The sign read, "No Smoking Dogs!"
I looked at the desk clerk.
"Sooooo, if my dog smoked cigars we wouldn't be welcome, or I can't barbecue a dog, oooor, no lighting a dog on fire and watching it smolder?"
"The vending machine outside sells plastic cigarette smoking dogs....they stink"
I checked my pocket for quarters.
Friday, December 1, 2017
Greasing the wheel. He hated that saying. Lines like that definitely weren't thinking outside the fucking box. Friday meeting at four, the greatest idea ever. He sat, fingered the handouts and thought briefly about what made a man happy. Vodka soda, five fifteen? Chrisssakes that wasn't happiness. Whiskey sour at five seventeen? Now that's happiness.
Friday, November 10, 2017
"What the fuck are you doing here man?"
"I'm hungryyyy and in desperate need of a cocktail."
"You know what I mean."
"Why is it every time I step out to do something ordinary, like eating, everybody eats you know, somebody like you has to ruin it."
"Its not like that, I juuusst...."
Larry looked down at his drink a little embarrassed. He always said that if he ever had a brush with fame, he would be cool about it. Here he was blushing like a twelve year old girl and squirming in his chair like kindergartner who has to pee.
"My God, have you no substance as a human being sir? Is that supposed to be some kind of joke?"
Larry looked away and at a television set across the room, feigning interest in whatever random college football game was on. He chuckled nervously, drained the rest of his Makers Mark and signaled the bartender for another.
"Same thing," the bartender asked.
He nodded, "and one of whatever this gentleman is drinking" he looked over and the man was gone.
"Did you see that guy," he asked the bartender.
"I've seen no one but you tonight partner. Maybe you don't need anymore to drink. Can I get you a water."
Larry pulled out his wallet and flicked a credit car on to the bar top. He sighed and tried to coax whatever vestiges of whiskey were left in the melting ice water.
Fucking Liberace....Fuuuucking Liberace.
Thursday, November 9, 2017
Crooked and still, staring at the ocean through cataract pearls, she waited. The red phone on the table had been quiet for two years. The world's creativity had dried up, her job as the universal muse becoming obsolete. She wondered if getting a cell phone would help.....or maybe a boob job. Yeah, fresh start.