Heated Argument

How was the Universe created? Our discussion group attacked this question full bore. Joe was convinced it was a government conspiracy. How could anything be that big? Everything up there was a brilliant fabrication to keep us from realizing we were alone as a race, certain to cause insanity.
The pizza arrived, temporarily shutting Joe up.
Angie wanted to debate the best mattress. Sharon's obsession was moisturizer and the hives it caused. Robert claimed hives were an optical illusion. Max dropped his pants and proved him wrong. Flo, the host, wanted to explore equal pay for women. The group agreed that was boring.
Marva demanded to know why no one had created a  run free stocking. Men preferred analyzing the strongest ale and cigars. Sally felt it was unfair men got away with cellulite, while women were ridiculed. Soon the beer and pizza were gone and Flo suggested charades. Immediately, an argument started over where charades originated. Wrestling and punching occurred. Police came and handcuffed everyone.
Joe shouted at the sky as clouds covered the sun. Clouds are an illusion, part of the conspiracy!!
Ned was hosting next week's meeting. Ned reminded himself to pick up Mace.

Vending Machine

John decided to get his wife a vending machine for Christmas. He waited until Small Business Saturday and found Ricardo's Vending about two miles away. John had managed his own business focusing on refolding road maps for those minus dexterity. Once GPS came, maps were passe and he went bankrupt. But he rebounded by creating a Keep Out sign business and in these times he was swamped with orders.
Ricardo was a pony tailed middle aged man wearing a Hugh Hefner Lives t-shirt. John explained he wanted something special for his wife.
Ricardo showed him four machines. One only spouted tiny live lobsters. Another had only Victor Mature movies, a third contained various perfumes. The fourth, possibly the only one on the East coast, distributed sex toys and vibrators.
John thought it through. Laura was allergic to lobsters. She preferred Charlton Heston to Victor Mature. There were many bottles of perfume in their bedroom.  No, it would have to be the vibrator/sex toy machine. On long trips attending sign conventions, he got lonely. So did his wife. This machine solved both issues.
As the invoice was being written, John politely asked whether the objects inside were brand new.
Ricardo looked up and shrugged. Shall we say, gently used?

Angry Skin Doctor

My skin doctor was furious. The woman stood there near the waiting area.
I cannot give you anymore refills for this cream. You've been on it too long already. It will make things worse. If you want this cream, find another doctor!
She skulked out of the office.
His next patient went in. Minutes later they emerged, the doctor announcing, I can't diagnose it if I can't find it.
I was next. This was a follow up from the previous month. He calmed down as he examined a patch of skin near my ear. Looks good, he said. The gel is working. Cut it to once a week. Thankfully I don't have to operate, not my favorite word.
I felt like I dodged a bullet. Angry doctor + operation=disfigurement.
Although, a photo of me like that in my books might help sales.

Lies, All Lies

Everybody lies online.
Frank posted he was a mercenary. In fact, he was a carpet salesman at Rugs R Us.
Enid saw the post and offered him money to off her husband because she had fallen for Armando, who posted he was a flamenco dancer. Frank had a gambling problem, so he accepted. Then he confronted Ed, the husband and revealed the plan. Ed offered him more money to kill Enid because he had fallen for Christina, who said she was a classical violinist online. Ultimately Frank came to his senses and backed away from the deal. It was back to square one, with Enid and Ed trapped in an unhappy marriage. Until Enid did a Google search and discovered Armando actually was a toll taker on the Penn. Turnpike. Seth, likewise, learned Christina sold perfume at JC Penney.
Meanwhile, Frank liked the idea of being a mercenary so much, he took lessons in close combat and marksmanship. He bought lots of camoulflage.   
Enid and Ed had their first sex in three years. Both lied and said it was ecstacy.

Birds of a Feather

My friends and I are birds of a feather. We tour the country visiting landfills. Not toxic- dumps--Excess Refuse Options, that's what we call them.
Certainly the Staten Island landfill is at the top of our list, We stand there absorbing the exotic aroma, wait until twilight when its true beauty emerges. Gulls scream to punctuate this aural symphony. Sometimes we scream back. Some of us get naked.
There are sick rumors this is the final resting rest of certain local politicians.
Call us odd, but what if we chose beaches as our destination? Sand is  boring. So are waves. Here there is variety and unpredictability.
The sun is dipping below the horizon. Time to get naked.
I won't say if we leap in. You might be eating.

Along the Back Wall

I have all my Hudson County hunting trophies hanging there. Squirrels, rats, insurance salesmen. Also, photos fom my six years in the Commandos where I learned close combat and knife fighting.
I have framed wise sayings like The calm before the storm, Keep your friends close and your enemies closer and do not pass wind on the first date.
There are many shots of people hugging me--the mailman, garbage man, paper boy--all people I tip.
Rejections slips I proudly display to push me to work harder.
Finally, I have a floor length mirror, which I step before as I leave the shower naked. It gives me confidence. No matter how many set backs I suffer I still have this body.

Spitting Image

My wife is the spitting image of Tallulah Bankhead and people say I resemble Cary Grant. We enter a restaurant and everyone wants our autograph. So we comply and no one's the wiser.
I was having lunch with my friend Carl, discussing the good and bad aspects of looking like Cary Grant when an elderly couple approached. I got out my pen. But they ignored me and centered on Carl.
I thought you got a bad deal, the man said. One bad decision about Cuba and they toss you out, his wife added. Russia has gone straight to hell since. The man shook Carl's hand, the woman hugged him. They left. Carl was upset He sighed. Happens all the time.
Cheer up, I said. You could look like Stalin or Putin.
He smacked ,me.
Imagine Cary Grant and Nikita Khrushchev co-starring with Tallulah. Otto Preminger directs.

Unopened Box

Ed saw the box on the ground near a crowded bus stop. Look at that box, he said. A woman walked over and examined it. Pretty wrapping, she said. Another man didn't like the bow, Does it smell, someone asked. Several others made comments.
One fellow, standing alone, said nothing. He was soon surrounded by the others. It's your civic duty, if you see something, say something, Ed reminded him.
The man shrugged. It's all been said.
Well that isn't helpful, a woman said. Who are you? I've never seen you at thois bus stop before.
The man backed away. they moved forward as voices spoke at once. Let's see some ID. He looks suspicious. Make sure he doesn't run. Look, he's twitching! Murderer! Bomb maker!
They knocked him to the ground and began punching and kicking until he lay still.
The bus came. They got on. The man lay feet from the unopened box.
Minutes later, a pedestrian stopped and analyzed the scene.
He was carrying that box and had a heart attack.
Quite attractive wrapping. A shame, so close to Christmas.

Not About You

I looked my goldfish right in the eye and said it's not about you.I will find you a good home. In the kitchen, I spoke to my toaster. It's not about you, Frank. I've been laid off and can't afford butter or jelly. I will give you to The Salvation Army. I told my shower curtain I can't afford it because I had to conserve water.
The hardest part was telling my writing group I couldn't afford paper and pen and had to leave. It's definately not about you guys.
We know Joe. The question is, can you still afford deodorant? They had offered me patches of hair when I started going bald, but I wound up with a scalp infection.
I suggested a group hug. They said just shut up and write. I borrowecRalph's deodorant.

Air Bag System

My check air bag system light keeps coming on. I can re calibrate, but it's annoying. The dealer repair shop said they could find nothing wrong during a diagnosis. I would have to bring it back when it happens without a re-calibration. I knew that's what they'd say. I would have to stop whatever I was doing and bring the car in, wait three hours for the results. They could have just changed the sensor. Everything's sensor controlled now.
Imagine if a doctor said something similar. I can't run tests until you come in with a heart attack.
I refuse to become a bitter Honda Civic owner, jealous of BMW and Mercedes owners. I will suck it up and continue to re-calibrate because that's how I roll.
I wish I could do the same for my love life.