Road Kill
WARNING: If you are eating, or just don't like reading gross stuff, go read something else.
I have an unusual hobby. I drive to work on a rural highway, and there is always something new dead on the side of the road. Usually, it's raccoons, sometimes a big fat momma and three or four little bitty baby raccoons all crushed and lifeless in a group, like a Racine constellation. Sometimes it's a skunk, the stink letting it's presence be known even if the body isn't visible. Sometimes, it's someone's dog or cat, and that's extra sad. One of the reasons I keep an eye on the roadkill is to keep from contributing to the body count. Especially now when the deer are getting hit left and right. It seems like every day I notice a new deer on the side of the road, or smeared all over the middle of it.
Anyway, back to the really gross part. Well, two gross parts. A while ago someone's dog got hit about half-way to work. I was able to watch all 4 stages of decomposition. First it just laid there, kind of twisted. Then it started puffing up like a bag of microwave popcorn. After that it started turning into a dog puddle. Every day the lump of dog got smaller and the puddle of dog got bigger. Now it's in it's last stage, the dried up 'what was that hairy thing?' stage.
The other gross roadkill item of interest (or not), is a dog that got hit right outside of town. It was a fairly large black dog. Used to be anyway. Some little kid is probably crying his eyes out. Unfortunately, the remains didn't end up safely on the shoulder, the body got stuck right in the middle of the highway. Yesterday, on the way into work, I noticed there were two piles. Apparently, getting repeatedly knocked around by passing cars skinned the dog. Now there is a pile of dog fur next to a pile of dog pieces. Something you don't see every day. Well, I do since I drive past it every day on the way to work. Lucky me.
Sunday, November 21, 2004
Saturday, November 20, 2004
Back By Popular Demand
Well, since my fan club wants more of the story, here's a small update.
The Night From Hell
I'm not sure how many songs I sat through when the phone beeped. Someone was calling me, and I didn't have to be psychic to know who it was.
"Hello, Mom," I say.
"Karen, my electric is still out. When are they going to fix it?" my mother asked.
"I don't know," I say. "I'm sure they're working as fast as they can."
"Well, what did they say when you called?" my mother asked.
"They didn't say anything," I say. "I'm still trying to get through to them."
"Oh, ok. Will you call me when you find out?" my mother asked.
"Ok, Mom," I say. "I'm on the phone with them right now."
"Hello, my electric is out. When will it be back on?" my mother asked.
"Mom, who are you talking to?" I ask.
"Didn't you say you had the electric company on the phone?" my mother asked.
"Mom, they can't hear you. I was on hold with them when the call waiting on my phone beeped when you called. Now I have them on hold." I say.
"Well, when you talk to them, will you ask how long my electric will be out?" my mother asked.
"That's the only reason I'm calling them, Mom. When I find anything out I'll call you, ok?" I say.
"Ok, Karen. Have a nice night."
I wish, I thought. "You too, Mom." I say.
When I pushed the button to switch back to the electric company I was just in time to hear the phone click and hang up. I should have expected the electric company to finally let me through when my mom was distracting me. Well, if I have to stay up, I might as well turn on the tv. Wouldn't you know the couple that had been fighting before were dancing together, looking at each other like they wanted to strip down and buff the dance floor. I dialed the electric company back up, pressed two, and picked up the remote. It wasn't dripping anymore, but it still wasn't working. Maybe it will work in the morning, when it's all dry inside, I thought.
It didn't seem like very long when an operator got on the phone.
"Thank you for calling Consolidated Electric, how may I help you?" she asked.
"Hi, my mom lives at 72 Madison Street and her electric is out. Do you know how long it will be out?" I ask.
"I'm sorry, our coverage area doesn't include Madison Street," she said.
"Well, her electric is out and she wanted me to call and find out how long it will be out. When will your coverage area include Madison Street?" I ask.
"Unfortunately, we don't service that area of town. You need to call her electric provider to find out about her service."
"Well, who is her provider?" I ask.
"I don't know," she said. "It could be Northwest Power, or United Energy Co-op."
"Can't you look it up and see which one it is?" I ask.
"No, I don't have any information on electric service outside of Consolidated Electric's service area. You need to find out which company provides your mother's service and call them."
"Ok," I say, and hang up.
Well, since my fan club wants more of the story, here's a small update.
The Night From Hell
I'm not sure how many songs I sat through when the phone beeped. Someone was calling me, and I didn't have to be psychic to know who it was.
"Hello, Mom," I say.
"Karen, my electric is still out. When are they going to fix it?" my mother asked.
"I don't know," I say. "I'm sure they're working as fast as they can."
"Well, what did they say when you called?" my mother asked.
"They didn't say anything," I say. "I'm still trying to get through to them."
"Oh, ok. Will you call me when you find out?" my mother asked.
"Ok, Mom," I say. "I'm on the phone with them right now."
"Hello, my electric is out. When will it be back on?" my mother asked.
"Mom, who are you talking to?" I ask.
"Didn't you say you had the electric company on the phone?" my mother asked.
"Mom, they can't hear you. I was on hold with them when the call waiting on my phone beeped when you called. Now I have them on hold." I say.
"Well, when you talk to them, will you ask how long my electric will be out?" my mother asked.
"That's the only reason I'm calling them, Mom. When I find anything out I'll call you, ok?" I say.
"Ok, Karen. Have a nice night."
I wish, I thought. "You too, Mom." I say.
When I pushed the button to switch back to the electric company I was just in time to hear the phone click and hang up. I should have expected the electric company to finally let me through when my mom was distracting me. Well, if I have to stay up, I might as well turn on the tv. Wouldn't you know the couple that had been fighting before were dancing together, looking at each other like they wanted to strip down and buff the dance floor. I dialed the electric company back up, pressed two, and picked up the remote. It wasn't dripping anymore, but it still wasn't working. Maybe it will work in the morning, when it's all dry inside, I thought.
It didn't seem like very long when an operator got on the phone.
"Thank you for calling Consolidated Electric, how may I help you?" she asked.
"Hi, my mom lives at 72 Madison Street and her electric is out. Do you know how long it will be out?" I ask.
"I'm sorry, our coverage area doesn't include Madison Street," she said.
"Well, her electric is out and she wanted me to call and find out how long it will be out. When will your coverage area include Madison Street?" I ask.
"Unfortunately, we don't service that area of town. You need to call her electric provider to find out about her service."
"Well, who is her provider?" I ask.
"I don't know," she said. "It could be Northwest Power, or United Energy Co-op."
"Can't you look it up and see which one it is?" I ask.
"No, I don't have any information on electric service outside of Consolidated Electric's service area. You need to find out which company provides your mother's service and call them."
"Ok," I say, and hang up.
Wednesday, November 17, 2004
Look Out Diet
I've been having trouble with my laptop. It was starting to act squirrely, so my husband wiped the hard-drive and re-installed Windows for me. Unfortunately, it didn't come back to full speed. It was sort of like a zombie laptop. So now it's gotten it's ass kicked again, and finally understands who's boss. I still have to install Office. I can't live without my Office. That's where I am compiling my family heirloom, Keith's Kitchen. I am making my own computer cook book, filled with family recipees, some of my own favorite recipees, some that my husband developed, plus tons of recipees from cookbooks, magazines, and on-line. Some of those last catagory are sort of gag recipees, like the one for Roasted Opossom or Thistle Soup. This recipe sounds like one I would actually make. This one sounds delicious.
Carmel Pecan Pretzel Candies
By Carole Lowry, Elsberry, MO
1 pkg. Snyder mini pretzels or small squares
1 13 oz. pkg. Rolo candies (exactly 63 candies)
1 pkg. pecan halves
Preheat oven to 250'. Cover a cookie sheet with aluminum foil and place pretzels individually to form one layer only. Place one Rolo candy on top of each pretzel. Bake at 20' for 4 minutes or until the candies softened. Immediately remove from the oven and quickly place a pecan half on top of a candy and pushy down to squish the chocolate into the pretzel and flatten out. Cool for 20 minutes, then place uncovered in refrigerator for about 20 minutes to set. Transfer to a decorative plate or container. Yield: 63 candies.
Can you say YUMMY?
I've been having trouble with my laptop. It was starting to act squirrely, so my husband wiped the hard-drive and re-installed Windows for me. Unfortunately, it didn't come back to full speed. It was sort of like a zombie laptop. So now it's gotten it's ass kicked again, and finally understands who's boss. I still have to install Office. I can't live without my Office. That's where I am compiling my family heirloom, Keith's Kitchen. I am making my own computer cook book, filled with family recipees, some of my own favorite recipees, some that my husband developed, plus tons of recipees from cookbooks, magazines, and on-line. Some of those last catagory are sort of gag recipees, like the one for Roasted Opossom or Thistle Soup. This recipe sounds like one I would actually make. This one sounds delicious.
Carmel Pecan Pretzel Candies
By Carole Lowry, Elsberry, MO
1 pkg. Snyder mini pretzels or small squares
1 13 oz. pkg. Rolo candies (exactly 63 candies)
1 pkg. pecan halves
Preheat oven to 250'. Cover a cookie sheet with aluminum foil and place pretzels individually to form one layer only. Place one Rolo candy on top of each pretzel. Bake at 20' for 4 minutes or until the candies softened. Immediately remove from the oven and quickly place a pecan half on top of a candy and pushy down to squish the chocolate into the pretzel and flatten out. Cool for 20 minutes, then place uncovered in refrigerator for about 20 minutes to set. Transfer to a decorative plate or container. Yield: 63 candies.
Can you say YUMMY?
Saturday, November 06, 2004
Part Two
Here's more of my story. Enjoy!
The Night From Hell, Continued
I pick the phone book up and flip through a couple of pages, but it’s too dark to see. When I get up to turn on the light I trip over the dog, who yelps and runs to the bedroom. I fall down and smack my shin on the coffee table. Cussing ensues.
I flip on the light and admire the artistic placement of dog tracks leading into the bedroom. The phone book is wet, and the pages stick together when I try to turn the pages. I find the number for the electric company and pick up the phone. Of course, it’s a recording.
“Thank you for choosing Consolidated Electric. Our office hours are from 8 am until 5 pm Monday through Friday and 10 am until 3 pm Saturday. If you need assistance while our office is closed please choose a number from the following selections, and then press the pound button. Press one if you are having an electrical emergency. Press two if you are reporting an outage. Press….”
I press two.
“Thank you for reporting an outage. All operators are busy. Please hold for the next available operator.”
Kenny Rogers starts singing about poker strategy. I sit on the couch, trying to light my cigarette. Kenny finishes singing and is replaced by some country duet singing about their doomed love. When they finish and are replaced by Madonna I decide I’ve had enough and hang up. I decide to try again.
“Thank you for choosing Consolidated Electric. Our office hours are from 8 am until 5 pm Monday through Friday and 10 am until 3 pm Saturday. If you need assistance while our office is closed please choose a number from the following selections, and then press the pound button. Press one if you are having an electrical emergency. Press two if you are reporting an outage. Press three if you have a question about your bill. Press four if….”
I press two.
“Thank you for reporting an outage. All operators are busy. Please hold for the next available operator.”
I enjoy the musical efforts of Air Supply and Elton John before I decide to hang up and try again.
“Thank you for choosing Consolidated Electric. Our office hours are from 8 am until 5 pm Monday through Friday and 10 am until 3 pm Saturday. If you need assistance while our office is closed please choose a number from the following selections, and then press the pound button. Press one if you are having an electrical emergency. Press two if you…”
I decided to press one for a change.
“Thank you for calling Consolidated Electric. How may I assist you?”
I’m shocked that I am actually talking to a person and not listening to more Golden Oldies. “Yeah, my mom’s electric is out and she..”
“I’m sorry, this line is for electrical emergencies only. Please hang up and dial again, choosing the correct button for reporting an electrical outage. Thank you and have a nice day.”
“I called twice already..”
Click, the operator hung up on me before I could finish. I decided to try again.
“Thank you for choosing Consolidated Electric. Our office hours are from 8 am until 5 pm Monday through Friday and 10 am until 3 pm Saturday. If you need assistance while our office is closed please choose a number from the following selections, and then press the pound button. Press one if you are having an electrical emergency. Press two if you are reporting an outage. Press three if you have a question about your bill. Press four if you would like an application to work at Consolidated Electric. Press five if you would like Spanish assistance.”
I try two again.
“Thank you for reporting an outage. All operators are busy. Please hold for the next available operator.”
I sit through four songs before I hang up. I dial again.
“Thank you for choosing Consolidated Electric. Our office hours are from 8 am until 5 pm Monday through Friday and..”
I push one.
“Thank you for calling Consolidated Electric. How may I assist you?”
“Hi, my mom’s electric is out and I can’t get through on…”
“I’m sorry, this line is only for electrical emergencies. If you would like to report an outage you need to call back and push the button for reporting an electrical outage. Have a nice day.”
Click.
This is pissing me off. I finally get the lighter to work, but now my cigarette is wet. I go through the whole pack and find three that are dry. I light one and put the other two in the ashtray where they will stay dry. I dial again.
“Thank you for choosing Consolidated Electric…”
I push two. Maybe I’ve spent my time in purgatory and will be able to reach the operator.
“Thank you for reporting an outage. All operators are busy. Please hold for the next available operator.”
I suffer through six songs from the good old days, finish my cigarette, and then suddenly, like a ray of sunshine, I hear a human voice.
“Thank you for calling Consolidated Electric. How may I assist you?”
Thank God, I think. “Yeah, my mom’s electric is out and she wanted me to call and see what’s up.”
“I’m sorry you’re having problems with your electric. What is your address, please?”
“Well, my address is 154 Glen Oak, but there isn’t any problem at my…”
“Thank you for reporting that outage. We’ll have a crew out to repair your electric as soon as possible. Have a nice day.”
Click.
Shit. I dial again.
“Thank you for choosing…”
I push two and wait. And wait. And wait. And wait some more. Finally I hang up and light another cigarette. By now I know the number by heart.
“Thank you for choosing Consolidated…”
I push one.
“Thank you for calling Consolidated Electric. How may I assist you?”
“Yeah, I just called and the operator hung up on me before I could explain what was wrong.”
“I apologize for that. What is your address?”
“Well, my address is 154 Glen Oak, but I’m calling because my mom’s electric is out and she wanted…”
“I’m sorry, this number is for reporting electrical emergencies. If you are having an outage you need to call back and push correct button.”
“I know, I already…”
“Have a nice day.” Click.
Now I’m really getting pissed. I call back. I should put this number on speed dial.
“Thank you for choosing Consolidated…”
I push two, pick up my empty glass and walk into the kitchen. I fill my glass back up with water, grab a towel, and walk back into the living room. The phone book already soaked up most of the water, but I wiped up what was left.
Here's more of my story. Enjoy!
The Night From Hell, Continued
I pick the phone book up and flip through a couple of pages, but it’s too dark to see. When I get up to turn on the light I trip over the dog, who yelps and runs to the bedroom. I fall down and smack my shin on the coffee table. Cussing ensues.
I flip on the light and admire the artistic placement of dog tracks leading into the bedroom. The phone book is wet, and the pages stick together when I try to turn the pages. I find the number for the electric company and pick up the phone. Of course, it’s a recording.
“Thank you for choosing Consolidated Electric. Our office hours are from 8 am until 5 pm Monday through Friday and 10 am until 3 pm Saturday. If you need assistance while our office is closed please choose a number from the following selections, and then press the pound button. Press one if you are having an electrical emergency. Press two if you are reporting an outage. Press….”
I press two.
“Thank you for reporting an outage. All operators are busy. Please hold for the next available operator.”
Kenny Rogers starts singing about poker strategy. I sit on the couch, trying to light my cigarette. Kenny finishes singing and is replaced by some country duet singing about their doomed love. When they finish and are replaced by Madonna I decide I’ve had enough and hang up. I decide to try again.
“Thank you for choosing Consolidated Electric. Our office hours are from 8 am until 5 pm Monday through Friday and 10 am until 3 pm Saturday. If you need assistance while our office is closed please choose a number from the following selections, and then press the pound button. Press one if you are having an electrical emergency. Press two if you are reporting an outage. Press three if you have a question about your bill. Press four if….”
I press two.
“Thank you for reporting an outage. All operators are busy. Please hold for the next available operator.”
I enjoy the musical efforts of Air Supply and Elton John before I decide to hang up and try again.
“Thank you for choosing Consolidated Electric. Our office hours are from 8 am until 5 pm Monday through Friday and 10 am until 3 pm Saturday. If you need assistance while our office is closed please choose a number from the following selections, and then press the pound button. Press one if you are having an electrical emergency. Press two if you…”
I decided to press one for a change.
“Thank you for calling Consolidated Electric. How may I assist you?”
I’m shocked that I am actually talking to a person and not listening to more Golden Oldies. “Yeah, my mom’s electric is out and she..”
“I’m sorry, this line is for electrical emergencies only. Please hang up and dial again, choosing the correct button for reporting an electrical outage. Thank you and have a nice day.”
“I called twice already..”
Click, the operator hung up on me before I could finish. I decided to try again.
“Thank you for choosing Consolidated Electric. Our office hours are from 8 am until 5 pm Monday through Friday and 10 am until 3 pm Saturday. If you need assistance while our office is closed please choose a number from the following selections, and then press the pound button. Press one if you are having an electrical emergency. Press two if you are reporting an outage. Press three if you have a question about your bill. Press four if you would like an application to work at Consolidated Electric. Press five if you would like Spanish assistance.”
I try two again.
“Thank you for reporting an outage. All operators are busy. Please hold for the next available operator.”
I sit through four songs before I hang up. I dial again.
“Thank you for choosing Consolidated Electric. Our office hours are from 8 am until 5 pm Monday through Friday and..”
I push one.
“Thank you for calling Consolidated Electric. How may I assist you?”
“Hi, my mom’s electric is out and I can’t get through on…”
“I’m sorry, this line is only for electrical emergencies. If you would like to report an outage you need to call back and push the button for reporting an electrical outage. Have a nice day.”
Click.
This is pissing me off. I finally get the lighter to work, but now my cigarette is wet. I go through the whole pack and find three that are dry. I light one and put the other two in the ashtray where they will stay dry. I dial again.
“Thank you for choosing Consolidated Electric…”
I push two. Maybe I’ve spent my time in purgatory and will be able to reach the operator.
“Thank you for reporting an outage. All operators are busy. Please hold for the next available operator.”
I suffer through six songs from the good old days, finish my cigarette, and then suddenly, like a ray of sunshine, I hear a human voice.
“Thank you for calling Consolidated Electric. How may I assist you?”
Thank God, I think. “Yeah, my mom’s electric is out and she wanted me to call and see what’s up.”
“I’m sorry you’re having problems with your electric. What is your address, please?”
“Well, my address is 154 Glen Oak, but there isn’t any problem at my…”
“Thank you for reporting that outage. We’ll have a crew out to repair your electric as soon as possible. Have a nice day.”
Click.
Shit. I dial again.
“Thank you for choosing…”
I push two and wait. And wait. And wait. And wait some more. Finally I hang up and light another cigarette. By now I know the number by heart.
“Thank you for choosing Consolidated…”
I push one.
“Thank you for calling Consolidated Electric. How may I assist you?”
“Yeah, I just called and the operator hung up on me before I could explain what was wrong.”
“I apologize for that. What is your address?”
“Well, my address is 154 Glen Oak, but I’m calling because my mom’s electric is out and she wanted…”
“I’m sorry, this number is for reporting electrical emergencies. If you are having an outage you need to call back and push correct button.”
“I know, I already…”
“Have a nice day.” Click.
Now I’m really getting pissed. I call back. I should put this number on speed dial.
“Thank you for choosing Consolidated…”
I push two, pick up my empty glass and walk into the kitchen. I fill my glass back up with water, grab a towel, and walk back into the living room. The phone book already soaked up most of the water, but I wiped up what was left.
Thursday, November 04, 2004
It Was A Dark And Stormy Night
I have a new project. There is a web site that is encouraging everybody to write a novel in November. These are the rules:
I have only have 3 pages so far, but I'm having fun writing it. I'm challenging my mom and sister to write stories of their own. I'm not planning on writing 175 pages. I'm going to post what I have so far, but no, I'm nothing like the woman in the story, and no, my mom isn't anything like the mom in the story. They are nothing like us. Nothing. Really.
The Night From Hell
It was a dark and stormy night. A loud crash woke me up from the fitful sleep I had been suffering through. First I had to get up and close the window when the rain started. Then the dog decided he had to go outside, but didn’t want to get wet, so he just stood on the porch looking out at the rain and up at me, like he was waiting for me to make the rain stop so he could go pee. Finally I told him to just go take care of business. “Shit or get off the pot,” I said, and gave him a little shove to encourage him to get off the porch.
He got even with me by jumping up on the bed and rolling all over to dry himself off. Of course, I left the cover pulled down when I got up to let him out, so he soaked the sheets. I crawled into bed and tried to find a dry spot, but after tossing and turning for a couple of minutes I gave up and went looking for clean sheets. After I changed the sheets and crawled back into bed I noticed the pillowcase was also wet, and smelled of stinky wet dog, but I was too tired to get back up and find another pillowcase so I just pulled off the wet one and threw it on the floor beside the bed.
It felt like I had just gotten back to sleep when the phone rang. I ignored it as long as I could, then sighed and got up. Of course, my foot slipped on the pillowcase and I almost rammed my forehead into the doorjamb. I was halfway down the hall on my way to answer the phone when it quit ringing. I was too tired to even cuss, so I just turned around and started walking back to my bedroom.
When I walked past the kitchen I decided to stop and get a quick drink of water. I had just filled the glass when the phone rang again. This time I wasn’t too tired to cuss. “Fuck,” I said. I walked back down the hallway, drinking my glass of water. What vital issue of national security caused someone to call me twice in the middle of the night? It was my mother on the phone. Her electric was out and she wanted to know if mine was also out. What a thoughtful mother. I have heard of animals that eat their young, but this made me wonder if any young ate their parents.
Was my electric out? I didn’t know. When I let the dog out I hadn’t turned on any lights. I picked up the remote control to see if the television would come on. Of course, I had been watching a movie on cable when I went to bed, and the cable channel was showing a different movie now. Some sort of chic flic, and right when the TV came on the main character is yelling at her boyfriend.
“Who is that woman?” my mother asked.
“I hope you rot in Hell!” screamed the woman on TV.
“She sure sounds mad. Is she talking to you or me?” my mother asked.
I reach over to pick the remote back up, and knocked over my glass of water. “Fuck.” I said and grabbed the remote. Too late, it was full of water and dripped when I picked it up.
“Are you cursing at me?” my mother asked.
“Shit.” I sighed. “No, Mom, I’m not cussing at you.”
“Well who is that woman, and why is she yelling at you?” my mother asked.
“All you want to do is screw me and leave, isn’t it?” asked the woman on TV.
I shook as much water out of the remote as I could and pushed the button. Nothing.
“Fuck,” I said again.
“What!?” my mother asked. “Are you gay?” she whispered.
“No, Mom, I’m not gay.” I roll my eyes and shake the remote some more. Still nothing. I get up to turn off the TV.
“At least I haven’t slept with your best friend!” yelled the man on TV.
“Who is he!?” my mother asked. “What’s going on over there? Are you having a party?”
“No, Mom, I’m not having a party.” I bent over and started to turn off the TV. “I’m not having a party and I’m not gay. That’s some movie. I turned on the TV to see if the electric was on or not.”
“What are you watching?” my mother asked.
“I’m not watching anything, Mom, there’s just a movie on TV.” I said.
“Well, what is it?” my mother asked.
“I don’t know,” I said, “some stupid movie I’ve never seen.”
My TV has a little door covering the buttons to turn it on or off, up or down. It never made any sense, covering up the buttons. Like they needed protection from something. I picked at the little door with my finger, looking for the little catch. I tried opening the door, but it didn’t want to open.
The woman on TV slammed the door as she left the room.
“What was that noise?” my mother asked.
“It was the TV, Mom,” I say, and pry at the little door harder. My fingernail decides it’s time to snap and break off. “Fuck,” I say.
“What did you say?” my mother asked. “You shouldn’t use language like that, Karen. No wonder you don’t have a husband.”
While I’m looking at my stubby, jagged fingernail, I notice big muddy paw prints running by in front of the TV. They flickered and vanished, then reappeared when the light from the TV changed. “Shit,” I say.
The scene on TV changed to the man sitting at a bar with another man. Night Moves played on the jukebox. “I don’t know why you ever listened to that bitch,” said the second man, and ordered another beer.
“You are having a party, aren’t you?” my mother asked.
“No, Mom, it’s just the TV.” I pick at the door with the other hand, and realize I had been pulling down when I should have been pulling up. Out popped the little door, exposing the delicate buttons.
“I don’t know why you ever slept with her,” said the man on TV, and lit a cigarette.
I punch the off button and am plunged into darkness.
“Well, why don’t you turn it off?” my mother asked.
“I did, Mom,” I say, and turn to walk back over to the couch, neatly stubbing my little toe on the edge of the coffee table. “Mother fucker,” I say as I hobble the rest of the way to the couch.
“I thought you said you turned off the TV. Who said that?” my mother asked.
“I did, Mom,” I say. “I broke a nail and just stubbed my toe and it hurt and I said a bad word. Are you going to come over here and ground me?” I grabbed my cigarettes from the coffee table. Half the pack was soaking wet, but I was able to find a dry one. I picked up the lighter but couldn’t get a spark. The plague of locusts must be on its way, I thought.
“Well, why aren’t you in bed?” my mother asked.
“I was in bed, Mom,” I say. “I got out of bed to answer the phone.”
“Oh, that’s right, I called you. Is your electric out?” my mother asked.
“Mom, you heard the TV,” I say. “How could my TV be on if the electric was out?”
“I thought you turned your TV off?” my mother asked.
Jesus Christ, Mary and Joseph, I thought. “Have you been drinking?”
“How can you ask me that, Karen?” my mother asked. “You know I don’t drink.”
“You’re driving me insane, Mom,” I say. “Can we hang up now?”
“Will you call the electric company for me?” my mother asked.
“Why do you want me to call?” I ask.
“I can’t call them. How can I find the number in the dark?” my mother asked.
“Just call information,” I say. “They’ll give you the number. You won’t even have to dial it.”
“How can I call information if I don’t dial the phone?” my mother asked.
“Alright, alright, I’ll call,” I say. “Jesus, Mom, maybe you should start drinking.”
“Karen! How can you talk to me like that?” my mother asked.
“I’m just kidding, Mom,” I say. “I’m going to call for you, ok?”
“Ok, if you want to.” And Mom hung up. Halleluiah, I thought. Now I just have to find the phone book. I look on the end table, I look under the end table. I look on the coffee table. Yes, of course, sitting in the puddle, soaking up the water like a sponge.
I have a new project. There is a web site that is encouraging everybody to write a novel in November. These are the rules:
National Novel Writing Month is a fun, seat-of-your-pants approach to novel writing. Participants begin writing November 1. The goal is to write a 175-page (50,000-word) novel by midnight, November 30.
I have only have 3 pages so far, but I'm having fun writing it. I'm challenging my mom and sister to write stories of their own. I'm not planning on writing 175 pages. I'm going to post what I have so far, but no, I'm nothing like the woman in the story, and no, my mom isn't anything like the mom in the story. They are nothing like us. Nothing. Really.
The Night From Hell
It was a dark and stormy night. A loud crash woke me up from the fitful sleep I had been suffering through. First I had to get up and close the window when the rain started. Then the dog decided he had to go outside, but didn’t want to get wet, so he just stood on the porch looking out at the rain and up at me, like he was waiting for me to make the rain stop so he could go pee. Finally I told him to just go take care of business. “Shit or get off the pot,” I said, and gave him a little shove to encourage him to get off the porch.
He got even with me by jumping up on the bed and rolling all over to dry himself off. Of course, I left the cover pulled down when I got up to let him out, so he soaked the sheets. I crawled into bed and tried to find a dry spot, but after tossing and turning for a couple of minutes I gave up and went looking for clean sheets. After I changed the sheets and crawled back into bed I noticed the pillowcase was also wet, and smelled of stinky wet dog, but I was too tired to get back up and find another pillowcase so I just pulled off the wet one and threw it on the floor beside the bed.
It felt like I had just gotten back to sleep when the phone rang. I ignored it as long as I could, then sighed and got up. Of course, my foot slipped on the pillowcase and I almost rammed my forehead into the doorjamb. I was halfway down the hall on my way to answer the phone when it quit ringing. I was too tired to even cuss, so I just turned around and started walking back to my bedroom.
When I walked past the kitchen I decided to stop and get a quick drink of water. I had just filled the glass when the phone rang again. This time I wasn’t too tired to cuss. “Fuck,” I said. I walked back down the hallway, drinking my glass of water. What vital issue of national security caused someone to call me twice in the middle of the night? It was my mother on the phone. Her electric was out and she wanted to know if mine was also out. What a thoughtful mother. I have heard of animals that eat their young, but this made me wonder if any young ate their parents.
Was my electric out? I didn’t know. When I let the dog out I hadn’t turned on any lights. I picked up the remote control to see if the television would come on. Of course, I had been watching a movie on cable when I went to bed, and the cable channel was showing a different movie now. Some sort of chic flic, and right when the TV came on the main character is yelling at her boyfriend.
“Who is that woman?” my mother asked.
“I hope you rot in Hell!” screamed the woman on TV.
“She sure sounds mad. Is she talking to you or me?” my mother asked.
I reach over to pick the remote back up, and knocked over my glass of water. “Fuck.” I said and grabbed the remote. Too late, it was full of water and dripped when I picked it up.
“Are you cursing at me?” my mother asked.
“Shit.” I sighed. “No, Mom, I’m not cussing at you.”
“Well who is that woman, and why is she yelling at you?” my mother asked.
“All you want to do is screw me and leave, isn’t it?” asked the woman on TV.
I shook as much water out of the remote as I could and pushed the button. Nothing.
“Fuck,” I said again.
“What!?” my mother asked. “Are you gay?” she whispered.
“No, Mom, I’m not gay.” I roll my eyes and shake the remote some more. Still nothing. I get up to turn off the TV.
“At least I haven’t slept with your best friend!” yelled the man on TV.
“Who is he!?” my mother asked. “What’s going on over there? Are you having a party?”
“No, Mom, I’m not having a party.” I bent over and started to turn off the TV. “I’m not having a party and I’m not gay. That’s some movie. I turned on the TV to see if the electric was on or not.”
“What are you watching?” my mother asked.
“I’m not watching anything, Mom, there’s just a movie on TV.” I said.
“Well, what is it?” my mother asked.
“I don’t know,” I said, “some stupid movie I’ve never seen.”
My TV has a little door covering the buttons to turn it on or off, up or down. It never made any sense, covering up the buttons. Like they needed protection from something. I picked at the little door with my finger, looking for the little catch. I tried opening the door, but it didn’t want to open.
The woman on TV slammed the door as she left the room.
“What was that noise?” my mother asked.
“It was the TV, Mom,” I say, and pry at the little door harder. My fingernail decides it’s time to snap and break off. “Fuck,” I say.
“What did you say?” my mother asked. “You shouldn’t use language like that, Karen. No wonder you don’t have a husband.”
While I’m looking at my stubby, jagged fingernail, I notice big muddy paw prints running by in front of the TV. They flickered and vanished, then reappeared when the light from the TV changed. “Shit,” I say.
The scene on TV changed to the man sitting at a bar with another man. Night Moves played on the jukebox. “I don’t know why you ever listened to that bitch,” said the second man, and ordered another beer.
“You are having a party, aren’t you?” my mother asked.
“No, Mom, it’s just the TV.” I pick at the door with the other hand, and realize I had been pulling down when I should have been pulling up. Out popped the little door, exposing the delicate buttons.
“I don’t know why you ever slept with her,” said the man on TV, and lit a cigarette.
I punch the off button and am plunged into darkness.
“Well, why don’t you turn it off?” my mother asked.
“I did, Mom,” I say, and turn to walk back over to the couch, neatly stubbing my little toe on the edge of the coffee table. “Mother fucker,” I say as I hobble the rest of the way to the couch.
“I thought you said you turned off the TV. Who said that?” my mother asked.
“I did, Mom,” I say. “I broke a nail and just stubbed my toe and it hurt and I said a bad word. Are you going to come over here and ground me?” I grabbed my cigarettes from the coffee table. Half the pack was soaking wet, but I was able to find a dry one. I picked up the lighter but couldn’t get a spark. The plague of locusts must be on its way, I thought.
“Well, why aren’t you in bed?” my mother asked.
“I was in bed, Mom,” I say. “I got out of bed to answer the phone.”
“Oh, that’s right, I called you. Is your electric out?” my mother asked.
“Mom, you heard the TV,” I say. “How could my TV be on if the electric was out?”
“I thought you turned your TV off?” my mother asked.
Jesus Christ, Mary and Joseph, I thought. “Have you been drinking?”
“How can you ask me that, Karen?” my mother asked. “You know I don’t drink.”
“You’re driving me insane, Mom,” I say. “Can we hang up now?”
“Will you call the electric company for me?” my mother asked.
“Why do you want me to call?” I ask.
“I can’t call them. How can I find the number in the dark?” my mother asked.
“Just call information,” I say. “They’ll give you the number. You won’t even have to dial it.”
“How can I call information if I don’t dial the phone?” my mother asked.
“Alright, alright, I’ll call,” I say. “Jesus, Mom, maybe you should start drinking.”
“Karen! How can you talk to me like that?” my mother asked.
“I’m just kidding, Mom,” I say. “I’m going to call for you, ok?”
“Ok, if you want to.” And Mom hung up. Halleluiah, I thought. Now I just have to find the phone book. I look on the end table, I look under the end table. I look on the coffee table. Yes, of course, sitting in the puddle, soaking up the water like a sponge.
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