Pops Stories

How About That

2009-02-08T00:43:00.000-06:00

Well, I didn’t get any comments but did get a few emails. They say my post was fine so my confidence is higher now.
+/-Expand/Shrink Post

My new reader has a word mode in addition to a character mode for use as I type. It waits for a space or punctuation and reads the word back to me. With a hotkey I can also have it read the last sentence. Pretty handy.

Nothing holding me back now.

I’m going to publish a partial story – just put it out there for comments or critiques. Not sure I like it but for the most part I don’t like anything I write.

It’s the next post labeled draft.

Draft One - The Old Man of Monroe Street

2009-02-08T00:40:00.000-06:00

He wondered why most people avoided him.
+/-Expand/Shrink Post

He tried to always be cheerful and to trade greetings with his fellow citizens whenever he saw them.

But he guessed the sight of an old man, even though he was not quite sixty yet, walking, more like stumbling, along the sidewalks wearing dark sunglasses and constantly looking around might make people wonder.

He always carried a thick piece of dowel rod about four feet long. He carried it for several reasons.

First, he used it as a blind stick to find curbs or jutting concrete slabs to prevent accidents and to climb stairs since neither of his legs liked stairs.

Second, it helped steady his unusual gait. His hips were flaky and his leg muscles were not dependable. Many times one or the other would give out for a second and throw him to one side or the other. He used the dowel rod as a cane.

Third, the dowel rod protected him. It was hard oak and better then a baseball bat to scare off the would be muggers. Three times would be robbers had been introduced to his dowel rod.

Once he was sure he broke the robber’s wrist holding the knife.

Another time the young kid heard the rod whipping through the air at his body and he ran away cussing.

The youngster stood just out of reach waving his gun telling the old man how he was going to hurt him.

A witness said the old man just laughed and watched the kid try to run from the police his cell phone had summoned.

A taser gun found its mark and it was said the old man made fun of the kid and taunted him resulting in at least one other jolt from the taser.

The news of the incidents traveled around the neighborhood and he didn’t have any problems until early one morning when during a walk around the block a middle aged man on drugs tried to rob him.

The man delivering the morning papers witnessed the robbery. The drug user pretended to have a gun in his pocket. The old man pretended he was playing golf or baseball or break the piñata and scored a direct hit to the druggie’s privates.

When his assailant hit the ground the old man laid his dowel rod across the idiot’s throat at an angle, held one end in his hand and put his foot on the dowel rod effectively trapping the would be robber.

In court the judge asked how long the old man had held him down and the witness giggled saying he took his foot off every minute or so to kick, like he had a cramp.

When the idiot drug user got on the stand he told the judge that someone was choking him and when that pressure ended someone kicked him in the privates taking his breath away again.

The judge had to hide his laugh and then asked the idiot if he was now admitting he was at the scene. After another ten minutes and a conference with his appointed attorney he pleaded guilty and the judge sentenced him to ten years.

The old man got a warning too but it was not on the record. The judge told him where to get a really nice cane for cheap and how the handle made a nice tool to ‘hook’ a robbers private area.

He warned the old man if he tried to bring his dowel rod back into the court house he might end up in jail.

The next time the old man needed assistance it came from an unexpected source. But first some more about the old man’s life.

The old man had suffered several heart attacks, the insertion of a stent into a blocked main artery, rotator cuff surgery that put him out of commission for six months and finally open heart surgery that he could never quite recover from. All this in a five year period.

He also had exercised induced asthma, chronic bronchitis and COPD. IF he got too hot his lungs tried to shutdown. Many times he had passed out from lack of oxygen when he overheated.

It was agreed his three pack a day habit for several years had caused his breathing problems but a year after kicking the habit he still had major problems that he had not had before heart surgery.

His hardened arteries, heart problems and high cholesterol were called hereditary but the old man blamed them on his poor diet and the tobacco.

He also blamed the Type II diabetes on his life style but one doctor thought he had been diabetic for several years saying it explained his nerve damage – the doctor thought his condition had just been missed by other doctors.

The old man accepted this as part of life. But the one thing, the only thing that scared him became a reality a year after they cracked his chest.

He started losing his sight. His left eye had been troublesome for many years. At first his doctor could not explain it but he finally decided that the old man’s shingles were causing the problem.

Whenever he had an extensive outbreak of shingles, the sight in his left eye would darken to almost complete blindness and he had an intense disabling pain behind his left eye.

His right eye kept him functional and he had acclimated to his one-eyed condition. But a year after open heart surgery his right eye would change from day to day. He could not focus on anything some days and others he could read a license plate from a block away.

His doctor suggested it was his diabetes. The old man remembered when he first started his diabetes medicine and made changes his diet. He had to get two different prescriptions for glasses in as many months as his body chemistry changed.

When the doctor finally changed his daily regimen to insulin, first slow acting then adding quick acting his vision became even more undependable.

It finally got to the point that he was no longer able to drive. After several months of depending upon his daughter for bi-weekly grocery shopping and the bus system for getting to other appointments he got on the wrong bus at the transfer point and ended up a few blocks from home. He could read the street signs but he did not recognize the street names or know exactly where he was at. Cell phone calls to his daughter and son did not help.

He finally came across another person on the sidewalk that was able to point him in the right direction.

He started taking daily walks around the block to hone his ability to recognize his surroundings and try to prevent getting lost again.

Winter was coming. As long as he rode the right buses he would be dropped off right across the street from his cheap upstairs apartment but sometimes his destinations were a few blocks from the bus stop. He had to be able to maneuver without getting lost.

His walks were an escape of sorts from the prison his apartment had become. And he hoped that he would be able to make his body function better with exercise and possibly relieve some of his health issues.

For several months he had only left his apartment when his daughter took him for groceries – some times she did the grocery shopping when he was unable to do it himself. Then it would be a month that he did not leave his apartment.

Usually he could be found in front of his computer – one monitor running the screen magnifier to help him ‘see’ the other screen where he read some websites and wrote stories.

He also had a screen reader program that would ‘read’ whatever he copied into it and another program that spoke what he typed letter by letter or word by word.

He had yet to find an email program that his magnifier or screen readers worked with so his communication was limited.

He had started a couple of blogs to record his stories and memories but he was still limited in his communications. He did not want his relatives to know how helpless he could be at times.

And when his joints started to ache from sitting in one place too long or the pain behind his eye or on his left side became unbearable, he would crawl into bed for short naps. He had not slept more then four hours in a row since his heart surgery.

His left leg would start to ache without warning. Extreme pain that felt like his leg was on fire. His entire left side, numb since his heart surgery, would start to wake up from being numb and drive him crazy until finally returning to its numb state.

When he touched his left side it would feel like he was touching someone else. He did not feel his own fingers.

He had to be careful as he did not feel heat or cold or someone or something touching him on the left side.

But he had adapted to his new limitations and was able to function for the most point.

Luckily he had a knack for remembering things. Like which buttons on the remotes turned on the TV and changed channels. He normally did not have the TV on since he could not see it but he did ‘listen’ to the audio portion through his surround sound.

He had found a website listing the TV schedules and was able to ‘listen’ to his favorite shows. His biggest problem was knowing what day of the week it was and some times even what time it was.

He found a computer program that spoke the time every half hour or on demand. But for some reason the program kept disappearing from the lower left of his screen.

Until he could find it again he sometimes only knew the time by listening to the radio and waiting for the news.

Then he found a gadget that ran under Google desktop that was a life saver. It was an analog clock that could cover the entire screen. Using the magnifier he could ‘see’ the time. It also listed the date and day of week.

But the best part was being able to call it up with a hotkey and dismiss it with the same.

He also discovered Google reader and no longer needed to visit the websites – the reader ‘found’ the stories for him.

Then he found books indexed under Google that another old program from Microsoft could read to him. He was content but still missed communication with people.

This caused him to withdraw but he found he actually liked it. He had always hated to depend upon anyone for anything. Sometimes he would go for the two weeks between grocery runs and not say a word – even to himself.

This also suggests that no one called on the phone. That would be a good observation. He only called when absolutely necessary again not wanting to bother anyone.

It might seem odd that he had no friends but that was not always the case. In fact he was the reason none of his friends contacted him.

When he met his second wife he moved about a hundred miles away. He brought his new girlfriend, one of only three his friends had met in fifteen years, back to meet his friends and they all seem to like her.

But whenever he tried to invite people over for a weekend or to meet them at the middle point between the two towns for dinner he never got a positive response.

He concluded that these were not real friends. Only one tried to contact him the first Christmas he was gone but that person used a cell phone number that he had quit using several months prior. The old mad did not get the message until early spring and a return call ended up at a disconnected number.

He had returned to town a few times and even stopped by the old watering holes but he never ran into any of his old ‘friends’, not even the same bartenders. The old man was surprised – he had only been gone for two years but everyone seemed to have moved on.

At his current position in life he had very few occasions to meet people let alone any contact time to make friends.

He had settled into his private singularly populated world and made the best of it.

His next door neighbor had two cats and a beagle. He had made friends with the animals and had a few talks with the neighbor lady but she was busy with work and raising two girls and the animals.

On his walks he had met several people walking their dogs and had made friends with the dogs and at least exchanged pleasantries with the humans.

He even tracked time because there was one lady that if she saw him leaving she would just happen to be waiting for him as he turned the last corner. He did not like her – she was a gossip and busy body and lonely because her own personality sucked.

He knew she could not ‘meet’ him if it was after 1 PM because her mother would have retuned from therapy and needing all her attention.

Other times he simply walked a block farther and came home the way he went effectively getting to his steps before she saw him.

But otherwise he just roamed the streets. The bus route that went past his house simply made a circle to the end if the near west side then returned to the transfer point.

A bus route one block north took him to the west mall and streets with business he could use.

Two blocks north was a route that covered the entire western side of the city after dark.

And three blocks south was a route that would take him to the southern part of town if he needed to.

His objective was to become familiar with all these bus routes so that he would hopefully still have some mobility if/when he lost his vision completely.

He could still see large objects and could tell the difference between a man or woman, teen or child and animals even though he might not be able to see enough detail to identify them.

Along his many routes were many fenced front yards and what he laughingly referred to as guard dogs although most would run and hide if he acted aggressive.

Almost all of them would let him pet them after a few visits. But there were three dogs at a corner house with a fenced yard that simply did not like him.

They would bark continuously until he left their fence. He stopped and talked to them every time and after several months they would bark until he started to talk.

Then they would sit and listen but their tails were not wagging and when he continued his walk the barking started again.

Their owner had come out a few times and said no one had ever made friends with them. He didn’t know why but in a way he was glad. His home was one of the few that had not been broken into.

The neighborhood homes had been converted to multiple apartments and undesirables had taken up residence.

The neighbor watch officer had taught them how to spot drug activity and it had not taken long for most of the drug sales to stop but the users were still there and did not care what they took as long as they got their next fix.

Several neighbors had come home to empty porches and patios but no one had spied the thieves.

So the neighborhood was not as safe as it looked but keeping track of your surroundings, owning a dog and carrying a big stick seemed to keep most people safe.

During his walks he also ran into the same people working out is their yards or taking their own walks. He learned where many people lived and occasionally he would see them needing assistance with heavy bags or moving something. He always helped when possible

Many offered money as a tip for helping but he always turned them down. On the days he became disorientated just the sound of their voice told him where he was at.

Sunset From Yesterday Two

2009-02-08T00:01:00.002-06:00

I really like the blue in the upper left of this one.
+/-Expand/Shrink Post

Why I’m Not Writing

2009-02-07T21:00:00.001-06:00

Sorry friends, fellow bloggers and readers who lurk but keep coming back for more.
+/-Expand/Shrink Post

I have been having one hell of a time with my eyes. Recently I only get about thirty minutes a day of partial sight and sometimes not even that.

The things I MUST do take more then thirty minutes so some things have to suffer.

Like writing stories – actually the writing is easy, it is the editing that is difficult - and making my computer behave. I kept losing my screen reader. It disappeared and I was not sure if it I was the cause or if the program has a bug when I use my word processor.

Today I found another reader that actually has a voice that is not irritating as Microsoft Sam.

In fact it has a female voice – I always liked it when a female talked to me – especially if she whispered – and this one can.

This will be my first attempt to post without physically seeing it in a very large size. I’ve ‘heard’ it three times but how many times have I thought I heard something.

If it is totally screwed up, please leave a comment.

I’ve been losing my sight for about three years now and I have used that time to practice when I complete lose it.

Let’s see how well I am doing – pun intended.

Sunset From Yesterday

2009-02-07T17:29:00.004-06:00

Here's the sunset from yesterday. The colors kept changing as I snapped frames - this one I liked the best.
+/-Expand/Shrink Post

Personality Test Mentioned at Sweetney's Blog

2009-01-25T23:28:00.006-06:00

Took a personality test tonight after reading a post at Sweetney's Blog

The test at http://www.kisa.ca/personality did not take long. The results follow...
+/-Expand/Shrink Post

Test Results

Your personality type is ISTP.

Introverted (I) 71% Extraverted (E) 29%
Sensing (S) 64% Intuitive (N) 36%
Thinking (T) 55% Feeling (F) 45%
Perceiving (P) 55% Judging (J) 45%

Guess I better go read the rest of the stuff to see how ~~fucked~~ screwed up I am.

Sunset2009Jan

2009-01-24T22:50:00.003-06:00

Took this out a window - didn't even open the window.

This was the ending to a beautiful January day.

My Favorite Acting Stage: The Bar Chapter Six

2009-01-18T11:18:00.004-06:00

Read Chapter Five

Here’s what really happened.
+/-Expand/Shrink Post

When we got in the backroom she whispered I was going to be really embarrassed but it was necessary.

After a few moments she asked loudly what the hell was wrong. Did she not do it right? Why did I not respond?

At the same time she was pulling my zipper down. I was not sure what to think.

I tried to think of the most embarrassing moment of my life and decided it was probably now.

She told me later my face was bright red and the act of pulling my zipper up as I walked back out to the bar was perfect.

The couple and the bartender were calling me bad names. They were not happy.

I followed Jane out the front door. She was almost a half block ahead. When she heard me behind her she ducked into a doorway. When I saw her she was laughing hard and holding herself like she had to pee.

She threw her arms around me and said that was perfect but we were not quite done. She slapped her hands together and went running across the street right in front of a car.

I came out holding the side of my face and yelling for her to be careful. She went down the street next to her warehouse and once we were out of site she opened a door with a key and we disappeared just as we heard someone yell.

She ran for another door and I followed listening to her laugh. She disappeared behind the door and I followed just in time to see her go through another door.

As soon as I pushed it opened I saw her bent over with pants down and I backed out. But first I told her I liked her butt. She just laughed.

Within seconds she came out and said that we could leave town now. I started to ask why but she placed a finger over my lips and said later.

She went to her bedroom and grabbed a bag. Together we walked to my rental car and she hunkered down in the seat and asked that I park somewhere people would not be able to see her.

I parked in the underground garage right across from the elevators and cleaned out my room and paid my bill.

When I got back to the car she was napping and did not fully awake until I entered the airport.

I got her a ticket and she started asking questions about home and the company I worked for. I had not yet completely explained everything but I was not worried.

She was very surprised when the flight lasted only forty-five minutes, our bags were waiting for us and my van was waiting for me at the curb thanks to the valet.

When we pulled into my garage five minutes later and I told her I was home she laughed and said it was too easy.

We entered through the garage and two young college girls were wiping down all the appliances in the kitchen.

I introduced Jane to my housekeepers and they made faces behind her back. I think it was the first time they had ever seen me with a woman in my house.

I nudged Jane and whispered she should give them shit. She turned and asked if something was hanging out?

The housekeepers were embarrassed but Jane kept at it quizzing them like they were teenagers caught acting stupid. She asked me why I kept them if they treated people so rudely.

After two or three minutes of verbal abuse she walked toward them and leaned in as if sharing a secret. But her voice was fairly loud when she asked if the rumors were true – was he hung like a whale?

Both my housekeepers broke into smiles realizing they had been had and whispered they heard it was really hard to find and did not last long.

They all laughed and Jane asked for directions to the guest room. The housekeepers kept straight faces and offered to make up the bed but Jane said she could manage and started up the stairs.

At the top she turned and asked if I was coming. I smiled and followed her up the stairs.

When we got to the guest room she thought she had the wrong room. I told her it was all hers. She was surprised the connecting bathroom was almost as big as her entire city apartment and was equally surprised about the Jacuzzi tub.

She found the sheets and when I offered to help she laughed and said she had to remember how to do it. It didn’t take her long.

She asked when she would have an interview. I told her whenever she was ready.

She asked what she should wear – should she show some skin? Lots of leg? Cleavage? I said all of the above and left her to change.

She met me in the computer room looking like a lady of the night. I told her it was perfect. I did not mention I was surprised at her breast size and the amount of cleavage - she had kept them well hid the past week. When I opened the van door for her she smiled and told me to avert my eyes. I laughed.

We drove to my offices and I parked in a visitor spot. I could tell she was getting nervous. I told her to relax as we walked into the building.

I sat her in the visitor waiting area telling her I was going to announce her at the security desk and some one would get her for the interview. I had to check in at my office.

I walked away assuring her everything would be fine but little did she know I had called and set her up.

Every person in my company came out to talk to her. All of them acted as if they could not remember her name for more then a few seconds and she was called many different names. All of them leered at her, even the women.

I let her sit for about twenty minutes then had another employee come in the front door dressed very conservatively and saying loudly at the security desk she had an appointment for a teaching position.

She was shown in almost immediately. Jane waited a few more minutes and the same woman came back out with a suit. She thanked the suit several times for the job and walked out the door.

Jane went up to the security desk and asked if she had been forgotten. The guard asked why she was here and he told her he thought the woman that just left got that job. Jane sat back down looking totally dejected.

A few minutes late I sent “Mother” to get her. Mother is exactly that. About sixty-five and runs my HR department - she mothers everyone. She ruthlessly quizzed Jane about stuff she should have never been asked.

Jane told me later she could see the joy in Mother’s eyes but she was not sure where the joy was coming from.

Mother led her to my office where I was sitting in one of two guest chairs. Jane told me she was really glad to see me. She detailed what she had heard and seen.

About this time the girl that had pretended to be hired and the guy escorting her came into the office. Mother came back in and motioned for me to get up so I moved behind the desk.

Then the guard came in and gave his wife, the new hire, a big kiss and hug and then Mother welcomed Jane to the company and introduced Ted, the guy, as her equal and introduced the President and owner of the company – me.

Jane called me several names - the guard shut my door as we all laughed.

Mother and I discussed Jane’s pay, duties and office assignment. She had Jane fill out W-4s and when she checked them she commented we had someone else living on Airport Road.

After a few moments Mother turned bright pink when she realized the address was mine. Jane leaned over whispering she was in the guest room but working towards the master bedroom.

We could hear Mother laughing all the way back to her office.

Ted showed her the training section and introduced everyone. Ted confided the section had been overworked for several months and were sure glad for the help.

Jane mentioned she thought she was only doing the weekend installations. One of the other girls told her if that was true she would make sure Jane got anything she wanted up to and including her husband. Jane asked for the keys to the master bedroom.

I gathered back up to meet all the others. She was surprised I had so few employees but after talking with a few of them she understood I didn’t need any other employees – the ones I had worked hard and were well paid .

Her training coworkers had invited her out for drinks after work so I left her to fend for herself.

At home the housekeepers had just finished. They told me they bought flowers and candy for the guest room. They had also laid out steaks for supper and made sure the grill was clean.

And Jane wondered why I kept them – they had served many a party for me – I would miss them when they went off to a real college.

Jane showed up right after work hours and changed into jeans. Said she didn’t want to show the whole world her bikini wax.

She was back an hour later and not very happy. Her anger scared me and I don’t scare easily.

TMI Tuesday #169 - Back to TMI Basics

2009-01-13T11:00:00.002-06:00

TMI Tuesday #169 - Back to TMI Basics

1. On a scale of 1-10, how satisfied are you with your sex life?
+/-Expand Post

On the days I get it 10 - days I don't it's a zero. I have very few zero days,very few.

2. If someone shoves you up against a wall while kissing you, your reaction is?

Shoving is allowed as long as I can be aggressive too-like spanking her, holding her down and talking real dirty. Oh wait, she likes that anytime....

3. What is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done or said to you?

Yes, I'll marry you-morning wakeup bj,she was very romantic...

4. Where is the most unusual place you have ever had sex?

So many places-balcony of a jazz club while the band played-open house bathroom while the realtor waited for us-hospital after rotator cuff surgery-am I a pervert or what?

5. How do you liked to be kissed?

With almost any part of her body...

Bonus (as in optional):Most embarrassing sexual moment?

Could not wait so stopped at a lake under a bridge to get it on; didn't see the boat with the fishermen until they applauded...

Damn, I need a cigarette...or...

How To Write Faster

2009-01-02T05:20:00.002-06:00

I read a post about writing faster and decdied to try it.
+/-Expand

Just sit and type using caps to make notes to yourself WIPE OFF DESKTOP but to simplywrite and not worery about anything but your thoughts.

Since I already can type very quickly and know whenr I have hit a wrong key I susallt goback (CHECK TO MAKE SURE BURNERS ARE OFF) and fix it right away but this way I am not re-reading anytihgn nor checking fro typos – I;m just making sure I am typein the correct key every so often.

It is reallt weird to type with my eyes closed but it is kinda of fun. In reality I do not have to close my eyes – unless I DID SPYWARE SCAN FINISH kick the font point up to around thirty I can read the test anyway.

My typing assistant is going buts –it usually says each letter I trype but if I am typing too fast it reverts to saying each word – and even then it hesitate when I misspell something.

Guess I should turn it off beucuasye it is a distraction.

OK, no more words from the computer. I kuust hope my fingers are on the right key otherwise my typing might look l ike rgus (See if you can figure out that last word).

I am done and now I have copied the above and will correct it:

I read a post about writing faster and decided to try it. Just sit and type using caps to make notes to yourself but simply write and not worry about anything but your thoughts.

Since I can already type very quickly and know when I have hit a wrong key I usually go back and fix it right away but this way I am not re-reading anything nor checking for typos – I’m just making sure I am typing the correct key every so often.

It is really weird to type with my eyes closed but it is kinda of fun. In reality I do not have to close my eyes – unless I kick the font point up to around thirty I can’t read the text anyway.

My typing assistant is going nuts – it usually says each letter I type but if I am typing too fast it reverts to saying each word – and even then it hesitates when I misspell something.

Guess I should turn it off because it is a distraction.

OK, no more words from the computer. I just hope my fingers are on the right key otherwise my typing might look like rgua (See if you can figure out that word).

So that was my little experiment. It was fun and only took about five minutes total – and I am nearly blind.

My opinion – I’m going to try the technique on a longer story. I do believe it might be faster and fun.

Searching For Her Voice

2009-01-01T10:30:00.001-06:00

I’ve been following someone on twitter for a while now. I can’t even tell you how I found her – don’t know if twitter or her blog came first.
+/-Read The Rest

But she reminded me of another girl (young lady – woman – take your pick – they are all girls to me) that was also searching for her voice.

Many years ago a student was having problems finding her style or as she called it, her groove. She showed so many emotions but they all seemed fake.

She had an absolute lack of confidence but she hid it so well it took me two semesters to figure it out.

She was outspoken, could converse with anyone about anything and was always laughing. Shy, quiet were not words used to describe her.

But her eyes didn’t laugh. They were not dull just cool but not exactly cold – like I said it took me two semesters to figure it out.

She was most popular among the male students looking for whatever during breaks. Besides her looks and the fact that she could smoke two cigarettes in the time I smoked one, she was ‘fun’ to be around. But any invites for a date or an after class drink were quickly declined.

She was the only student that stayed late on more then one night of the week to use the school’s computers – most students did their work at home or work.

I eventually gave her permanent permission to use the lab any time she wanted. Some weeks her name would be the only one listed on the sign-in sheet – many times after midnight into the early morning hours. I once heard her males students comment about the lack of a sex life. I laughed with them – it was funny.

I had a rule about office hours and phone calls. Come visit or call and discuss just about anything you wanted or didn’t understand.

But I would not give out answers. They were at school to learn and if they discovered the answers themselves, future answers would come much faster and they would feel so good about doing it themselves.

She never came or called. She was one of the best students I have ever taught but something was wrong and I could not put my finger on it.

One evening after a particular stressful evening of ‘fixing’ an upgrade to the network servers I wandered through the lab on my way out of school to make sure everything was still working.

She was at her usual workstation in the back of the lab but she was crying. When she saw me she quickly recovered but I could tell she was very upset.

I plopped on the desk next to her and asked if she needed the same thing I did. She had a big question mark on her face and I told her I had a problem too and I had a quick way to solve it.

She asked how and I told her to pack her things and follow me. I walked out to the parking lot and she asked where we were going. I responded telling her to wait and see.

She followed me to the place where I meditated all of my problems.

When we got out of our cars I told her that maybe she should call her husband to let her know some weird teacher was going to buy her a drink. She laughed and mumbled something and in we went.

In we went to what I called my recreation room or spiritual room or the rubber room. Actually it was where I maintained my sanity.

The bartender, an old friend from my early twenties knew if I brought someone into my sanctuary, they must be special and he treated them accordingly.

We took my usual table and after we both lit a cigarette she asked how this helped me solve my problems. I told her it was a secret and I had not decided if I was going to share it with her.

She laughed and we talked about many different things and she finally seemed to relax. Everyone that came into the bar said hello to me and goodbye when they left.

She asked if I was a regular and I told her a permanent fixture. As the second round arrived I told her I knew of only one way to solve her problem. She asked how and I told her to start talking.

She looked at me like I was crazy. I asked if her emotions were all fucked up and she nodded. I asked if she had any idea what she was going to do and she shook her head. I told her to start talking.

She told me it was personal and I agreed but also pointed out that emotional problems were always personal.

If the problem was logical emotions were not involved – they were not part of the problem. Logic was black and white – emotions were colorful and mixed up.

About this time a young man walked up and set down. He said Hi to her then gave me a high five saying my suggestion had worked perfectly. He was three sheets to the wind but still lucid.

He quoted something his girlfriend had said and wondered what I thought. I told him and he patted my shoulder and said, “Thanks Ole Man” and walked back to the bar.

She asked about the ole man title but a short skinny girl walked into the bar, saw me and dropped into the chair beside her and said because he looks like an old man when he is drunk and trying to walk. I protested but was ignored.

She held out her hand and my student shook it and pleasantries exchanged but no names offered.

The newcomer pointed at me and said I was also called ‘the ole man’ because I was wise and the best couples counselor in the world – she and her boyfriend had not had a fight for almost six months. I was a genius. I might have blushed a little.

My student raised her eyebrows but skinny kept talking. She mentioned that she had become displeased with her boyfriend and had said so and so. That so and so was exactly what the young guy had asked me to explain.

I told her what to do and what to expect. She hugged me and kissed me on the cheek and skipped away to the young man at the bar.

My student laughed and told me I was not being fair. I was playing both ends against the middle. I told her I always play to win.

She laughed and started talking. Two hours later she started to apologize and I told her to keep talking. She asked if I had any questions and I said it was not my turn yet.

The bartender’s girlfriend came in and together they started to shutdown the bar. My student said it looked like we would have to continue this later. I told her to keep talking, we had more time before I got kicked out.

After all the drunks were outside looking in and most of the lights turned off the bartender told us it was self-serve time and to have a good night.

She looked perplexed and I asked if she had a curfew or someplace she had to be – she shook her head and I told her I had a key – as long as we wiped off our table when we left we were fine.

Then she told me that she and her husband had separated two years earlier and she was living with her parents. She worked the midnight shift at a truck stop the next city down the Interstate on weekends to pay her expenses.

I told her to keep talking.

I could hear the birds starting to sing and knew daylight would soon arrive when she finally quieted.

We had switched to coffee a couple of hours previously but she remained relaxed. She asked again if I had any questions. I told her one.

She waited and after a pause and most of my last smoke I asked if she had ever talked to anyone else about her emotions. She shook her head. I told her problem was solved and she looked surprised then shocked and then relieved.

I told her to talk. She described how she felt and could not believe how relaxed she felt. A great burden had been lifted and then she covered her mouth and called herself a dipshit.

I laughed and wondered if she knew of any place could get a good breakfast. After we shut off the coffee pot (she cleaned it and the table) she told me to follow her.

When we got to the truck stop I asked if I could invite people to join us. Absolutely she said so I called my house and told the roommates that breakfast was on me and told them where.

About five minutes later my roommates joined us and introductions were made. The student commented on how fast they got there but none of us replied.

The roommates were in their scrubs and told the student that they very seldom let me eat out. They worked the cardio floor and would order me an appropriate breakfast.

The student was surprised when they ordered scrambled eggs, sausage links, home fries, three biscuits with gravy and a side order of French toast. They also ordered juice and decaf coffee.

The waitress asked one of the roomies what she wanted and both roomies said they would share mine.

I never said another word except goodbye. One of the roomies asked if I had treated her right – was she satisfied?

The student had a BIG question mark on her face when the same roommate commented that there was only one thing a man and woman did after leaving a bar and not checking in until five AM at breakfast.

The student had fear in her eyes when the other roommate apologized for her friend’s sick humor and we all had a good laugh.

At the end of breakfast the student had two new friends and I wanted the thirds my roommates had eaten - the food was fantastic. My roommates invited her for drinks and dancing the next night.

When the student asked how to get to our home we all pointed across the road to a wooded area. She laughed and was surprised she had never seen us here at the restaurant.

A roommate said they had better things to do in the mornings than getting out of bed plus everything we had just eaten was not usually on the menu.

The student is still a close family friend. She and her husband tried it again but he refused to talk to me so I could not help with counseling.

The student graduated with honors and a twinkle in her eye. The cool look disappeared the night we talked. She never talked to me about her problems again. But her and the roommates talk as least three times a day.

She and her new now old husband and four grown kids visited us to celebrate her sixtieth birthday. I was very surprised to learn she was older then me.

And her confidence problem – it took several more years but she finally found her ‘groove’ or voice and is the President of the IT department of a large health network.

Even today she second guesses herself but she finds it much easier to deal with it now. My only complaint – she won’t shut up when she visits.

Be careful what you wish for.

Happy New Year

2008-12-31T22:13:00.005-06:00

There will no TMI or Weird Wed for me this week.
+/-Expand

I can't even check out the year end HNTs. My eyes have deserted me this last week - probably because I ate too much sugar. Luckily I can still see enough to maneuver around the blogs and Google reader which my voice reader can handle.

Hope everyone has a Happy Newyear!

Wednesday Weirdness #35

2008-12-24T06:52:00.002-06:00

#35 - Visit the Website

1.) Did you donate any money/gifts/time to charity this year?
+/-Click here for Answer

Yes, all of the above.

2.) Were you in a hurry to grow up as a child? Do you ever wish you had enjoyed being a kid more?

Grow up? What's that? I'm still a kid about certain things.

3.) What snack did you used to leave Santa? Did you ever catch a parent putting away or eating the treat you left for Santa?

Cookies and Milk - I remember that it would be gone shortly after we set it out and BEFORE the presents arrived.

4.) If you were not related to your cousins, are they people you would pick as friends?

There is one cousin I would be a friend with benefits but most of them bug the hell out of me.

5.) When was your last awkward moment? What happened?

I was bitching about service at a store and the sweet smiling customer service lady whispered my zipper was down. As it turned out it had broken.
The pants were their's and she replaced them. For some reason she would not help me change. For the record I have been a commando since I was a teen.

6.) What is one gift you would be really excited to receive this holiday?

Permission to try surgery to get some/all of my sight back.

7.) When staying with relatives/having relatives stay with you for the
holidays, is sex a go or put on hold?

My previous GF and I would try to have sex in as many rooms of the relatives home as we could. The thrill of possibly getting caught was such a turn on.

8.) Do you have any traditions for the holidays? (ie opening one gift Christmas eve and saving the rest for Christmas day, opening them all Christmas eve, listening to a particular holiday CD while opening gifts, preparing a special breakfast, etc)

Always one gift on Xmas eve for the little ones and save the rest for Xmas morning.

9.) What is something you would be embarrassed to receive as a gift?

I don't embarrass easily buy I suppose porn would do it.

10.) Do you collect anything?

Odds and ends - Three boxes of stuff I will probably never use - extra screws, bolts and nuts, pens and pencils, cables and connectors, receipts, old pill bottles, small cleaned glass jars, keys and key rings. Old computers (10 or so) - I do recycle the monitors.

But my favorite - old Corvette Stingrays - I have eight so far...and it is NOT because I am lacking in other areas!

My Favorite Acting Stage: The Bar Chapter Five

2008-12-24T04:35:00.001-06:00

My Favorite Acting Stage: The Bar Chapter Five
+/-Expand/Shrink Post

Read Chapter Four Here

Wednesday afternoon she said she had to go visit a friend and I was not invited. We were at my hotel – Tuesday evening we had toured her ‘mansion’ right across the street after dinner and a few drinks. I had to visit my computer installation to fix a minor problem.

Her mansion was actually a warehouse disguised as a big home - the home part was still over 4500 square feet but only three rooms were finished - sparsely.

She told me she was waiting for a husband to help her decorate. I pretended to run away in fear but she assured me I was not a likely candidate – I did not have blue eyes.

Little did I know how serious she was.

She left for her afternoon appointment and I decided to go for a drink at the bar where we met. Me and the very young bartender were the only occupants but at least she had the ball game on.

She told me later her uncle insisted that a sporting event was always on if possible – he did not want the news or a soap opera greeting a patron.

I ordered a beer and she blushed. She explained she was not old enough to serve – she could deliver but could not serve – it was help yourself and she would take my money.

I asked where the regular bartender was and she asked why I thought she was not the regular. We both laughed and she explained she filled in when her uncle had other errands to run.

We watched the game in silence for a while until she asked how Jane and I were getting along. As far as I knew no one had seen us or talked to us since Sunday.

I decided to play dumb. She told me not to play dumb, she was a friend of Jane’s brother. I asked what she had heard and she pretty much described Jane and my activities for the pass few days.

I laughed about small towns. She told me everyone loved Jane and wanted to make sure she didn’t get screwed (except she used the F-word).

I asked if she meant literally or figuratively. She threw something at me and told me if all I wanted was a piece of tail (she said something else) she would give me a number.

I asked if it was hers and she said maybe. I held my hand out and she put ice in it.

A couple walked in and I could tell they must be regulars because they went straight to the beer taps to draw their beer into frosted mugs they pulled from the freezer under the taps.

They both would have made great bartenders.

After they sat, the lady looked at me and asked how Jane was. She never once asked about me. But after ten minutes her pointed questions could not have been any sharper.

Jill, the underage bartender actually defended me a couple of times again surprising me with how much information she knew. It dawned on me that either Jane’s places were bugged or she was very close to her brother.

Sometime later my pager went off and Jill handed me the phone without asking. I showed her the number and she said Jane’s parents house. I dialed and Jane answered asking me where the hell I was.

She told me to stay much like someone would command their dog and I just about left just to bolster my manhood.

A few minutes later she walked in and kissed me for several seconds, tongue and all. She also rubber herself against me like she could not wait.

One thing to point out – up to this point we had never kissed or even touched each other except as brother/sister. In fact, if I was forced to describe our relationship it would be as older brother/younger sister.

That’s not to say we were not attracted to each other – we had both agreed that friends was a good position to be in for now.

The lady patron told us to get a room and Jane told her to eff off. I was surprised. Then Jane whispered for me to follow her lead.

Now so far this young lady had not led me astray so I smiled and winked at her. She gently squeezed my crotch. Talk about mixed signals. I knew to keep my hands to myself.

She went to the other end of the bar to talk to the couple and Jill came down to tell me I was a good kisser and a liar – we were just friends her butt.

I knew no matter what I said she would just laugh at me so I just smiled.

Jane came back and kissed me again then she smiled and asked if I was ready.

She started talking louder and not very nice. She wondered why I complained five times a day was not enough. I told her I was use to more and she laughed calling me a liar.

She asked if I wanted her to get on her knees right here or should we go into the back room. She grabbed my hand and led me behind the bar and through a door which I assumed led to a back room.

After a few moments she asked loudly what the hell was wrong. Did she not do it right? Why did I not respond?

She left everything just vague enough that most people would assume I was unable to respond to her sexual advances.

She walked back out the door in a huff. I followed a minute later and all I saw was her back as she walked out the door.

I went after her listening to the three people in the bar calling me bad names.

Read Chapter Six Here

TMI Tuesday #166 - Merry Christmas!

2008-12-23T01:00:00.001-06:00

TMI Tuesday #166 - Merry Christmas!

1. What present do you hope ends up under you tree?
+/-Click here for answer

A bigger computer monitor.

2. What present are you most psyched about giving (PLEASE be vague or ignore this question if the recipient reads your blog)?

Large cash gifts to biological kids.

3. Do you prefer to give or receive?

I love to give but I really like to receive - especially se...

4. What is your favorite part of a sexual partner's body?

Her brain IF I can fuck with it.

5. What is your favorite part of your body - the one you hope a sexual partner will find or pay the most attention to?

My neck or the hanging chestnuts...

Bonus (as in optional): [Idea blatantly stolen from Os and his HNT wishes.] What Christmas wishes would you grant to whom?

Let all the troops be at home for Christmas with their loved ones.

Wednesday Weirdness #34

2008-12-17T00:35:00.005-06:00

#34 - Visit the Website

1. What is the one sexual act you would never do?
+/-Click Here For Answer

Anything in my butt

2. Is there anyone you know, that if they turned out to be a serial killer you would not be surprised?

Yes, actually 2 or 3.

3. What is the most annoying thing about the holiday season for you?

I can be a Scrooge.

4. If you saw a video of your celebrity crush picking their nose, would that change your opinion of your hotness?

I doubt it as long as they didn't eat it.

5. What is the one non-sexual thing you would be embarrassed to be caught doing?

Flatulence.

6. A favorite blogger friend wrote a column about the one word that really turns her on. Do you have a word or phrase that does the same for you? What is it?

When my partner whispers in my ear, "F@&k me!"

7. As someone who ran a virtual cookie exchange, I have to ask what your favorite cookie is?

I would have to say Peanut Butter with Chocolate Chips but only if freshly baked with a glass of milk.

How Not to Clean Frozen Rain Off a Frozen Windshield

2008-12-16T03:38:00.002-06:00

I have not been able to drive for almost a year, as a matter of fact it will be a year tomorrow.
+/-Click for the rest of the story

So I loaned my vehicle to a friend/neighbor – well more of an acquaintance. He is almost as old as me and has not had an easy life.

He seems to have a great big heart but a brain that is not always ‘on’ - if you know what I mean.

This morning it was decided he wanted donuts. A year ago I might have taken him to get a donut but not anymore.

IF my kitchen window blinds are open he is more then welcome to knock for whatever reason. This morning I heard my truck start (he pays the insurance so he has keys).

For some reason he left it out instead of putting it in the garage or under the awning.

I can not see very well but I could see enough to know he was whacking the windshield with the ice scraper. I think he only got one smack.

He covered up the cab of my truck with a tarp from the garage then he scraped and salted my and the neighbors driveways, steps and walkways.

About every ten minutes he looked up at my kitchen window. He has learned that someone better be dying before he knocks on my door. I tend to stay up for twenty hours then sleep for eight or ten then do it all over again.

My days are twenty-eight or thirty hours long. Just because my lights are on does not mean I am awake.

But this morning I could not sleep so I called the glass shop. I used to maintain a very large fleet of vehicles and I have used this guy hundreds of times.

He told me he’d be there at noon. I told him I’d move it into the garage and turn on the heat.

I went out and told my friend to move it into the garage and turn on the heat. I told him to leave it unlocked but to keep an eye on it.

I went to bed. I woke about two and he was sitting in the garage talking to my glass buddy. I made some hot tea then started to go downstairs but I heard my truck start and it and my glass buddy and my friend were gone.

I called my glass buddy later and he told me the insurance covered it all. Great.

I caught up with crap on the computer and news and decided I needed some breakfast. I walked into the kitchen and was about to raise my blind when I saw something sitting on my flower pot.

I opened the window and grabbed a small box of donuts. My friend had remembered what I liked.

About an hour ago he came in the back door and told me he got all the glass out of the cab and had washed all the windows so that they were as clear as the new windshield.

He told me he could not believe how dirty the old one was and he asked ME how long it had been since I washed it. I could not remember.

He told me from now on he would start the truck and let it run or move it into the garage to the heat. He would never swing the ice scraper again.

I laughed and told him I broke two windshields and a rear glass the same way.

He tilted his head to one side and asked if I had always been in such a hurry. I offered him one of the last two donuts and never answered him.

That’s how friends do it – right?

TMI Tuesday #165

2008-12-16T01:18:00.009-06:00

TMI Tuesday #165

1. What is the greatest age difference between between and a SO? Older or younger?
+/-Click For Answers

I was 20 years older.

2. What is the greatest age difference between between and any sexual partner? Older or younger?

I 46 - partner 19.

3. Have you started your holiday shopping? Is it done?

Shopping done - online - all received, wrapped and sent on.

4. What are the chances there will be a "naughty" present under the tree this year (either from you or for you)?

Probably no chance under the tree but always get something naughty Christmas morn.

5. What is your favorite holiday song?

Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer (Joking)
It is actually White Christmas (Bing) or TSO's Christmas Canon

Bonus (as in optional):Do you have a preferred time of day to have sex? If so, why?

My preferred time is ANY time - because I like it (sex).

My Favorite Acting Stage: The Bar Chapter Four

2008-12-13T01:14:00.002-06:00

Read Chapter Three Here

Back at the bar, the news had already spread. A guy asked how long I had been playing and when I said since I was five he was suitably impressed and nothing else was said.
+/-Continue To Read

Jane and I talked about nothing and at ten told me it was her bed time. I found out later she was teasing but I had already offered to walk her home.

She accepted and I paid my bar tab, left a tip and offered my arm. She pulled me across the street to the only house and said good night and was gone.

I headed back for my hotel and noticed that the house she went in sat on the entire block. The place was a mansion but very few lights were on.

The next morning was cooler and it was raining. I walked to the front desk to see about buying an umbrella when the desk clerk told me my car was waiting.

I looked out and saw a black limo parked under the awning. When I came out the driver ran to my door and said, “Good Morning Master John.”

It dawned on me that everyone except Jane thought I was John so I did not correct anyone.

When I walked into the church, using the front door this time, I walked past Jane. I just missed her but she ignored me. I was wearing my emergency suit that went every where with me. Very expensive three piece Italian made in Britain…Iowa I think.

With a light pink shirt, a multi-colored pink silk tie and matching kerchief with gold and pearl tie clip and cuff links. And patent leather black shoes. When Jane finally recognized me she told me I shouldn’t have but was glad I had.

She escorted me to the organ loft and asked if I would play my song for a few minutes before the regular organist arrived. I noticed the organ was already set so I played the funeral version. Jane leaned close and said it was perfect.

Then a young man that looked just like Jane showed up and watched me play a few minutes until the old guy from the night before made a sign from the lectern.

The young Jane look alike motioned me to scoot over and he played until the pastor gave his talk.

The choir did two songs then the look alike got out of my way and setup the organ. The pastor introduced me and the choir made me proud.

When I was introduced Jane made me walk out so that I could be seen and I took my bow.

The service was finished and I offered to help pack the organ up. Jane introduced her twin brother. Their father came back and shook my hand and I was formally introduced then an older Jane came up.

I asked how many brothers and sisters she had when older Jane corrected me and introduced me to her mother, Jane’s grandmother. They all looked the same to me and I told them so.

Jane asked if I would like to have a quick lunch. I had already told her I had to work at one

We climbed into the limo. I found out it was her grandmother’s limo and driver. He took us to the other big hotel on the opposite side of town where Jane was treated like a queen. I asked how long her grandmother had owned it and she was glad she could hide nothing from me.

The meal and service was the best and when her parents and grandmother stopped by the table Jane told me we had completed the other half but would say no more.

At noon I said I had better get to work. I usually spent a few hours on Sunday morning just checking things and I hoped to have a little time plus I really wanted to get out of my suit.

She asked if the suit was really bothering me that much. When I smiled she signed the check but I told her I wanted to pay, I was on an expense account. She let me then directed the driver to my hotel.

She climbed out with me and said she had not been inside this hotel for years. She followed me to my room and bounced on the mattress saying Granny needed to upgrade.

I changed and she asked when I might be coming back. I told her probably in five or more years. She could not believe it. It dawned on me that I had never told her my profession. I invited her back to the office warning her it would be boring.

She sat at the main console and after a few seconds typing she told me the router R4 was reporting the route to home was screwed up. I looked over her shoulder and asked how she knew. She started telling me until she figured out I had given that router a bad gateway on purpose to hide all the others from the net.

She figured out that unless she knew the ip and the correct VPN password she would never find it. I gave it to her and walked away to check on things.

Many of the employees congratulated me on my organ playing and wondered where my suit was at. Jane found that funny and peeked over my shoulder for a while until I saw her helping someone. I peeked over her shoulder and she had already figured out much of my program.

An hour later I asked if there was any real live music in this town on Sunday evening. She told me the nearest was almost sixty miles away. I asked when we were leaving and she called her mother letting her know she was heading for her apartment in the big city.

We walked back to her mansion (she said it was all hers) and got a plain Jane Chevrolet out of the garage.

We made it to her home in forty eight minutes. She drove as bad as I did, but safely.

We walked about three blocks and I found my jazz. She talked to the band leader while I was in the restroom and I was able to sit in for a couple of songs on the piano.

We ate breakfast at four AM and went to her apartment and talked until ten AM. I asked when she had to go back to work and she told me she had been laid off so she was free.

I was on spring break so I also had extra time. I called the office with a number to find me, called my ex to give her a number to find me and we talked until eleven PM that night when I fell asleep.

She slept in the love seat and we both woke at five the next morning. I made breakfast while she showered and she did dishes while I showered.

We spent the day sight seeing and talking. At some point I found out she taught many classes to the local businesses before she got laid off. Mainly computer classes.

Wednesday I suggested she come back home with me to apply for a job I knew about.

But first we had to have some fun.

My Favorite Acting Stage: The Bar Chapter Five

My Favorite Acting Stage: The Bar Chapter Three

2008-12-13T00:30:00.006-06:00

Read Chapter Two Here

I listened to the organ with my eyes closed and knew it had more pipes then the little church back home.
+/-Continue To Read

Jane laughed asking if I was OK. I opened my eyes and saw the shadow of the cross on the building across the street. The side of the church facing me was so common I would never had guessed it was a church.

I asked what the band’s name was and when she was a little slow I asked if it was the Angels or maybe the Pulpit’s back room. She knew I had figured it out and told me the people were nice so I should be too.

I stopped and told her if she could get me a seat at the organ’s keyboard for a few minutes I would be so nice she would be sick.

She grabbed my arm and used a key to get in a steel door. As soon as it opened I saw the bass pipes and immediately walked to one and put my forehead on it. She asked if I wanted some alone time.

I asked if her pipes felt this way and she blushed and left me. I caught up and we walked into a beautiful church through another locked steel door.

I had just turned around to find all the pipes when the music ended. She started walking towards the side of the stage I guess you would call it.

I followed and said hi to several people coming out of what I assumed was the choir section. We went through a passage beside it and there was the organ keyboard.

I heard Jane say something and an older guy stood up and motioned me to sit. I was in heaven and I guess my grin showed I was in the right place.

He asked if I was doing a hymn or something else. Before I could answer he pushed some stops in and said we’d see.

I got settled and played some simple single handed hymn – at least I think it was a hymn. He pulled one of the stops out giving me more volume and I started Pachelbel’s Canon but he stopped me motioning me to stand up.

He pulled the pedal covers off and motioned me back down. I warned I had never played it with pedals but I practiced for a few moments, re-adjusted my seat then played the worse I ever had.

He smiled all the way through and Jane just sat there with a happy look on her face.

By the time I was nearing the end I had finally got my hands and feet working together and he had given me full bass.

But I was also hearing something else and Jane motioned to look over the divider and the choir was singing the melody notes.

I used to be the backup player for a small church back home. Their organ did have foot pedals but most of the songs I played were so simple I almost fell asleep. I practiced at least once a month and toward the end of every practice I always played rock or jazz or blues.

One evening the pastor asked that I give them an impromptu jazz concert when the main speaker was late. They asked me back several times.

But this was the first time I had a ‘real’ pipe organ under my fingers and feet. One of the singers asked if I knew some song and I asked her to sing it and I improvised until the older guy pulled the sheet music out of a cabinet and put it in front of me.

He directed us and worked the stops and turned the pages and I must say we did a grand job.

He asked if I would be around in the morning at ten. He thought the congregation would love that song. I did not even get to answer, Jane just smiled and said she was sure I would help them.

We did the song three more times then I met most of the choir. One of the younger kids jokingly asked if I could play some song and she hummed the first few bars and I started playing – one of my son’s favorites.

It completely blew her away. Then the old guy said I had come to sit for just a few minutes and two hours later they had kidnapped me. He asked what I wanted to play.

A friend playing guitar and I loved to play jazz during jam sessions. We had even polished a couple of songs but had yet to play them in public. One song in particular I played on an electronic B2. This organ could sound like a real B2 and the old guy did his stuff.

I started playing and loved it so much I repeated the song four or five times while trying different filters. Everyone liked it and applauded when I was done. The old guy told them I had written it – I wondered how he knew.

I helped him clean the keys and pedals and close the organ up. I thanked him several times and promised I would be early the next morning.

Jane kissed the old guy on the cheek and said, “Thanks Dad”, told him she loved him and we left.

She grabbed my arm to speed me up and told me we were half way there. I asked what she meant but she didn’t answer.

Read Chapter Four Here

My Favorite Acting Stage: The Bar Chapter Two

2008-12-12T22:14:00.006-06:00

Read Chapter One Here

One Saturday evening I was in a smaller town that only had about twenty bars total. It had more churches than bars.
+/-Continue To Read

Looking back the bar even seemed like a church. Very quiet and reserved. Might have been six people leaning against the bar and they each had nodded and looked me up and down, some had done this several times.

The jukebox was hanging on a wall opposite the bar but it was not playing – it was not even on unless all the bulbs were burned out.

The TV behind the bar had seen better days, many of them, maybe more than me – it was so dark every scene looked like it was filmed at night and it was hard to determine the race of the actors or news people or whoever was on camera.

I had already decided I would try the next bar when the bar maid asked if I was waiting for so and so. I did not hear what she said exactly but I never say no until I was sure what I was turning down.

She repeated herself asking if I was waiting for Jane, that’s what I will call her. I did a thing with my shoulders that could have been yes or no.

She grabbed me another drink and walked toward me. I put money on the bar and the girl warned me that everyone in town considered Jane their family and if I mistreated her I would get my ass kicked.

Well, at least I knew the people supported one another. But I was not sure what I was waiting for.

I was told that the last two guys had failed to show. I was not quite sure what that meant. She told me the first one was so ugly and repulsive one of the older ladies pretended to be Jane and ran the guy off.

I kept continuing to play dumb.

I figured out I must be a blind date or a dating service match. I asked her how I was doing so far and she said not to be nervous. First impressions were important.

I laughed and made a face asking if that was a good one or maybe this was better changing faces again. The laughs made it seem I was accepted within minutes and I was getting many pieces of advice about Jane from all the patrons.

I had already decided to turn the tables on them by announcing I was not a date of any kind when I heard the barmaid tell, I assume Jane, that I was looking good. She also told her to wear a shorter skirt then last time and maybe some taller heels.

My curiosity got the better of me and I had to stick it out until at least the real blind date showed up.

About fifteen minutes later two attractive women walked into the bar. One had very high heels on and a skirt that really could not be called a skirt.

The other wore flat shoes and a skirt right above the knees. The first had enough makeup for ten women and the second’s was so bare I could see the freckles on her cheeks and nose.

If the first held her lips together too long, the extreme amount of lipstick would have melted together and she would be silenced.

The second looked like she had applied lip balm. But her cheeks were naturally red and she seemed embarrassed or maybe just bothered by all the fuss.

Ms Makeup introduced herself asking if I was John. I never answered but I did shake her hand. The fake ‘Jane’ ordered a whiskey something with a beer back. The real ‘Jane’ ordered a soda.

I was hooked the moment she snuck a look at me and coyly looked away without attempting to hide her interest.

The fake Jane drained her whiskey, ordered another and drank half her beer. She leaned close to let me look down her top, light her cigarette and smell her perfume and asked if I had eaten supper. She suggested garlic pizza around the corner.

The real Jane giggled and roller her eyes behind her friend. Fake Jane wobbled down the bar to talk to someone and I asked Jane a question using the name Jane.

She answered and I caught her. She blushed and told Marie to get her darn stuff out of the way. Then she introduced herself and I told her my real name. She caught on right away.

She asked if I was here from some match site on the web and I told her I had never heard of it. She laughed and told me she was sorry she had bothered me and started to move away.

I asked her a few questions and then excused myself to use the restroom. I heard Marie asking questions from one end of the bar to the other. Jane had every chance to tell her friends I was not the guy but she didn’t.

When I came out I asked her why? She said she had already suffered their pity and jokes. The first guy they had intervened and used an older woman to run him off. The second, third, fourth and fifth had not even shown up but they did not know that.

The sixth was the wrong type and she never talked to him again. He was there for less than an hour.

I told her seven was her lucky number and she shushed me – they thought I was like four or five.

I told her I was in town until Monday so I would help any way she wanted IF she could find me some live music. She looked at me with a very queer look and said OK but her eyes were laughing.

She told the bar patrons I wanted some live music and she was thinking about eighth and Grove; I think that’s what it was. Someone chuckled and wondered if I really liked that new kind of music.

She finished her soda and away we went walking. She told me I was walking too fast so I apologized and slowed down. She grabbed my arm and said she was being sarcastic. I had not heard it in her voice but later I would be able to pick it out easily.

She did not let go of my arm until I heard one of the best sounding organs I have ever heard. It was wonderful and totally captivating. I stopped on the sidewalk to listen but she kept walking and let go of my arm.

She told me many months later it looked like I was have a sexual moment. I didn’t tell her until recently that I was.

Read Chapter Three Here

My High School Sweetheart – Part One

2008-12-12T02:21:00.002-06:00

After her grandmother’s wake, my sweetheart’s daughter invited me for food and drinks at a local watering hole.
+/-Continue To Read

She asked me to keep it a secret from her mother. It was a surprise, she wanted to ‘get the goods’ on her dear old mother.

As it was I had come armed with a surprise. While looking through boxes in a closet I came upon my high school year books – all four years and several love letters or ‘passed notes’ if you will.

There were very few pages in my yearbooks that my sweetheart had not drawn hearts and professed her everlasting love. They were the ramblings of a love struck teenager and maybe she wanted to make sure no one else could sign them.

On one page my best female friend (and the hottest girl in the class) had written a little note next to her picture. My sweetheart had obliterated it with X and Os and hearts.

That hot girl, who was a still a friend of ours and at the watering hole, told me she still looked fantastic but I could not confirm this since I could not see much of anything that day. Her husband later confirmed it but told me he thought my ex-sweetheart looked even better with age.

When I talked to my ex-sweetheart’s husband later I told him what had been said. He asked me what had happened between us, why, after seven years we had each gone our own way.

It was no secret that the recently deceased mother really liked me and had almost excommunicated her daughter when she learned who she was marrying but I had not heard this before.

Then my sweetheart’s lil sis arrived at the watering hole. She surprised a lot of people wearing regular clothes and when she saw me she came up and hugged me for a long time before turning me around to show my back side to the crowd as she grabbed it and squeezed.

I heard several ooh and ahs before she told them I would have been her husband if she had not promised her mother and sister to leave me alone.

She said all she had to do was wait for her sister to leave this world and she would have it made. The lil sis was always terrible.

Then she told the crowd that I was the only man except God that had seen her naked below the waist. Then my ex-sweetheart came over and said I was the first of two to see her naked. I know I turned bright red.

He husband reminded her of the time they had gone skinny dipping at the lake and all the fishermen who had surprised them.

I could not resist and asked if it was at the beach or in lover’s cove. He looked at her with daggers until I assured him we had not done it at the lake.

He looked at her then asked me where we did do it and she told him at the pool in school and at the lake near the campground. As she started to continue he told her to stop and most everyone laughed.

That’s when good ole lil sis wondered why she had been told we had never done it period. Her brother-in-law gave her a dirty look and her older sister was trying to kill her with looks.

Unfortunately my best hottest female friend looked at us as if she had never seen us before. She could not believe we had not done it every night we were together. We were perfect for each other and knew we loved each other.

She did not know she was bringing back old hurtful memories but we just smiled and let everyone think what they wanted.

Part Two coming later.

My Favorite Acting Stage: The Bar – Chapter One

2008-12-12T00:27:00.004-06:00

For too many years most weekends I installed or upgraded computer systems in medium sized cities around the Midwest.
+/-Continue To Read

It was logical since I designed and programmed the systems and I got paid for them. I was a class A nerd.

I used to do it on Fridays and Saturdays but working those two days just ruined the entire weekend so I changed things around.

I started arriving Friday evening towards the end of the work day. I’d have the employees move their old equipment out of the way and put the new stuff where they wanted it.

That alone saved me many hours of unpacking and carrying all the crap to the right desk or room.

I would hook up the network Friday night at my leisure, spend Saturday installing software or upgrades and moving data around or whatever. Sunday after lunch the employees would come back for a quickie systems check and any last minute questions. Didn’t take long since it was on their dime.

Monday morning I would check in making sure everything was good then I would head home.

Some of you are saying: I thought he said he used to do this on Friday and Saturday but moved it to Friday, Saturday, Sunday AND Monday.

You have it right. But before the change I would start work around noon on Friday which took everyone offline.

It would take me until the early hours of Saturday and several back breaking hours of lifting to get the network alive.

After a few hours of rushed sleep I would work frantically to get everything done and catch an early evening flight home on Saturday.

By the time I got home Saturday evening I was worn out so I went to bed and woke up around noon on Sunday. The entire weekend was gone.

Monday morning was a crap shoot – if something didn’t work it had to wait for me or a local repairman that usually could not fix it.

So I changed things around.

I traveled to very nice cities stayed in extremely nice hotels with wonderful, exceptional restaurants and nightlife. And I was on an expense account.

I would grab a burger at the nearest fast kill-my-heart food place to save time. WHY? On Friday I would rush to get everything done to get a few hours sleep on a $1000 mattress with high thread count sheets and rush back on Saturday to finish to rush home to catch up on my sleep. WHY?

My new method let me A) Finish up early Friday evening and have a leisurely late dinner at a fabulous restaurant.

B) Wake up late on Saturday and take Saturday evening if not all afternoon for sightseeing and another good meal AND a visit to a live music venue such as the jazz clubs in Chicago or blues clubs in St. Louis or even a local rock cover band. I could stay out at late if I wanted.

C) I would spend Sunday afternoon and evening at a neighborhood bar watching the local sports teams (and rooting against them just to piss off the locals) and eating my favorite food group – greasy bar food.

Even after several heart attacks, bypass surgery and fighting diabetes, I still crave a red plastic basket with a wax paper liner, fries or rings hanging over the edges still dripping grease and a half done hamburger or brat or Philly Cheese Steak steaming fresh from the grill with the grilled onions peeking out dripping even more grease..

AND the always present dill pickle slice that I actually hated but could not leave behind – on principal.

My system was great – my kids lived with me Monday afternoon to Friday early morning. They would spend Friday evening, the weekend and Monday morning with their mother or grandparents and they would come back home Mondays evenings.

I was almost always alone Friday, Saturday, Sunday and most of Monday.

Tuesday through Thursday I taught school at the local college full time (if you can call four classes full time) and I used the rest of the time for consulting and providing customer service to my systems as well as cooking, cleaning and raising my kids.

At least with my new way I had some sort of life, even if it was not at home.

The problem I ran into was simple and simple to solve. Once I was noticed at the bar everyone wondered what I did for a living.

IF I answered a computer teacher or computer support people I instantly had however many new friends as were in the bar. They all had a problem with their new computer or they wanted to add more disk space or they wanted a better sound system.

Since I already talked computers constantly, my creativity kicked in and I became an actor of sorts.

I changed street lights, I was a cabinet maker, a brick layer, a carpenter, and a grain bin installer – things that I had done before. Jobs that no one really cared about.

I was a tow truck driver, a snow plow driver, worked in a headstone engraving shop (I re-wrote a computer program to control an engraver for a guy in Iowa). So many varied professions.

But I have saved the best for last – one of those things that just happen without planning or even thought. And I’ll tell you about it next time.

Read Chapter Two Here

Wednesday Weirdness #33

2008-12-10T08:05:00.001-06:00

Wednesday Weirdness #33
-Amorous Rocker

1.) Do you get along with your significant other's parents? If you've never met their parents or if you're single, how did you usually get along with former SO's parents?

+/-Click here for answers

Never had a problem with parents. I just charmed them and kissed butt.

2.) Have you ever stolen a tip from a table while eating at a restaurant? If you saw someone doing this, would you speak up or pretend you never saw anything?

Never - if I saw it happen the person would be outed, ridiculed and embarrassed and get their ass kicked. Thieves are not tolerated.

3.) Do you have any sexual fantasies that you’d never admit to anyone?

NO

4.) What smells do you find comforting?

Smell of cooking meat - fresh cut grass - freshly lit cigarette amd for some reason Fabreeze?

5.) Do you ever resent your significant other for not earning more money? Do you ever find yourself jealous because your SO earns more money than you?

NO

6.) If you had to wear a Halloween costume for 3 hours a day, ever day, for the rest of your life, which would it be and why?

Happy Clown to make people laugh.

7.) Have you ever had sex with someone and kept a piece of their undergarments or anything else for any reason? Have you ever had someone want or try to keep something of yours?

I've had bras left behind but not at my request. Girls always wanted to wear my light blue buttoned down collar dress shirts - I gave up many of them.

Writer’s Block – Where is my creativity?

2008-12-05T00:34:00.001-06:00

When I started this blog I had dozens of stories that did not really fit with my other sites and I just wanted a place to put them for comments and/or revisions for later publication.
+/-

About three quarters of a month later I am having extreme writer failure. I type a story into a text editor but while editing it I don’t like it. Things just are not flowing. It is like my creativity has left me.

I have been sick most of the last half of November and am still rebuilding my strength. Maybe the fevers damaged my little brain.

Oh well, just a brief explanation why I have not posted anything beside Weird Wednesdays and TMI Tuesdays answers.