“The Flying Tearoom of Tally Furrowbrow” - (A Children’s Novel Treatment)
I’ve been toying with this idea for a children’s novel since late-January. The story behind it can be found HERE. I’m just as shocked as you are that I even thought of something that didn’t involve zombies and spaceships.
Lemme know what you folks think.
Caleb Priddy Pace is a 12-year-old street urchin with a polite demeanor residing in the mountain town of Grayslot - a port-of-call for deploying soldiers, planes and train-delivered goods. There is a war on, a global conflict. He is unsure of who is fighting whom. It is beyond him and beneath him. He flits the day away playing an ocarina and melodica at an abandoned train station. Both instruments - to him - symbolize the parents he never knew.
Said station has tracks on either side that lead to nowhere. Yet Cale cares not. He figures that whatever passerby happens to leave him money from so remote a location is a worthy one. He stays there because it brings him some semblance of peace. A part of him has always felt drawn to the station, and every time he arrives, he practices the same song in front of the tracks; a song that has been in his head for as long as he can remember.
All this changes when he sees something peculiar, a cream-white cat riding on the back of a Saint Bernard. Both stop in front of the train tracks. From the distance, a whistle sounds. As if out of thin air, a steam locomotive (hovering slightly above the tracks) appears. The cat and dog board it, Cale follows suit.
Upon entering he is greeted by, not human passengers, but scores of creatures only found in storybooks - elves, dwarves, goblins, halflings, miniature dragons, and some still unidentifiable. An orc-ish looking passenger bumps into him in the hallway declaring, “Outta my way, winged worm.”
As the train picks up speed again, he travels down the aisle looking for either the cat or dog, or at the very least a familiar (read: human) face. He sees a girl about his age seated to the rear of the car - violet hair, pretty face, fancily-attired, face in a a book (James Hilton’s Lost Horizon). To her side, a dwarven handmaiden with a perma-smile.
Cale sits in the seat across from them; at first worried they’d protest the intrusion. Quite the opposite happens. The handmaiden waves at him, while the girl pays him no attention at all - still enraptured by her book. A conductor - a thin, slight-of-build minotaur - demands to see his ticket. The boy’s face goes white.
The well-dressed girl pipes up from her book, “He’s my luggage boy. Move along.”
The minotaur bows apologetically and continues down the aisle.
The dwarven handmaiden, Llysiph, introduces the both of them. The girl is Lady Brianne Isaveta Danu of Ireland. Brianne rolls her eyes at the title. As Cale converses with Llysiph, the little “lady” snorts, then let’s out a rather loud, boyish sneeze. Her fairy wings unfurl as she does so. Cale’s jaw drops.
He emphatically declares, “Is anyone on this train human?”
Both Brianne and Llysiph appeared taken aback by the question. Llysiph’s perma-smile vanishes, replying that no humans can board this train. Cale then asks how he was able to board.
Brianne finally removes herself from her adventure book. Her face lighting up. She instantly starts drilling him for questions. The boy is taken aback…slightly.
Llysiph appears worried, and interrupts the conversation, stating that no one must find out he’s human. Such an occurrence would be considered an emergency. Thinking fast, she removes a feather duster from her satchel and some beeswax. She paints the wax around Cale’s mouth and plants the duster on his face.
“There. Now you’re a dwarf. Sort of,” Llysiph says with a large grin.
Brianne opens the window and pokes her head out, Llysiph tries to bring her back in. She hocks a sparkling loogie out. Cale - being the boy he is - peers out to see where it lands. He looks down and sees that there is no ground. Rather…water. The train sails along over the ocean, unimpeded.
Cale notices a coastal town approaching fast. He asks why no one can notice the train. Llysiph explains that all magical things exist “outside” of human notice. She tells him to look again at the coastal town, Cale does so. Where before there were just a few squat buildings, a giant spiraling citadel with several rings is nestled among the man-made structures. How something like that could escape notice, he couldn’t fathom. The fairy noble girl and dwarf giggle at his shocked expression.
The train zooms through a tunnel that appears out of nowhere as a ring suspended in mid-air. When it arrives out the other end, land greets it. Or at least, a land mass hovering well above the ground, deep atop a layer of clouds. A floating island.
“First stop! The Flying Tearoom!” a voice bellows from all around.
Llysiph and Brianne get up to exit. He bids farewell. Brianne urges him to come along saying she still needs a “luggage boy”. Then Cale sees the dog and cat appear from amidst the crowded car to exit as well.
He agrees to disembark.
As Cale is literally given her luggage to carry, Brianne walks ahead doing the occasional cartwheel in her fancy dress. He whispers to Llysiph that she’s not quite the proper “noble lady”. Llysiph giggles and explains that she was sent to the tearoom by her father to learn how to be polite and more ladylike. That is, after a certain incident regarding a dining room fire.
However, the tearoom is hardly the dainty place Cale would’ve thought it’d be. Loose stones of a castle’s foundation line the property. The estate itself - while large and inviting - hardly gives the impression of “tea”. Three towers rest on either side of the triangular property - one, a lighthouse, the other a windmill, and the last, a parapet/ residence. An herb garden and greenhouse are off to the side. To the rear, a large, bulbous, domed area with sepia-toned bay windows overlooking the sea of clouds.
The main entrance is even more peculiar, an arched doorway at the base of the lighthouse tower. Upon entering, they see that the walls are lined with books. A large Persian rug is spread with delicately woven fabric, spelling out “Welcome”. The lighthouse tower stretches up to multiple levels, all lined with further bookshelves. The tea bar itself rests to the right of the entrance, further past that, a sandwich deli. At the back of the tea bar are rows upon rows of water jars attached to pipes; all boiling at different temperatures. To the left, an entrance to the herb garden. Center-stage, the entrance to the tearoom itself; bearing the appearance of an airplane cockpit only far larger.
Cale sees the cat and the dog milling about. Both appear to be straining. Within seconds, they increase in size and stature to the frame of human adults. The cat says, “That’s ever-so-much better, eh, Abby?”
“M’yeah,” the dog shrugs, heading to his station at the deli.
Cale is wide-eyed. Brianne excitedly introduces herself, Llysiph tries to correct her manner, encouraging a curtsy. The cat does a clumsy half-bow in return while donning a “Kiss the Kitty” apron. He introduces himself as Tally Furrowbrow. Since the Saint Bernard doesn’t chime in, Tally says his name is Abacus Rex.
The boy is perplexed by Tally, noticing that he does indeed have a “furrowed brow” - or rather, a brow-like scar above his eye-line. In appearance, Tally is a peach-point, cream-colored Ragdoll breed of cat. Cale even guesses as much out loud. Tally is impressed that he knows his cats.
Tally then turns to Brianne and says, “So, your father sent you here to become a lady, eh? Well, I don’t know much about that, but I suppose we can show you a thing or two.”
He points to the books lining the wall and tells her to pick one. Brianne asks what that has to do with tea. Tally simply winks. Cale and she go about examining the titles on the spines of the books. All of them bear names of tea. They realize that the books ARE the tea holders. They come to a consensus on the “Gnomish Oolong”.
“An excellent choice,” he says with a smile.
The book floats over to him and opens upon his motion. Inside the book, the two children see leaves dancing out of the pages, coming to settle in a small measuring cup in Tally’s hand. He drops the leafy concoction into one of the many boiling water jars - the one labeled “Oolong”. He whips out an hourglass. Cale and Brianne whisper to each other, wondering what he’s doing. When the hourglass finishes, Tally withdraws two unassuming clay mugs. He pours the contents of the jar from a strainer-spigot. The tea stream magically split in two and fills into the cups.
“Every tea tells a tale, and every tale’s to a “T”.
Both Brianne and Cale take a sip simultaneously and are instantly transported…literally…
To another time and place.
“The Fix” - Another Story From My Sleep
I love it when I’m just the camera in a dream, not the one the camera focuses on. It’s probably the closest I’ll ever get to lucid dreaming, and it’s usually indicative of a good mood the prior day. This one actually occurred to me about a month ago. The whole thing was pieced together over TWO sleep sessions. This one convinced me to - mayhap - compile my weird story dreams into an anthology of sorts. Still working out the kinks on that minor epiphany.
Apologies if the writing appears stream-of-consciousness-ish. It’s just a summary of events…and I was excited. I know, not much of an excuse.
A blind hacker/fixer who wears specially-affixed sunglasses for blueprint read-outs - named Tactile - moves to a new town and is introduced to the underground black market via an old friend, a big black guy named Tomb Eric Root.
At a makeshift club called “The Neutral Zone” he sets his sites on a woman who is a notorious street warrior and gang leader.
He asks said friend - now known as Tombs - to set up an introduction. Even though his friend informs him that the gal - Jeri Planck - hasn’t dated a man since she KILLED the last one.
(I.e. She’s only dates women.)
But before Tombs can even set up an intro, his lover and right-hand-man - a burly Asian named Min Yun - jumps HER gang in plain sight outside the club. Min - an excellent fighter - succeeds in killing her two male bodyguards, but is quickly dispatched by her. Barely left alive. When Tombs, Tactile and Min return to their boss - a guy named Quade Quake - they explain the failure. Quade takes Tombs aside. He explains that he never expected Min Yun to survive but is glad he did. However, Quade has to use him as an example. He gives Tombs an order:
“A finger should do. As a warning and a lesson.”
Tactile uses this as an opportunity to get in Quade’s good graces and offers his unique talents to dispatch Jeri Planck. Tombs and Tactile also leave to carry out Quade’s order, slicing off an index finger of Min Yun. They meant to accomplish this anonymously, but there was a mix-up. Tombs is found out. Said lover confronts him at The Neutral Zone that evening.. The club owner - Rue-B Lo-Fi - tells folks to clear the dance floor and erects a holographic boxing ring as a joke (on Tactile’s advice). Tombs wins the fight, and informs Min Yun that he and Tactile hatched a plan to leave Quade’s gang. He doesn’t care, seeking to kill Tombs for the missing finger. Tombs kills him instead.
In the ensuing brawl, Tactile makes his move on Jeri. Her three other female compatriots try to interfere any which way…but he cleverly dodges them…or outright parries a blow. However, instead of killing her, Tactile kisses her. She returns the affection, impressed that a man could get that close to her without dying. Tombs fight finishes. Tactile and Jeri are making out. Epilogue, Jeri replaces her two male bodyguards with Tumes and Tactile.
Tactile is approached by one of the three female members and she says, “You know, you still have to allow Jeri her women. In return, she’ll allow you men.”
Tactile explains, “Sorry, I like women.”
Girl: “Damn, you’re gonna have a problem there. So does she.”
“Title Zero” - A Superhero Comic Synopsis
So, a friend of mine (Aaron) and I were yacking one day about potentially collaborating on a project; a superhero thing, no less. Like there aren’t enough of those. However, after our brainstorming conversation concluded, I set out to run some errands. The notion would NOT leave my head.
In the span of that drive, I plotted a few details down for how we would do one. Upon returning home, I spent the next three or four hours hammering ‘em out. This is the result:
TITLE ZERO SYNOPSIS:
The year 2001 was known as the birth of the “true millennium”. While the fears of the many subsided with the Y2K changeover, there were still those that awaited the successive year with equal parts fascination and fear. For an event was expected by some - an educated few - that could alter the destiny of humankind forever. Their reservations were correct.
For on January 1st, 2001, the Rhea Cascade happened. A leyline singularity unlike any other; an energy surge of untold power. It didn’t happen in one area, but many. The strongest nexus of which surrounded the plot of land where the as-of-yet Pantheon High School was to be built. The government took notice of this and acted quickly. Referring to the top minds of the science and fringe science communities, a conclusion was reached.
Pantheon High would indeed be built, but not as any normal school. Rather, a Petri dish of sorts. Under the guise of a public school funded under a “Title Zero” government grant, students from all walks of life would populate it’s halls; children whose test scores indicated a potential for greatness. The government would see what would happen to them on a hotbed of metaphysical energy…and wait.
It did not take long. Although 75% of students were unaffected by the invisible “surge”, a quarter of them began exhibiting paranormal traits. The onset was subtle at first. Girl-A would get a top grade on an English test, even though she was a recent immigrant. Boy-C would run a full marathon on a meniscus tear. The top 1%, well, they went farther.
The Pentagon’s patience had paid off. Six students exhibited abilities only heard of in comic books, and better still…their powers were growing. The problem remained of what to do with the other 25%. Superpowered teens were unanimously considered a threat if left unchecked. By the end of June 2001, the Expulsion Directive was carried out.
While prolonged partial exposure to the Rhea energy opened the gate to newfound abilities, a concentrated pulse had the opposite effect. A student exposed would have their powers stripped. Problem nullified. However, once a student was torn from their newfound talents, a part of their very being was ripped from them as well. Some officials likened it to a spiritual lobotomy. Expelled students either fell into an incurable catatonia…or died.
The chosen six were put through a rigorous training regimen. Their identities were shrouded in secrecy. Official designation at Pantheon High was “En Passant”, or less formally; the Chess Team. Their codenames were the six player pieces on a chessboard; King, Queen, Rook, Knight, Bishop and Pawn. In one year’s time, they were ready for field work as military-sanctioned field operatives. That is…until the incident.
2009. No students have exhibited the same level of talents as the original En Passant group until now. These six - under the mentorship of a new Chessmaster - pick up the mantle their predecessors left behind. The difference is none of them know of the Expulsion Directive or the founding principles of the Title Zero program. Secondly, none of them can stand the sight of each other. And lastly…
They have the power within them to become gods on Earth.
If they don’t destroy it first.
CHARACTERS:
Professor James Laxis:
A former college professor with a doctorate in psychology, students often refer to this shifty, bearded - but amiable - man as Profo Laxis. Or Jimmy Hat. He is the Vice Principal of Pantheon High and the new Chessmaster for En Passant. Getting the new group together, however, has proven a rather daunting task. Luckily, he has a few tricks of his own, namely partial clairvoyance. He can see the future up to “ten steps ahead”, which allows him to plan for most eventualities.
Most.
His reason for taking up the mantle of Chessmaster, aside from his unique Rhea-influenced abilities is his personal attachment to the Title Zero project. His daughter, Blue Laxis, was the former Queen of En Passant…and current leader of Shogi.
Leroy Hayman:
A transferred sophomore to Pantheon High, this tall, built African American male is the envy of all his peers. Smart, cunning, charismatic, and completely aloof. He turned down the opportunity to run for Student Council. His test scores are through the roof, and - despite his best efforts to the contrary - he maintains a B- average.
His abilities are all in his mind; literally. Telepathy, telekinesis, pyrokinesis, if there is a mental trait, he can master it. That is, aside from psychic abilities, which Mr. Laxis seems to have over him.
He is the new “King” of En Passant. Designation: “Checkmate”.
Philomena “Mena” Silver:
Towering most sophomores at five-eleven, the Amazonian Mena Silver was the only one from her class to be accepted on the varsity cheerleading squad. Although considered a high honor, what they really wanted her was for support. After all, her physical prowess was obvious. Regardless of her build and size, she is strikingly beautiful and she knows it. The results of which means she never dates anyone below her height; a strict rule.
Her abilities are fairly self-explanatory. She possesses superhuman strength…with an added twist. If the need arises. Her skin pores secrete an alloy coating, sheathing her in metal. “Silver”, indeed.
She is the new “Queen” of En Passant. Designation: “Endgame”.
Hugh Lincoln:
Hugh is a sophomore, and a very well-known one at that. In his very short run of the school thus far, he has racked up an impressive array of credentials - from cafeteria larceny to pep assembly pranks. The odd thing is, no one on the faculty appears to hate him. Students on the other hand, are split down the middle. Some want to worship him, others want to rend him limb from him.
They’d have to find him first.
Hugh has a talent with light. He can bend it to his will. From bending the light around him, rendering him invisible, to condensing a lightwave to a single (and deadly) beam. He isn’t one to be crossed lightly. Luckily he usually only uses his powers to annoy.
He is the new “Bishop” of En Passant. Designation: “Jester”.
Kira Lightfoot:
Studious, silent, and shy, Kira spends most of her time delving into a book rather than traversing the rigmarole of high school. She mostly keeps to herself, and if ever called upon…she can never be found. There’s a reason for that.
Kira was imbued with the slight manipulation of space-time. She can teleport and freeze time at will with a simple thought. The duration and length of these episodes depends on her level of concentration, which is usually easily distracted.
She is the new “Knight” of En Passant. Designation: “Elle”.
Jin-Wray Carwin:
This Amerasian tenth grader has always had a plan. School was but a step in that plan. Sports, only a means of honing his body. ROTC, only a means of instilling discipline. Some would blame his parents for this narrow-minded focus. Nothing could be further from the truth. This was all him. What was not in the cards, however, was superpowers.
But he’d adapt.
Jin possesses an exceptionally strong life force, one he can harness, shape, and throw at hypervelocity speeds. He can even alter the pressure and size of the impact just by his stance or expression. Don’t ever call it a “chi bolt” or “fireball”, though. He would take offense.
Then probably throw one at you.
He is the new “Rook” of En Passant. Designation: “Ballistic”.
Theodore “Theo” Payne:
Always the understudy, never the actor. Such is the freshman life of the confessed of ”theater geek”, Theo Payne. His dream was to perform as Hamlet at least once. Instead, he was drafted to light detail and tech work. It didn’t help that he was quite good at it. Affable and well-liked, though he was, none considered him talented enough to take the stage. Occasionally he’d get a bite as a member of a Greek chorus or a dancer, but that was it. He never got his curtain call, and it was starting to show.
His moment to shine would come in another form.
Theo has the most unique ability with the greatest amount of potential. While it may seem that all he is is an “elastic man”, in reality he’s a shape-changer. Aside from altering his form and size at will, he can also mimic anything that he touches once; be it person, place or thing. What has not been told to him, though, is this ability might evolve past mere mimicry.
He is the new “Pawn” of En Passant. Designation: “Puppet”.
“Marshall Joe” - A Story from My Sleep
I suppose a little explanation might be in order. The day prior to this write-up, I had just ended a graveyard shift. I managed a two-hour nap before I had to meet a friend for tea. Several cups of tea later (heavily-caffeinated, year-aged stuff), I dropped her at her second locale. The friends there - a charming couple - were also homebrewers and still had some of their self-made IPA on tap. Three pints, some “Afro Samurai”, and copious amounts of water later, I returned home. It was about 7PM-ish. I finally crashed around 8.
Four hours later, I awoke. The dream I had was another one of “those”. From time to time, I dream in story form. As in, I’m not the main character, and it follows a linear plot. Thus far I’ve cataloged…oh…six or so. I’ve had three in the last two weeks.
The one you are about to read, I have no excuse for. Perhaps a steady diet of Dos Equis “Most Interesting Man in the Universe” commercials, sleep deprivation, and Google hits to pornstars named “Joe” are to blame. I haven’t a clue…and frankly, I don’t want one. It’s glorious.
MARSHALL JOE
“He preceded his reputation because it wasn’t fast enough.”
“He found the original Writer’s Block and chiseled an image in his likeness.”
“He rediscovered magic in order to light a cigar.”
These are a few of the tall tales ascribed to Joseph Noble; philanthropist, ethnographer, adventurer, writer…pornstar.
The world simply knows him as “Marshall Joe”.
Although he looked rather average, plain he wasn’t. Born into a life of privilege, the son of a brilliant industrialist, and raised on a near-mythical private island - dubbed “Marshall Stallion” by his father, after his wild horse commune - young Joe grew weary of everything coming easy to him. Education, games of chance, women, there was nothing that he couldn’t attain. He simply believed things were easy and they were. That striving to outdo himself became his only weakness, for he was never satisfied.
He set out to prove or disprove myths and legends as a means of stumping his good fortune. Nothing succeeded. While the amount of legends was innumerable, any he turned his attention to were either revealed, debunked, or exploited. Usually to the betterment of humankind.
He successfully traversed the Bermuda Triangle, then later built a beach house on it. By hand.
Atlantis? It became the first underwater casino - the profits of which went to combating world hunger.
When adventures rooted in Old World mythology proved too pedestrian, Joe turned to the more esoteric; such as discovering the lost Mudworm People of the Midwest. A tribe of Minnesotan settlers-turned-aborigines that lived among (and fed off of) giant-sized worms. He lived among them for a week, even adopted a mudworm as a pet.
As his fame grew, so did the need to capture his likeness on camera. Too bad every actor in existence paled in comparison to the actual man. Hollywood blockbusters made about him starred him. Even the inevitable pornographic parody of his exploits featured him in the title role. It became the first crossover hit since Deep Throat.
Still nothing could quench his thirst.
Then an opportunity came from the last place he ever thought to look - the island of his youth. Rumor had it that Noble MetaWorks, the company his father built from the ground up, was involved in the cocaine trade. Not just any cocaine, but powder chased with a rare mineral compound - native to the island - that instilled a state of pure bliss. Describing the experience as a “high” simply didn’t do it justice, it was like being spanked by Buddha himself, then tossed back to reality…naked. Inevitably, addicts committed suicide, but the market was on the rise. Joe had to put a stop to it.
On his return to Marshall Stallion Island, Joe personally oversaw the day-to-day operations of the company, all the while keeping his eyes and ears open for any hint of a hidden drug lab or mining operation. As he dug further, flashbacks from his childhood grew more prevalent. Joe recalled a time - around five years of age - when he discovered a lone robot on the beach. Big head, bug-like eyes, E.T.-ish. For the longest time he thought it only a childlike fantasy.
Until he saw it again.
The robot led him to a series of mini-mineshafts, operated by small men - shadow-black in color, glowing white eyes. Human-sized derricks burrowed into the ground, unearthing something that glowed. He remembered these from his childhood as well. The largest he dubbed “Old Smokey”. The shadowy natives - Little Smokeys. His old memories were coming back to him.
Until he was knocked on conscious.
Joe awoke the next day, covered in white powder, dumped in a cheap motel room, his name on the evening news, and his company under investigation. Overnight, his godlike reputation came a-crashin’. Brow-beaten, downtrodden, broke-as-a-joke, the immortal Joseph Noble finally knew failure.
Like that would stop him, though.
With a renewed sense of purpose, Joe strives to uncover the mystery of Marshall Stallion Island, uproot the drug conspiracy that tarnished his good name, and perhaps seduce a henchwoman or two.
For Marshall Joe only knew failure so success could be that much more sweet.
Reviews by Rhyme: J.J. Abrams’ “Star Trek” Reboot…Thingy
This is the so-called “maiden voyage” of the Reviews By Rhyme section. And what better way to usher it in than to review another maiden voyage. That being the new Star Trek movie.
This is still quite an experiment, so bear with me.
Best Bad Joke…Ever…
It was said that a black man would be president “when pigs fly”.
Lo and behold, 100 days into Obama’s presidency…
Swine Flu.
(Don’t blame me, blame my friend Becky.)
*Hides under a rock*
Tea Musing - “Chamomile Time: Dried Fruits and Flying Tearooms”
As hard as it may be to believe (okay, maybe not that hard), I’ve had considerable difficulty deciding on what story idea to write. For awhile, the leaning had been toward Brunch with Phantoms. That all changed, however, with a simple conversation over a cup of chamomile tea with my brother.
From that simple dialogue, a new world was open to me; a world of magic and whimsy. The story was a simple one, and oddly enough, might be my first foray into children’s literature. A fry cry from my usual fair of spaceships, zombies, and swords.
The details of that conversation can be found HERE.
Tea Musing: “The Elmatcha Experiment”
Sometimes I really shouldn’t play with matches, run with scissors, or hock rubberbands…all at the same time?
Yes, folks, that’s a metaphor.
But here’s a CLEAR EXAMPLE of failed Macguyver-ing.
Gas Station Etiquette?
This concept is completely new to me. Last I checked, gas stations were a “first come, first serve” sorta dynamic. People go in, get their gas, bitch and moan about the price, then leave. I was keenly unaware that there exists a form of code of conduct for it. Let’s review.
Believe it or not, I was out and about for a good reason; a good deed even. A friend of mine, wrought with stomach flu, had requested that I pick up some Tylenol for them. As most would know, if it’s a friend or family member, I will usually assist if it’s in my power to do so.
I went out to my car, but realized the damn thing was on “E”. I forgot to fill the tank the night before. The Safeway gas station was on the way to Walgreen’s. Once I started driving, however, I slipped into autopilot mode and spaced the gas station entirely. So, I bee-lined to the Walgreen’s instead.
I picked up the Tylenol PM, a couple of Cadbury eggs and continued off to said friend’s place. She answered the door - definitely under the weather - wondered how much it was, but I told her not to worry about it. Even had to emphasize that I was sure about it. After all, this was supposed to be a good deed, right?
Upon leaving her complex, I noticed I’d also skipped a Chevron station on the way as well. I must’ve been really out of it to miss two gas stations. I shrugged, though, and figured I’d backtrack to the Safeway one since I had the requisite “Club Card”. (Ooooo, special.)
When I got there, the place was packed; as was expected for rush hour. A two-tier fuel truck also made it difficult for people to exit. The line was at least two to three cars long. I hate when this happens. You see, I have one of those nifty cars that has a gas tank…on the passenger side. Not the driver’s. This makes maneuvering in crowded gas stations exceptionally difficult.
Luck was on my side, though, for on the inner left side of the station there was an opening. Just shy of the fuel truck, no less. I bypassed the car line and stuck my nose in. That’s where things got hairy. One car decided to leave, passing through the station dock and out, thus allowing a very irate woman to come through.
“You do know there was a line, didn’t you!?” she yelled
I ignored her.
“Hey, I’m talking to you!” she repeated.
I rolled up my window.
Couldn’t quite make out the rest of her rant, but I’m pretty sure “dickhead” was among the expletives.
The pubescent attendant looked like he was coming ’round to my driver’s side window. I motioned him over to the passenger’s side since said woman was still in mid-rant. Before I could tell him to fill my tank…
“No, man, she was first,” he said.
He then left to service another car. The disgruntled woman looked begrudgingly satisfied with this conclusion, and sped off to another terminal. I waited a good five or so minutes for the attendant to return. A part of me was tempted to file a grievance with his supervisor. Self-reliance got the better of me, and I figured the best idea would be to leave. Unfortunately, an SUV was blocking my egress.
Snot-nosed gas boy returned to my car - with ‘tude, of course - and finally took my card. Once the tank was full, and he took his sweet time to get back to me, I proceeded to back out. I had to be careful because an ass-load of fuel truck still blocked the left side. The SUV woman took this as sign to move up while I was trying to maneuver. Edging out of a gas station with two tons of fuel behind you, an SUV in front of you, pump to the right of you, and a snack shack to the left of you means needing to pull forward!
I motioned to her with my hands in the air, “What’re you doing?!”
She continued to pull forward, narrowly missing my front bumper.
I motioned again!
She got out of her car, a look of vehemence on her face. At that point, I did what any red-blooded coward would do in the face of PMS. I did as best a back-up as I could, then hauled arse outta there. It seemed everyone was out for my head.
I’ll admit that pulling into the one free pump when no one could access it in line was a wee bit discourteous, but - truth be told - I was unaware that this was out of the norm. Last I checked, gas stations - like downtown parking - were Social Darwinism personified. Rule o’ thumb being, he/she who gets the spot…rules. End of exercise.
Apparently, I missed a memorandum or something.
So, I throw it out to you folks…was I a dick?
Honest answers appreciated.
Monday Morning “Lolz”
I thought I had recovered.
I thought the addiction was gone.
But…Ladies and Gentlemen…
I’ve relapsed.
I’m LOL-ing again.
If your pet (or pets) were captioned, you have my sincerest apologies.
And my giggles.
Yes, I know I have a problem.
Recent Posts
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Recent Comments
- Gene on “The Flying Tearoom of Tally Furrowbrow” - (A Children’s Novel Treatment)
- TeaBoat on The Horrifying Dark Beach of the Slain Dragon
- derekpm on “The Fix” - Another Story From My Sleep
- Geoffrey F. Norman on “Title Zero” - A Superhero Comic Synopsis
- Aaron on “Title Zero” - A Superhero Comic Synopsis
