driver in a head-on collision. Both were killed, and I had my days, weeks, and months to damn the fiddlers of fate who perform these acts so people can grieve and crawl into themselves and become inoperably viable. So, time did not, would not heal the wound of losing Diana, but, at least, it would have the courtesy to allow the ‘devastation’ period to pass – to the point of having needs to fulfill.

May I apologize if this preceding acknowledgement is not enough a prelude to what I’m about to narrate for you. Suffice, Diana is still in a precious vault of my heart, but I’ve come to realize that life does indeed go on and old needs come rushing back in need of fulfilling.

The handsome lady with the raven hair, soft blue eyes, and most luscious lips glanced up at me with an awkward, almost, smile, and then went quickly back to a piece of paper on her lap – presumably, a ‘shopping list’.

“Holiday shopping can be a real ‘bear’, don’t you think?” Without giving her a chance to answer, I pressed forward. “Of course, you do. You’re sitting here, resting, so, obviously, shopping ergo is a ‘bear’ or your choice of animal. I know you are wondering who the ‘nut’ is sitting next to you, and I implore you not to get up and leave with my muttering hanging in the air. Really, I’m not so great at this, but I do honestly and sincerely believe you are the most beautiful lady I’ve seen in my lifetime. Is it okay that we might meet? Please.”

“Wow, you should take a breath between syllables. You’ll pass out, I’m thinking. Sure, why not? We’re in a public arena here, people passing by, and you don’t seem to be carrying weapons of any kind. So, sure, let’s ‘meet’. I’m Diana Bixley.”

“No, no, you can’t be… I mean, your first name – pick another first name!”

“I’m sorry. Now, you’re confusing me. I thought your little rushed ‘pick-up’ line was cute, but…are you some kind of nut?”

“Oh, no, no. I’m so sorry to blunder like this. Your first name, Diana, is a beautiful name, and you should keep it. Of course, she should and will keep it, you idiot. Again, sorry, but I lost my wife to a drunk driver about a year ago, and her name was Diana.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“No, no, don’t be. I’ve gone through the periods of loss and find that I still wish to go on, but I’ve been with no one for that period of time and very likely don’t know how to act properly. May I start again? My name is Larry Wallenby, and, when I saw you, my heart did little ‘flip-flops’ and I had to meet you. Please, is that okay? I mean, that I had to meet you?”

“Relax, Larry, I’m happy to meet you, and I’m sorry about your wife.”

She offered her hand which I swiftly but softly clutched for some two or three seconds before releasing.

“Are you encumbered?” Too fast, too fast, you dummy.

“I beg your pardon.”

“I’m sorry, again, Diana, but I’m such a ‘Klutz’ at this. Are you married, going steady with anyone?”

“You’re fast, Larry, but I suppose that comes from your loss and grief period. I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but, no, I’m not married, not going steady with anyone.”

My heart-beat got faster. Now, don’t screw this up, Larry. Take a shot, but slow down the process. You got the answer you wanted. There’s a chance, so don’t screw it up.

“Do you have children, Diana?”

“No, I’m not too big on kids. They annoy me, mostly. I’m sure I did my annoyance bit as a kid. You have kids, Larry?”

“No, no kids. No animals of any kind, although I love Golden Retrievers. You like animals?”

“Not so much. Better than kids, but the ‘clean-up’ and routines would drive me nuts. Your business keep you busy, Larry?”

“As much as I allow it to keep me busy. I’ve got some good people working at the ad agency that keep the load off me. What do you do, Diana?”

“I’m an actress and model, Larry. I’ve done nothing memorable in film that you would remember seeing. Most of my action is in modeling and ‘specialty films’.”

“You enjoy what you do, Diana?”

“Very much so, Larry. You?”

“Yeah. I was drawn to advertising at a young age for some reason, likely because my Dad had a ‘Billboard’ business. I was fascinated enough by it to take all the courses relative to advertising while in the university environment. The business has been good for me. The people who work with me free me up to pursue other interests, like traveling to exotic places. Do you travel a lot in your business, Diana?”

“Too much, actually. I don’t like airport waits and all the security crap one has to go through anymore… I notice you have no packages, Larry. Are you not shopping? Did you just come to the mall to meet me?”

“Well, while that’s a nice thought, I did plan to pick up some items for my sister and my staff, but now it’s not so important. I can put it off ‘til another day. That is, if I can talk you into cocktails and dinner.”

“That sounds wonderful, Larry. And, what would your plans be after our dinner?”

Hey, she’s playing right into my hand. How can I get so lucky? Hell, I’ll lay it out for her.

“Well, to be honest, Diana, I thought we could go to my place, have nightcaps, listen to some romantic music, turn the lights down low, and see where it all would lead us.”

“Larry, you scoundrel! You do work fast. However, I’m afraid I would spoil your plans.”

“I doubt that, Diana. You’re so beautiful, and I’m sure we would get along just fine.”

Oh, she’s getting up, reaching for her shopping bags.

“Thank you, Larry, for the dinner and romance offer, but I will pass and just say, ‘nice meeting you’.”

“But, Diana, I thought…”

“You thought, what, Larry?”

“I thought we were bonding nicely…”

“By bonding, you mean you thought I would jump in the sack with you, correct?”

“Well, I’m sorry, but I thought we were heading toward something really romantic and beautiful.”

“Really?” She stood and for a moment hovered over me.

I stood and faced her.

“Was it something I said, Diana?”

“No, it was something I did not say, Larry…”

“And, what was it you did not say, Diana?”

“Well, if I say it, no longer will it be not said, Larry.”

She started to walk away.

“Diana, please, tell me what was not said.”

She looked back at me, and, with a slight raise of brow and grin, said, “I like to go to bed with women, Larry…nice meeting you.

Damn, it ended where it started!

Flash Fiction by Billy Ray Chitwood – January 21, 2019

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Winter’s Lassitude

Winter’s Lassitude

Perhaps it’s the winter days that has me in this patch of lassitude, here in the pale used-up corn stalks of boredom, where words won’t form and thoughts come in slow motion and without any great desire to be fulfilled. The sunny day falls on a layer of snow and cannot alter the artic bite in the air, yet without the glowing essence of a clear day, I might very well give way to purposeless stagnation.

I want to write, to create a marvelous ‘flash fiction’ piece, a poem of praise for the deity that claims my being, yet, the torpidity seems all-consuming and bids me crank up the leg-rest of my Lazy boy and wile away the day with patches of slumber. But I fight the off-kilter feelings and press on with words that might or might not warrant any qualitative analysis. So, I cling to the notion that out of the lazy meandering the Gods on Mt. Olympus might bring life to my fingers as they tap onward the laptop keys.

Wouldst I write about the political nonsense that is frightfully ambiguous and bordering on insanity? God, forbid! My takeaway from the blabber would be of no import and would only show my informed but unpolished political leanings that would please some and anger others. No politics, thank you very much…

What, then, Lazybones?

I shall try a poem for my good followers and then put the day away marked as ‘non-essential’ and ‘lethargic’!

Here, then, is the poem…ah, what name shall I give it? Ah, yes…

Wasted Day

How does one forfeit a day?

Wasted but adorned beautifully

By Sunshine and snow?

Tis a mindless pity to waste

So much energy and time

To say, ‘I don’t know’!

The blog and book must wait

Until tomorrow comes

For an intellectual glow!

After all, words are cheap

And book sales are small

So much for my folio!

One day, surely, I can miss.

My brain can use the rest

Tis no huge fiasco.

Tomorrow, then, I shall

Write a #1 bestseller

And all the world will crow.

*

And so be it this Tuesday morning in January.

Billy Ray Chitwood – January 22, 2019

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“Ma”

“Ma, Pa wants to seeya down at the barn…”

“Ma, didn’t ya heah me? Pa wants to seeya down at the barn?”

“Ma, stop staring off in the distance thar, Ma… Doggone it, Ma, stop churning Old Bessie’s milk and makin yur butter… Pa wants to seeya down at the barn. Pa sent me to tellya, Ma.”

“Ma, you alright? You scuring me, Ma! You in one a’them trances?”

“Homer, why yu tuchin my knee? Yu scured me, boy. I was athinkin ’bout Pa, when he was younger and we wur coortin. Ah, he was sum kinda hansum, Homer… Well, whatta ya want, Homer?”

“I tolya three-four times already, Ma. Pa wants you down at the barn.”

“Well, why is he wantun me, Homer?”

“I dunno, Ma, but that fool mule, ‘Fred’, just stepped on Pa’s foot and Pa’s setting rite in the middle of a pile of ‘Fred’s’ wastings.”

“My Lordie be! You telling me your Pa fell into ‘Fred’s’ number two?”

“That’s what I’m tellinya, Ma, and Pa ain’t too happy ’bout it, I can tellya that! He’s madder than a fit of hornets.”

“Well, Homer, you go tell yur Pa to just set easy – tee hee – and I’ll be thar as soon as this churning’s done. I’ll bring water and clean ‘im up. Git along now.”

“But, Ma, Pa needs ya noaw!”

“Hush, now, Homer, don’t yu be sassin me. Git on, now, and tell yur Pa I’m on my way reel soon. Go on noaw, I’m almost finished with this here churnin!”

Ma broke out laffing as Homer broke out running back to the barn.

Billy Ray Chitwood – For Linda’s SoSC Saturday – December 1, 2018

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“Role and Roll”

stream-of-consciousness-saturday-2018-19

“Role and Roll”

(Not to be confused with: ‘Rock and Roll’)

“Have you ever eaten a roll while playing a role?”

“What! Ah, you’re doing another one of Linda’s ‘prompt’ things, right? Role and roll, right?”

“Well, yeah! So, I know you were an actor…did you ever eat a roll while playing a role?”

“Yeah, I ate a roll while playing a role! Now, can I get back to my book?”

“The book you’re writing! You write about the rolls you ate while playing your roles?”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake! You’re bound to do this, interrupt me with your stupid ‘prompt’ for role and roll… No, I don’t write about the rolls I ate while playing my roles! Now, put a roll in your mouth and play the role of quiet mouse!”

“I know what you’re doing! You’re playing a role, being mad at me, right? Here, have a cinnamon/raisin roll!”

“I’m going to throttle you! You’re just trying to roll over me with this role-playing crap. You do this every week when Linda does her prompts! And, you play this role every week! AND, no, I don’t want your cinnamon/raisin roll…and, dammit, I like my cinnamon/raisin rolls with a glass of milk…”

“Okay, okay! If you’re going to play this role with me, I’ll get you a glass of milk to go with your cinnamon/raisin roll.”

“Give me a really tall glass of milk for these three cinnamon/raisin rolls I’m going to eat for this stupid role I’m playing.”

“Really! Three cinnamon/raisin rolls! My role only calls for you to eat one, because I like cinnamon/raisin rolls, too, a lot, and I only made six!”

“That’s it, this role-playing has got to stop. My three rolls for YOUR role-playing still leaves you three rolls to eat. It’s a small price for you to pay, interrupting my important writing role. The cinnamon/raisin rolls are good, but no more ‘Linda Prompts” while I’m in my writing role. I appreciate your rolls, but I’ve got to get back into this writing role. Kabish, Kook?”

“Well, if you’re going to be crude and rude, I’m taking my rolls and leaving for brighter roles people will play when I engage them.”

“Now you’re talking, Sylvester! Leaving my writing room so I can eat my cinnamon/raisin rolls while in my writing role is the best news I’ve had for ten minutes!”

“You think we did enough role-playing for Linda’s prompt, Homer? Here, take my third roll! I just dropped it on the floor.”

“Dropped it on the floor! Well, that roll can’t be that badly soiled, as long as the cats haven’t been up to their roles of leaving cat-hair and dead little bugs on the floor… I’m impressed with your Chef-role, Sylvester…go make some more cinnamon/raisin rolls.”

(Under his breath) “Geez, you’d think the prompt was ‘cinnamon/raisin rolls’!”

Billy Ray Chitwood – November 17, 2018

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Bad Day on the Laptop

Bad Day on the Laptop

May I say? In all humility, the digital world truly sucks!

The digital world is like a zany puzzle that doesn’t know what it wants to be, crossword or otherwise. How many frigging minds are destroyed by its wacky configurations? I Hate You, Internet! In all humility!

It is as though those who put all the strange turns and twists to this digital empire smile with elitist glee because THEY KNOW what it’s all about, and everyone outside their ranks will have to pay dearly for their knowledge, like, buying a brand new laptop every year because of its promise to do more than the one you just bought six months ago…you Idiot! Me, Idiot! You, Tarzan, big man!

Yes, it’s a frigging elite club to whom only those who have bizarre technical skills can belong. All others: here, have some scraps of our earlier too mucky bulky, too easy gizmos with which we can no longer torment you; here, you poor saps who put up with the gyrations, constant aggravations, try these new and better applications, add more to your insane cravings; here, you dumb non-nerds, have an elixir WE put together just for you, an ‘SEO Friendly Content Download’ to go with your WORD PROGRAM – you will love it! Oh, AND good luck downloading it with all our (heh, heh!) easy as pie explanations. (Heh, heh!)

May I say, ‘Go to HELL with your satanic torturing of one’s mind and ego. Up yours! I can’t be more hostile because the frigging ‘Space Cadet Internet Cops’ will come and put me out of my misery.

May I say, ‘Up your YING-YANGS, you merciless bunch of societal rejects. May all your stupid circuit boards turn on you and make you the morons you’ve tried to make me! Oh, hell, who am I kidding! the moron you’ve made me!

AND, for those of you who somehow kept your sanity and mastered this damned time-consuming nano-piece of nothing and walk around acting like ‘know-it-alls’ with smiles on your stupid faces, up yours, too!

May I say, I hate you!

AND, will the ‘Internet Ward Nurse’ take this damned straightjacket off me? It’s difficult typing with my proboscis!

Hate You!

Hate You!

Hate You!

Billy Ray Chitwood – November 15, 2018

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Man in a Tree

Man in a Tree

“Stop the car, Lewis!”

“Geez, Alan, not so damned loud. What? What’s wrong?”

“The man in a tree. Didn’t you see him? He’s pretty high up, and there’s no way I can see that he can get down.”

“Well, I am driving and my eyes are on the road, Alan.”

“Yeah, I know, Lewis. Sorry, didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. Just wait, the guy could be in trouble. Please, back up and park at the curb. I’ll be right back.”

“But, Alan, we’ll be late for our tee-time… Don’t slam the door! ‘Okay, slam the damned door! Geez, like talking to air, that guy! Back up and park at the curb’. Sure, Alan, anything you say, Alan. You’re the boss, Alan’.”

“Hey, Mister, you alright up there? Do you need some help? How did you get up there? Man, you’re maybe fifteen feet from the ground. There’s no ladder down here. There’s nothing down here … HEY, can’t you hear me? I’m screaming down here.”

“I can hear you fine, young man. What’s your name?”

“My name’s Alan. Can you tell me where you keep the ladder? I’ll get it, and you can come down from up there.”

“No, I’m fine up here, Alan. It’s kind of you to stop and be concerned. People are not so concerned these days. You’re a kind man.”

“What’s your name, may I ask?”

“Sure. My name’s Albert.”

“How did you get up there, Albert?”

“I used my ladder.”

“Well, where did your ladder go, Albert?”

“Ellen took the ladder, Alan.”

“Well, my good Lord, why did she take the ladder away, Albert?”

“Oh, she got mad at me because I wanted to go fishing. We argued a spell, and she told me to go ‘climb a tree’ and that’s what I did. I got the ladder to reach the first limb, then used the other limbs to get higher. It’s actually pretty nice up here.”

“Well, hell, Albert, you can’t stay up there. You’re not a young man. You could get dizzy and fall. I’ll go to your door and get Ellen to show me where the ladder is.”

“No, no, don’t do that, son. She’s a might set in her ways, and I don’t want to cause you no trouble. You seem like a nice young man. Why’d you stop, anyhow?”

“I saw you in the tree, Alan, and you have to admit it’s unusual to see a man your age sitting up there all by yourself. And, you can’t get down without that ladder, Alan. The tree has too much girth for you to be able to shimmy down it. I’ll go to the door and talk to Ellen.”

“I prefer you not do that, Alan. Now you just go on about your business. It looks like you have golf gear on, so go play your round of golf, and don’t fret for a minute about me.”

“Well, I just can’t do that, Albert. I would worry about you all day. Are you…I mean, is your…that is, are you thinking straight, Abert?”

“Oh, I see what you might be thinking, Alan. No, my brain power is still there, I don’t have that ‘Alzheimers-stuff’, but I tell you one thing, it’s sure good to see that people can still try to do the right things for others… Now, listen up, I like my women ‘fat’ and tough as nails. Well, I got one of those in that shingled house over there, and she is one big ‘Wo-man’. If you go to that door, ring the buzzer, she’ll come to the door ‘a-hooten and a-holleren’, and she could be carrying, if you know what I mean… Like, right now, that friend in the car is tooten that horn too much, and that could get her angry…”

“Oh, don’t worry about us, Albert. My worry is about you, I’ve got to get you out of that Sugar Maple before you fall and hurt yourself. I’ll take my chances with Ellen.”

“Well, son, you go ahead and do what you’re thinking and I’m trying my best to tell you truthfully what’s going to happen, and the aftermath of your action.”

“Alan, in these few seconds here with you, I feel really close to you, which makes it all the tougher to leave you sitting up there in that darn tree. I’m off to see Ellen.”

“Well, you have a good heart, son, but I’m telling you – there just ain’t enough room up here for both of us.”

(Tick-Tock)

“Well, she ran that friend of yours off pretty fast, Alan. You can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Will she be serving us cocktails and dinner up here, Albert?”

A Light Flash Fiction Moment from: Billy Ray Chitwood – October, 2018

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A Hasty ‘Live-In’

The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS Sept. 22/18  LindaGHill

Prompt for #SoCS Sept. 22/18  LindaGHill

 Prompt words-Flour and Flower-

“A Hasty Live-In”

“Hi, Judy Lou, that your travel bag at the door?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“You going somewhere?”

“Alreddy got here. Gonna spin tha weekend with yu an Suzy Mae.”

“Oh, you are, huh …umm…where is Suzy Mae?”

“She’s in the kitchen. She’s fixin sumthin you like, I theenk! Rekin you air glad ta-be home from work, huh, , Sam?”

“Yeah, I’m glad, Judy Lou. Well, you keep watching television, Judy, and I’ll go see Suzie, okay?”

“Shore, it’s okay. It’s yur partment, ain’t it?”

“Well, yes it is! Oh, there were flowers in a vase on that end-table. You know where those flowers are, Judy Lou?”

“No, I don’t, Sam. I shore diden takem.”

“Oh, I know you wouldn’t take them, Judy Lou. Okay, guess Suzy Mae put them somewhere else. You go ahead and watch television, Judy.”

(*Sam walks into the kitchen*)

“What’s that smell, Suzy Mae?”

“Oh, yor home early, Sam. That smell’s yur dinner and it’s almost dun. I fixed that Tenasee gulosh resapee you gave me. You wanna a lil taste afore I dish up? Now, it’s hot! So be curful!”

(*Sam tastes a spoonful of the goulash*)

“Well, you know, it’s … ouch! … what’s this sharp little thing that’s in that goulash?”

“Well, I rekin it’s from the flours, Sam. How’s it taste?”

“It doesn’t ‘taste’, Suzy Mae! It hurts! It pricked my tongue! Did you say, flowers, Suzy?”

“Yep, at’s what I sed ! Whatta yu meen, Sam, it priked you tongue! Jus how air yu  meening that, Sam? ”

“Suzy! Suzy Mae, stop stirring that pot for a minute! You telling me you put flowers in that goulash, those beautiful flowers I brought home last night?”

“Well, yeow, but I put’em in that blender afore I put’em in the pot. That’s what you told me ta put in the stew/”

“No, Suzy, you were supposed to put flour, f-l-o-u-r, in the goulash, not, flower, f-l-o-w-e-r! Those were artificial flowers, Suzy! That’s just crazy, Suzy Mae!”

“Well, I thaught that’s whot you wanted, Sam, Dam! Now, yor mad at me.”

“Now, stop crying, Suzy Mae, it’s alright! Just a mistake on my part. It’s okay! Stop crying, now! Know what, I’ll take you and Judy Lou out to dinner. We’ll go and have some Kentucky Fried Chicken. How’s that?”

“You ain’t mad at me nun? I Iuv that Kentuckee fried chicken, Sam! I’m shor soree bout the flours, Sam, that prik an all … wotevur yur meenin is!”

“No, I’m not mad at you, Suzy! Here, let me turn the stove off, and we’ll go upstairs and get ready to go out for dinner…come on, now.”

(‘Man, if she wasn’t built like Gina Lollobrigida, I wouldn’t be coming home from work tomorrow!)

Billy Ray Chitwood – 9/22/18

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