Black and Tan

It was a shock. Not unexpected. All the same a shock.

Happened so fast that only a blur was caught in the corner of my eye.

Then, there she sat. In my lap. Purring. Content. Demanding a pet.

Every morning. Like clock work this black and tan cat, with a little white, jumps into my lap. Goes with the first cup of black joe. I'm getting used to it now.

Actually I look forward to it. I am now a part of her pride. She's such a petting whore.

Speaking of a whore, I got to get some work. I'm a whore for dollars and they are few and far between these days, work and dollars. I grab the cell phone from its cradle on my right hip.

I punch in the numbers and push the send button.

One ringadinggy. Two ringadinggy. The line picks up before the third ringadinggy.

"Labor Ready, this is Marsha. How may I direct your call?"

"Hi Marsha. Jim. Got anything for me today?"

"O hey Jim. Not yet but it is still early. Ya know I'll call when something comes in that we can use your skills for sweetie."

"Yeah, I know. Later."

"Bye"

Hummm. Not even a day labor job. How in the hell can I pay my bills with no work? It's a good thing I ain't got bills. Well, next number to call. Don't wanna do it. But gotta do it.

I know someone that can use my 'skills'.

I dial. It is answered on the first ring, like this is expected. "That offer still stands?"

"Yes"

"When"

"Come by this afternoon for all the details."

"You got the cash?"

"Yes"

"I'll be there around one."

The black and tan cat finds me. Jumps into my lap. Demanding a pet. Demanding that I stay with her. Don't go.

I arrive before one. I stake out the place. Make sure all is kosher. Gotta be sure this is legit.

I see my fisted right hand before me. I knock twice on the door. It opens.

"Come in."

There before me is the job. Well, at least the tools I'll be using to do the job. Beside that is the money. I pocket the money.

"What is the address?"

He tells me.

"What are the names."

He tells me.

"Alright"

I pick up the clown suit. And the empty balloons that will be filled with helium when I get to the gig.

Hell, it's a job.

I won't tell the cat.

Ferrari Talk

A quick look to the right revealed an empty walkway. A quick look to the left revealed an
empty walkway in the opposite direction. Walkway clear. I run right.

Must have run a few hundred yards and still not a sound of running feet on the walkway behind
me. A clean get away. That hasn't happened in a while. I hate going through those spells
where nothing seems to go my way. Much like a ball player in a slump you just have to adjust
and get through it. Though in my profession, a petty thief, slumps could land you in jail.

A green steel building is ahead on the left of the walkway. I slow down to examine the dark
building. A roll-up door is facing the walk, which is the north side of the building.
No lights. I stop and listen. No one at home. Moving around to the west side I notice no doors
but 4 windows above head level, one with a window air conditioner. The south side has two doors,
one a regular house type and the other another roll-up. Obviously this building is some kind of
industrial business, a weld shop or what ever. The doors are locked. Again no lights.

The building's east side is much like the west except there is a door, another house type, a
third of the way down. I walk past the door to finish my circuit around the steel structure
to complete my inspection. No sounds. No lights. No one at home. No cops. Good, I'm back
on track.

I go back to the east door thinking this is a great place to lay low for an hour or two. That
will get the heat to simmer down and I really need the rest. I don't have to see my client
till the early afternoon. I press my right ear to the door. No noise that concerns me. A fan
is moving air somewhere. No voices. No radio left on to mask other sounds. I try the door
knob. It's unlocked! Quickly I open the door and go inside and thank my lucky stars that
the hinges did not complain. I shut the door behind me and lean my back against it. I wait
for my eyes to adjust to the gloom. The windows allow just enough star and moon light through
to keep the inside from being an inky hole.

I see cars. In different stages of repair apparently. One is on stands. One is completed and
shiny. Good, a car repair shop. I find a place that appears to offer some comfort and sit
down. I'm soon asleep.

"Hey buddy. You asleep?"

I'm really sound asleep.

"HEY! BUDDY! YOU ASLEEP!"

Startled, I jump to my feet with my hands in a defensive position in front of my face frantically
trying to get my brain in gear and find where that voice is coming from. I search side to side
and behind and I see nothing! No one is here. Was I dreaming? I sit back down. My breathing
returns to normal. Wow. I gotta get a new job. I doze off again.

"Geez. Buddy. WAKE UP!"

I'm on my feet much quicker this time. Hands up. Eyes roaming. No one!

"I'm right in front of you. Bud."

In front of me is a blue, large, some kind of foreign car on jack stands with the wheels off
and a whole lot of other car parts missing as well. There is no one standing by the car.

"I'm a Ferrari. At one time I was owned by The Fonz."

Holy sheets-ka-bob! I jump back almost falling into a roll box full of tools. Did that car just
talk to me?

"You might remember that Henry Winkler played The Fonz. He and his wife bought me in France."

Dumb founded, I stare at the car, uh, Ferrari. It can't be. What was that show from my youth?
O yes, Mr. Ed, a talking horse. Did I stumble into a show somehow?

"Mr. Winkler doesn't own me anymore. Pity. That family was fun. O don't worry, you'll get
used to me talking soon. At least I hope so. Can you converse? That poor black 356 over there
to your right?" I look and see a black car, I'll take the blue car's word on it being a 356,
whatever that is. "That Porche belonged to Jay Sebring, the hairdresser that was murdered
along with Sharon Tate. I do believe he is so traumatized that he will no longer speak."

I pinch myself in desperation. I have to be asleep. That pinch hurt. Well, at least I now know
what that black 356 is. "Uh, Ferrari or Fonz er, Mr. Winkler? How?"

"How can I speak? Is that it? Haven't the slightest. I'm just a Ferrari."

I sit down again. Not sleepy anymore.

Barefoot Snake

Why is it that you know when you've screwed up. I mean really screwed up. That's how I
feel right now. Laying here in bed I've decided to keep my eyes shut, my ears open, and
my nose to the wind. O man I don't like what those senses are telling me.

Why O why did I stop at that bar last night? Shoulda just kept on driving. O no, I had
to have a beer. Yeah, that was a good idea. Just wished that one hadn't grown to . . .
I don't know how many!

Well, let's put a little light on the subject.

Slowly, very slowly, I crack open my right eye lids. Just enough to see a blurry vision
but not open so much as to let anyone know I'm awake. I learned how to do it as a kid.

I knew it! I did pick up a broad. Of course I smelled her laying next to me. I just wanted
to get a visual. She could have left and only her scent remained. Not my luck.

Her breathing is slow and rhythmic. Shallow. I open my eyes wide. The long red hair is falling
over her face shielding the closed eyes. It's a wonder her nose isn't itching from the hair
moving in and out near the nostrils as she breaths. Well, at least she ain't a porker. I'm
not rolling into her. She's probably a good looker as well. I am not going to wake her by
moving her hair from her face to find out.

Now, how am I gonna get out of bed and not disturb her? Gotta be like a barefoot snake.

Or a sloth on meth. I best lay here a while. But not to long.

I move my right leg to the edge of the bed. Then the left leg joins the right. Awkward. Move
my right arm to the edge. I use it to move my upper torso to the edge, keeping my eyes on
the girl. So far so good. She hasn't moved.

Now, my body is balanced on the edge of the bed. Just one little push and I'm off the bed.
Should be a simple thing. I slowly roll off the edge.

The damn sheet goes with me! I land on the floor and the sheet drapes all over me. I push up
on my hands and peek over the edge of the bed.

"Going for breakfast I hope." She speaks.

"Uhhh, yeah, that's right."

"I'll have a Big Breakfast from Mickey D's honey. Love you!"

That's when the diamond on her left hand flashed a bolt of lightning into my eye.

"Is that what I think it is? On your left hand there?"

"Yes and we had a great wedding and nuptial. Love you."

MARRIED! Me! Well, at least she has a great body.

Damn beer anyways.