Bad dates and all... Part one...

If you are like me, you probably been on an awkward date or have had a great date but have turns out that the other person was really that interested. With every encounter I have had, I figure there are a couple things I have learned, or in a couple of cases, been reminded of what not to do:

1) Having a sense of humor helps but know when to use it. I think it is obvious that everyone has some kind of humor but not always have the same kind.
Case in point when it works: I was working in Florida in early 2001 when I was in college. I was heading home from work and was joking with coworkers. A cute woman kept butting in with the conversation. I didn't think much of it at the time until weeks later I saw the same cutie near where I was living at the time. We joked around again and, long story short, she and I dated for over 8 months.
Case in point when it doesn't work: I was on a date where a woman and I met up for a movie then dinner. The ads/previews were about to roll when I jokingly tapped her on the shoulder and sad "Tag, you're it". Sufficed to say, she and I did not have dinner that night.
Long story short: Know your audience when you try to be funny....

2) Be honest, with yourself and her. If you go on a 1st date, and you get a gut feeling it isn't worth a second date, it sometimes isn't. I have had a couple of dates where it was a good time but knew we didn't have the chemistry. On the times that I listened to my gut, I tactfully said that it was fun but there wasn't anything there. On the time or two where I could tell that there wasn't chemistry and I went ahead anyways with a second date, it usually ends up in a debacle. It is important to point out that you got to say something to the other person, tactfully, if you know it will be one date and done kind of situation.

Hope this helps!

Pertante

To Nano or Not to Nano?

It's almost November and it means I still have to decide to do National North American Novel Writing Month... I have a fresh idea or two but it means acting on that or finishing other story ideas... Decisions, decisions....

2nd Sip

The morning alarm went off for the nth time and Tom hit the snooze button again. A groggy eye pried itself open enough to see a note obscuring the alarm clock, and fact that he was late. He moved the note and his tired eyes nearly fell out of his head when Tom saw it was 8:30 AM. Tom’s heart raced when he remembered he needed to be at the court house at 9 am for a bullshit ticket and had no time to do anything. He jumped out of bed with his mind racing at what he needed to do with note still in hand. Before doing a full charge into the shower, Tom stopped dead in his tracks to read the note.

            He could tell that Stephanie was pissed with him because the note was missing the usual heart shapes added to the punctuation to be cute. It simply stated “How could you say that?”

            ‘What did I say?’ crossed Tom’s mind. He strained his brain to remember what he could have possibly said last night to upset Stephanie. This was cut short by Tom’s feeling he was wasting time and darted once again for the shower. The water in the shower was cold and he nearly forgot to take off his boxer shorts and his tee shirt.

            After a hack job of a shave and rush job on getting dressed, Tom bolted out the door. He saw 2 taxis parked at the corner. He hesitated for a moment because his whole court appearance was related to an incident involving a cab, but decided why not? He waved the second taxi down and got in. A nauseating mix of scents, including sex and pine air fresheners invaded Tom’s nasal cavity. His eyes bulged when he saw the cabbie’s id. The realization struck him full on when he noticed the cabbie staring back at him in the rear view mirror. Certainly an id and set of eyes Tom did not want to see today of all days. “The Cambridge court house, please” Tom said, trying to sound calm and collected.

            “Ah, so we meet again” snorted the cabbie with a thick accent. “You have your appearance today, no?”

            “Um, yeah” Tom replied, not liking where this was going but knew today was going to be one of those days. It was one of those days in the sense of where Murphy’s Law of Anything that could go wrong, will go wrong was strictly enforced. Tom wondered if he read about that in his physics class when they were studying entropy in school or if it was the 11^th commandment he heard something about during a random church service.

            “Funny thing is that I go to court today too.” A hint of jovial comradery was in the cabbie’s voice. “Who knew you couldn’t have sex while on duty?”

            “Who knew you could get fined for looking into a car window?” replied Tom, rolling his eyes in a defeated tone.

            “Hey what time is you be there?”

            “In 10 minutes.”

            “No worry, I know short cuts!” The cabbie peeled out and pulled in front of the taxi in front of them and sped through the intersection. The acceleration of the taxi did not mix well with the already present nausea. After a block or two, the cabbie made a sharp turn, sending Tom to the other side of the back seat. Several blocks later, sirens were heard and flashing lights were seen in the rear view mirror.

            “Hey no worry, I still get you there!” The cabbie’s confidence never wavered in his voice.

            “Great” said Tom while gulping a bit of throw up.

            After several agonizing minutes, they pulled up in front of the court house. Tom threw $20 into the front seat and scrambled to get out. A pair of cop cars pulled up with lights flashing. Tom put his hands into the air and did everything he could not to truly vomit this time or piss himself. After several minutes, Tom had to explain that he only wanted to go to a hearing regarding a ticket, that no he didn’t ask the cabbie to speed nor nearly hit anyone. The cops let him go but arrested him on speeding as well as outstanding warrants and tickets.

            ‘9:07, great!’ thought Tom after he got through security as fast as he could. He made his way to the court room and saw the court clerk to one side of the room.

            “I’m here” he said to the clerk.

            “And you are?” said the clerk, looking over a pair of half specticules that hung from her nose.

            “Thomas Happenstance, Ma’am. I’m here regarding a ticket.”

            “Aren’t you a little late?” she replied in a nasal tone and regarding the court docket.

            “Sorry about that, traffic issues” Tom shrugged.

            “Look, fortunately for you we have a light day but the judge hates waiting for anyone.” The clerk turned and went over to the judge with an uptight air in her walk after the judge finished with another ticket dispute. The clerk whispered in the judge’s ear, which resulted in the judge’s eyes rolling.

He boomed in a loud voice “Next case People versus Thomas Xavier Finnegan Happenstance, in regards to unlawful and lewd glaring into a car window in the city of Milford. Now, normally I regard charges of this nature to be a waste of the court’s time. However, I consider the plantif’s disregard to timeliness a bigger waste of the court’s time. So do you have anything to say sir?”

            Tom took a deep breathe and wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. “Firstly, your honor, I do apologize for the inconvience of being late.” The judge nodded in appreciation for Tom’s apology. “Secondly, I was unaware of the law. I was just trying…”

            The judge cleared his throat, indicating that he wanted to speak. “I know the law is a bit obscure but I would advise that you familiarize yourself with all the laws of your community and adhere to them. Ignorance is not a proper excuse. And for all we know, you could have been considering…”

            Before the judge could say ‘Breaking and Entering’, the taxi driver that drove Tom to the court (and frankly, the basis for the charge) barged into the courtroom, handcuffed. Two guards and a couple of police officers, all winded, ran in and tackled the taxi driver. “I throw me at mercy of court. I’m why he late”, was heard though muffled, in the taxi driver’s accent.

            The judge, standing and a deep shade of red in the face, screamed “This is not a circus. Get that man out of here.” The judge shook his gavel to the point of nearly throwing it.

            “But it is my fault” protested the driver as he was half dragged, half carried out of the courtroom. At this point, Tom decided to agree plead guilty and to the judge’s ruling including a reasonable fine, a few hours of community service, and a written apology to the court for both his lateness and the interruption, regardless of the fact that the interruption was not his fault. The court adjourned much to Tom’s relief as he hurried out to catch the bus. By the time he reached the front steps of the courthouse, a tow truck was pulling away with the infamous cab hitched up.

            Tom checked his watch and after noticing he was uber late for work, a rain drop hit his watch. ‘Fortunately I forgot an umbrella’ thought Tom. He started down the stairs when a familiar voice called to him. It was Ivory, Tom’s ex, dressed in a suit and carrying an umbrella walking up the side walk. Next to her was a man dressed in an expensive suit carrying an expensive brief case and an umbrella.

            “Hi” said Ivory. “Funny meeting you here.” Her tone suggested a morbid curiousity and an awkward pleasure to see him again.

            “Hey” replied Tom. “Yeah some stupid fine I got for looking into a car window.”

            “That’s a law?” Ivory asked, a bit taken aback.

            “In Milford it is. Hi I’m Tom.” At this last part he extended his hand to offer it towards the man in the suit.

            “Mark Shlum” replied the man and shook Tom’s hand.

            “Ivory’s attorney, huh?” asked Tom. Ivory bit her lip while her cheeks reddened. “Saw the news…” said Tom before Ivory replied. By then the rain was starting to come down a little harder. Mark and Ivory opened their umbrellas.

            “We should get going” said Mark.

            “Good luck” Tom half beemed.

            Ivory looked down briefly and said dejectedly said “Call me….”

            “We’ll see…” Tom turned and walked away with a shit eating grin on his face. Just then a streak of lightning crossed the sky. He got to a bus stop with a place to stand under and waited. At least 2 buses heading the other way passed over the next twenty minutes while Tom waited at the stop. The rain was starting to come down harder and he was fortunate to have some sort of semidry spot to wait. He couldn’t stop thinking of how weird it was to not only see Ivory but also the fact that she still wanted to talk to him. This was especially amazing considering the fall out that they had. He shrugged his shoulders in a ‘I don’t get it’ kind of gesture.

            Finally a bus pulled up in front of the stop. Tom got on only slightly drenched from the on coming rain and splash from the puddle in front of the stop. “Howdy” said the elderly driver in a friendly but familiar tone.

            Tom looked up from the fumbling he was doing with his wallet for his bus pass. “Hey I met you on the subway, didn’t I?”

            “Yes sir” replied the driver.

            “I didn’t know you were a bus driver.”

            “Well I decided on my trip, the last time you saw me, to take a job in the big city. Before this I was a pomegranate fruit farmer.”

            “Really? For how long if you don’t mind me asking?”

            “For the last 100, maybe 120 years or so.”

            “Yeah right” Tom chuckled.

            “Well I didn’t do it all my life. A man sometimes has to make changes in his life.”

            “Very true” Tom said as he continued for his bus pass.

The bus driver noticed this and said “This one’s on me kid. Hope you don’t mind me asking but any luck with that girl wearing the crazy get up?”

            “You mean the bells and whistles?” The bus driver nodded. “Yeah, her name is Stephanie. She and I have been dating for a little while now.”

            The bus driver nodded and an approving “Ah”. After a brief silence, he added “And?”

            “And what?” asked Tom with a hint of confusion in his voice.

            “And it sounds like that everything isn’t milk and honey” replied the bus driver.

            “Well I found a note saying that she’s mad at me for something I said. The thing that’s bugging me is that I have no idea what I said.”

            “Do you thing it’s not what you said but how you said it?” The driver gave a sideways glance.

 Tom mulled this over, nearing kicking himself for not considering this angle. They were watching TV last night. Tom was half zoning out and sipping on a beer. Stephanie was flipping through a magazine and started talking about some relationship article. Tom thought she was talking about ex’s but it didn’t help that he was only half paying attention when she was asking him a few questions. All he could remember was saying “Maybe” before she got up and stormed off. Tom tried to apologize but she wouldn’t talk to him. And when he crawled into bed, she wouldn’t let him hold her. He racked his brain about what she could have asked about his ex’s and if they pertained specifically to Ivory.

            “You could be right!” said Tom. “She asked me something but I guess I wasn’t paying close enough attention.”

            “That could do it” replied the bus driver. “Last stop.”

            “Thanks again” Tom said as he got off the bus. The rain was falling so hard that Noah may have felt a little under prepared. Tom made his way under an awning and fumbled in his pockets for some change to get the local news paper. He also pulled out his cell phone to call the office to let him know he was on his way. Theresa, the ever enthusiastic receptionist answered after a few rings.

“Hello feather boy” she said. This was one of her jabs, letting him know that she’ll never let him forget his tar/feather/wool blend outfit with sensible shoes and a matching necktie that he wore to his interview.

“Hello Theresa, pleasure as always. Just wanted to let you know I was on my way.”

“So you’re done with your peeping…Tom…charges?” He could tell that the receptionist was trying to hold back her laughter.

“Thank you, Hyena!” At this point a homeless bum smoking a cigarette staggered onto the platform. “Just let Mr. Wadsmith know I’m on my way.”

            “Sure, we’ll see you when you fly over” Theresa snorted and hung up.

            ‘God I hate her sometimes’ Tom thought.

“Spare some change”  slurred a homeless bum asked Tom. The bum was smoking a cigarette and waffed of booze.

“Sorry, no” Tom replied, trying to sound respectful.

“Come on, pal. I haven’t eaten in days” the bum replied as he took a drag.

Tom was tempted to make a crack about the cigarettes but thought better of it. “I’m broke, sorry.”          

“You guys are all alike.” At this point, the bum was yelling. “Sorry this and no that! What’s a guy to do…” The bum stopped mid-sentence and started clutching his stomach. Tom stepped back a few steps but a little late. The bum vomited with bits hitting his shoes. Fortunately a subway cop saw this and interjected. A nearby news stand had napkins for Tom to clean his shoes. Tom caught the subway but had to pay cash since he could not find his subway pass.

Tom got to the office just as the rain had subsided. As he walked through the front door, Theresa had her feet up, intently working on her nails. “Finally you’re here” she said.

“Glad to see you too”, replied Tom as he wiped his feet.

“The meeting started 10 or 15 minutes ago.” She blew on a finger as she regarded him with accusatory eyes.

“Which meeting?” Tom replied with his eyes nearly popping out of his head.

“Oh, you know those meetings Mr. Wadsmith likes to spring on everyone” she stated as she looked back at her nails.

            “And you didn’t tell me on the phone, why?”

            “He called it after you hung up.” She started working on the hand.

            Tom exhaled. “Conference room I assume?”

            “Yup!”

            Tom ran to his office to grab an extra shirt he kept handy in cases like this. After changing his skirt, he grabbed a notebook and went to the conference room, entering as quietly as he could. Mr. Wadsmith was talking in a jovial voice, which was often times not a good sign.

            “Ah, Mr. Happenstance so glad you could join us.” Mr. Wadsmith said upon seeing Tom. Fred Jones, the office manager and sometimes sales rep was seating at one side of the table. Gene, one of the brokers in the office, was sitting next to him. On the opposite side of the table, were two men that he never met before.

            “Now I would like you to meet Mr. Jacobvich and Mr. Ritts of the NASD. They have a few questions regarding a particular account. We were hoping you could shed some light on the issue.” Mr. Wadsmith smiled a desperate smile.

            Tom stepped into the room and said “Sure, I would be glad to.” For the next 2 hours, Tom was questioned about a particular account that was for a Mrs. Larson, a 79 year old woman who had an account that lost money and owed the firm some substantial fees. Tom answered the questions as directly and as honestly as he could, while occasionally offering documentation to support some of his answers. Some of his answers drew concerning looks from Mr. Wadsmith and the others of his firm. As it turned out that, it was decided that the client was the one at fault and was probably bitter about the situation. The rest of the day was spent as a catch up for missed time.

            On the way home Tom stopped too purchase a new subway and bus combination pass. He noticed that one of the windows had no line to it and approached without thinking much about it. As he asked the agent for a pass, he could hear a voice say “Excuse me.”

            He turned and could see a long line at the neighboring window. A woman stood between the 2 agents with her hands on her hips, obviously annoyed. “Yes?” asked Tom, slightly confused.

            “I believe I was next” said the woman.

            “But there was no line at this window.”

            “Did you not see this line?” smirked the woman.

            “Yes for that window maybe” stated Tom.

            “This” said the woman, her tone more irate, “is the line for both windows!”

            “If that is the line for both windows, why isn’t it over more or even two lines?” Tom pulled out his wallet and paid for his pass.

            “You got some nerve, you know that?”

            “Sorry” said Tom as he walked away.

He pulled out his cell phone as he approached the subway entrance. He noticed that he had a voicemail and missed a call from Stephanie.  He checked it and listened. “Hey Tom, we need to talk. Love you” was all Stephanie said in the message. Tom rolled his eyes as he hung up. Seconds later, Ivory called. He debated for a second to not answer this call but decided to anyways. ”Hello?”

“Hi” replied Ivory. “I was hoping we could talk…”

“I guess” replied Tom.

“Look, I’m sorry things didn’t go so well and…” She let out a sigh. “I kind of miss you.”

Tom tried to think of what to say to this, considering he had one of the shittiest days in a long while, possibly ever. “I… I’m kind of lost for words. I do appreciate that..”

“I understand… Look I was hoping to see you if that’s ok.”

“Well, I’m seeing someone right now. I don’t know if…”

“…I understand” Ivory replied. “I probably should let you go then.”

“Ivory, thank you for the call” said Tom before hanging up.

When Tom got home, Stephanie was on the couch watching TV. He walked over to her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Hi, there. Still mad at me?”

“Well I don’t know if mad is there word...”

“Ok so what is the word?’’ asked Tom.

“Pregnant.”

“What?” Tom’s eyes bulged.

“Tom, I’m pregnant.”

Tom’s life flashed before his eyes and promptly passed out….

---

 [TCKBAR1]Flesh out

 [TCKBAR2]Another encounter with the taxi driver?

Pomegranate Juice

The sun was shining in the sky over the Boston landscape. It was a warm spring day and only a few clouds hung lazily as a light breeze moved them along. On

Commercial Street

, business as usual was taking place. A man in dirty overalls and a cowboy hat was trying frantically to gather a bunch of chickens that had been let loose into the back of his truck. Two construction workers, who could pass as bikers in their spare time, were laughing uproariously. Tom walked into the lobby of Global Funds Brokerage with feathers tarred to his sport coat and his hair. He did everything he could to keep his panic at bay; the interview for margin clerk was in 10 minutes with no time to freshen up. The way things were going as of late, he had nothing to lose he kept telling himself. He walked up to receptionist’s desk and cleared his throat.

            The receptionist behind the front desk appeared to have taken some relief in a fashion magazine. Her posture suggested that without such a distraction, death from boredom was eminent. After a moment, she glanced up with disdain and growing disbelief.

            “May I help you?” she asked attempting not to bust out laughing.

            “I’m here for the 11am interview” replied Tom in as professional a tone as he could muster.

            The receptionist put down the magazine and leaned over the desk. “Really?” she asked.

            “Yes, really” replied Tom trying to hide the edge of annoyance in his voice.

            “Ok” quipped the receptionist, putting a hand over her mouth in a poor attempt to hide the smirk on her face without success. “I’ll call Mr. Wadsmith. Do you wish to freshen up first?”

            “I am fine, thank you….” Tom said shortly.

            “Please have a seat…” said the receptionist. Tom turned to sit down and did everything he could not to notice the receptionist’s laughter.

In Mr. Wadsmith’s office, he was completing the final touches of the latest in New Age interview techniques. On Mr. Wadsmith’s desk was a copy of Getting to the Interview Point: New Techniques in How to Tell the Real Person from the Candidate by Dr. John Robert Jackson, the 3^rd, PHD. On the ground sat a mat covered with egg shells. Some of the shells were the plastic shells often used for panty hose; others were candy shells while the majority remained all natural brown or white chicken egg shells. The point of the exercise, according to chapter 23 of the Interview Zen book, is how the interviewee got past the mat of egg shells. Those who walked around the mat were ones who avoided problems. Those who trudged right through without concern for the eggshells or without any grace were thought to be not careful about details or other’s opinions. Finally, those who could navigate the mat without breaking a shell or those who jumped over the mat were thought as ideal candidates. This suggested that the candidate was graceful, can navigate any situation and/or overcome any obstacle.

Over the intercom, Mr. Wadsmith heard a bit of laughter and that the 11 o’clock was here, with feathers but no bells and whistles. He mumbled to himself as he walked over the intercom on his desk that the receptionist was a little bit daft. Before hitting the button on the intercom, Mr. Wadsmith looked up at a clock that was counting the time until his retirement. Underneath the clock hung a sign that said So much time to care so little!  A smile crept over his face at reading this. “Send him in” he answered as he waited behind his desk with great anticipation. His eyes bulged when he saw Tom enter truly covered with feathers, but no bells nor whistles. Mr. Wadsmith’s jaw dropped when Tom stepped gently on one of the plastic egg containers without breaking it and clearing the mat with a small hop.

Tom crossed the room and extended his hand. With a confident tone, he stated “Hello Mr. Wadsmith, I’m Tom Happenstance. Pleased to meet you!”

After a pause, Mr. Wadsmith replied “You’re covered in feathers!”

A bit dejected, Tom replied “I had a bit of a run in this morning.”

“With Big Bird?”

“No sir, two members of a bicycle gang that have a qualm with me.” 

“Do you mean members of a biker gang?” asked Mr. Wadsmith, the shock of how the interview was proceeding becoming more apparent.

“Well, sir, they are like a biker gang, but with Schwinn bicycles instead of Harley Davidsons.”

“And you didn’t have time to get plucked, I mean, cleaned up? Have you ever been on an interview before?” By now Mr. Wadsmith was leaning over his desk and was just short of screaming at the top of his lungs. Apparently the receptionist heard the racket as laughter erupted from the lobby.

Tom was very taken aback by Mr. Wadsmith’s tone but stated “I know that appearance is important. But I know punctuality is often just as important, sometimes more so.” By now Tom took a bold step by saying “And if you see me now at a low, imagine how I will be at my best!”

Mr. Wadsmith stood upright as if hit in the face and thought about what was said. “You have some gall to you sir! Can you start Monday?”

“But…”

“Ok Tuesday just as long as you clean up first. And no more than $60,000, plus benefits!” Mr. Wadsmith extended a hand.

“Ok! Thank you” replied Tom as he shook Mr. Wadsmith’s hand.

“You’re very welcome. My hyena of a receptionist Yvonne will forward on the necessary paperwork” said Mr. Wadsmith as he led Tom to the lobby.

“I heard that” touted Yvonne the receptionist.

“She often does” mumbled Mr. Wadsmith as his eyes rolled.

Tom walked out through the lobby and nodded at Yvonne.

“See you later bird boy” poked Yvonne.

“See you, hyena…” retorted Tom. Once outside, he let out a cathartic cheer once he fully realized what just happened.  People passing by Tom tried walking as far around as possible, unsure of what to make of Tom.

“By the way, cancel all other interviews, the position has been filled!” yelled Mr. Wadsmith.       

This was the best news Tom had so far today. Whether the bikers knew he had an interview or not was beyond him. Why he was attacked, though, Tom had reasons to suspect what their motives were. The bikers were acquaintances of his ex-girlfriend that just left him earlier in the week. He and Ivory were in a whirlwind of a relationship that lasted for over 2 years. She had always been interested in bikes, both the bicycle and motor type. In addition, she worked as a social worker for a brief time before taking a job in a human resources department at a local company. In that time, she had befriended or worked with people of an often shady nature, much to his dismay.

One morning they had a huge fight regarding finances since he was still looking for a job at the time. It resulted in her storming out to take a bike ride, leaving him steaming. After a few minutes of grumbling, Tom decided to go running to blow off steam. It was a beautiful April day and Tom decided to run through the park. Some parts of the park were especially hilly with large rocks that one could climb with ease. He decided to run up one to take a breather.

Once he got to the top of a particularly large rock, Tom’s eyes bulged when he saw by a bike path below. There Ivory stood surrounded by and talking to 3 very rough looking bikers on their bicycles. Unsure if these guys meant to hurt her, Tom shouted “I’ll save you, Ivory” before jumping off the rock to jump on the nearest biker. With a thud, he completely missed since the biker in question reacted to him coming. It took several minutes for Ivory to stop the bikers from completely beating the crap out of him and call 911.

On the way to the emergency room, Ivory spat “What were you thinking?”

As Tom held a bag of ice on his head with one hand and gauze bandages to his face with the other hand, Tom tried to explain that he thought she was in trouble.

            “Do you realize that one of those guys was a former client and wouldn’t hurt a fly?” Her face became a shade of red.

“I didn’t know that” said Tom, his bleeding nose making his voice sound almost like a Muppet.

“Look, I think we need to call things off. I don’t think this is going to work…” said Ivory. Once the ambulance reached the hospital, she wished him luck, told him that she would stay at a friend’s place just for the night and took off. After x rays and other tests, Tom was released with a bandaged nose and a prescription for pain killers. The summer night greeted him with a rain storm that Noah could have seen leading up to the flood. Dejectedly, Tom walked out of MGH to the subway station wishing that the rain would wash away how the day went.

Once on the train, Tom sat across a poster for Pomegranate Juice. The poster suggested that since the fruit had been harvested for many years, those who drank the juice could be around for a long time too. For some reason he thought that there was a certain absurdity to the poster and its claims.

A few seats down, a Pomegranate fruit farmer, a meager 237 years young, was visiting the big city for a few days. “You know, pomegranate juice is good for the body” said the farmer in a confident voice, nodding to the poster. “But so is a little hard work, good wine and two packs of smokes a day.” Tom gave a short laugh. The farmer looked over to where Tom was sitting and regarded him with a bit of fatherly concern. “Women troubles, huh?”

“You could say that…” replied Tom, glancing over with an eyebrow raised.

“Listen, if you don’t mind an old man saying that sometimes things don’t work out. But when you find the right one, you’ll know.” He looked out the window and smiled. “She may even be wearing bells and whistles” advised the old man with a certain gentleness to his voices.

Tom cracked a small smile and thanked the old man. Right then the train pulled into the station and the doors opened. A young woman walked in, visibly upset, with bells and whistles stapled to her dress. The farmer and Tom looked on with a bit of surprise. The farmer pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to Tom. After a brief pause, Tom thanked him as he realized what to do.

He stood up and crossed the car to where the woman with bells and whistles was sitting. “Had a rough night too?” Tom asked, handing over the handkerchief and trying to smile.

“Horrible!” sobbed the woman, taking the handkerchief and wiping her eye. “People can be so cruel….”

“I know how you feel” Tom said as he rubbed the edge of his bandage. “Do you mind if I join you?”

“Oh I don’t know…” she said.

“I won’t bite… unless you asked” Tom quipped.

She smiled and stated, “I’m Stephanie, please”.

Stephanie explained that she was getting ready at a friend’s apartment before a couple of guys were to meet them there. She was ready early and asked to be woken up after a very brief nap. When she did, her clothes were covered with bells and whistles and the two men were standing there staring. Horribly embarrassed, she quickly grabbed her things and ran out before she could figure out why her friend would do such a spiteful act. Tom listened and comforted her as much as possible. He relayed his story about how he was dumped after an act of chivalry gone wrong. At the Harvard stop, they got off and joked about how there had to be someone for such hopeless romantics.

After an awkward pause, Tom asked “Say, can I call you or email you sometime?”

“Sure” said Stephanie as she pulled a pen and paper out of her purse.

Tom pulled out a piece of paper so he could write his information down as well. After the exchange of information, they wished each other a good night and parted ways, each with a smile. Tom left the subway station with the idea that maybe while one door was closing, another was about to open. He thought about this as he watched from over his shoulder as Stephanie walked away jingling.

The blairing horn and cursing from the cab driver snapped him out of the fog he was in. This also reminded Tom that he still needed to get his pain killers. Fortunately a pharmacy was close by and was still open. He got his medicine and called it a night.

A few days later, after trying to reconcile with Ivory with little success, Tom debated whether to call Stephanie. He looked though the jeans that would have had the piece of paper that had Stephanie’s information on it. No luck. He went though his wallet to see if he could find it. A lot of receipts, but still no luck. A thought dawned on Tom to look in the medicine cabinet of his apartment. The sneaking suspicion that Stephanie’s number was on the prescription he handed over to the pharmacist crept over him.

Tom bolted out of his apartment like a man with his pants on fire. Within twenty minutes, Tom got out of a cab, whose driver was cursing and blairing his horn at a random pedestrian. He ran into back of the pharmacy where he picked up his prescription and skipped over a long line forming at the counter.

“Excuse me,” said Tom as he tried to get the attention of the pharmacist and pharmacy technicians. At first, no one on the pharmacy side of the counter paid him any mind. “Excuse me,” he said a little louder.

“Sir you’ll have to wait at the back of the line” stated the pharmacy technician at the registrar, looking very annoyed. By then a few people in line were staring at him as he had just hit someone. Tom took a deep breath but walked to the end of the line.

After several minutes, he finally got to the front of the line. “How can I help you?” asked the pharmacy technician with a friendly but condescending tone.

“Hi, my name is Tom Happenstance. I dropped off a prescription here a few days ago and was wondering if you still had the order?”

“Did you have a question about your prescription?” asked the pharmacy technician.

“Actually, I wrote down something on the back of the slip of paper and was hoping that you still had it?”

The pharmacy technician looked at him for a brief moment as if Tom had gone a little crazy but managed to maintain a smile. “Hold on, let me check.” After a moment of the pharmacy technician checking underneath the counter and checking with the others, he let Tom know that all slips were shredded recently. Tom eventually walked away dejectedly, thinking that he missed out on a great opportunity.

On the other side of town, Stephanie was also on her way to a local dry cleaner. She, like Tom, had realized that she put his information on the back of a receipt too and that she no longer had the receipt. The only logical place she could think of was a dry cleaner that she visited earlier. She left a few things there and was planning to have her little black dress that had been belled and whistled to be de-belled and de-whistled when she picked up her other clothes. When Stephanie reached the cleaners in question, a small crowd and several fire trucks were in front of the burnt out remains of the place. Stephanie eventually walked away dejectedly, thinking that she missed out on a great opportunity, carrying her ruined dress with her.

The Monday following the interview and some time after the faithful night at the emergency room/train ride home, Tom was stopping by an apartment that was for rent. He had arrived early and was waiting outside until the previous appointment was done. The landlord and Stephanie walked out the front door.

Tom’s eyes lightened up. “Stephanie?” he asked.

“Yeah Tom?” replied Stephanie.

“Yeah how have you been?”
”Good, and you?”

“Good” replied Tom.

“Do you two know each other?” interjected Mr. Peterson, the landlord.

“We’ve met” replied Stephanie.

“Great! Well Tom not to cut this short but, are you ready to see the apartment?” asked Mr. Peterson.

“Sure,” said Tom with a bit of hesitation in his voice. “Before I do, Stephanie, are you free later?”

“Yeah I am. Do you still have my number?”

“Sorry I misplaced it. Do you still have mine?”

Stephanie shook her head with a slight guilty look on her face. They exchanged numbers again, this time entering each other’s numbers into their respective cell phones. That night Tom and Stephanie decided to meet at a place called the Delicious Dish, a place that according to local reviews, served such bad food that the plates that it was served on was probably more edible. 

            After ordering the two sat in a brief awkward silence. Each wanted to say something but not sure what was a good topic to discuss.

            “So…” said Tom.

            “So…” said Stephanie.

            “Looking for an apartment?” said Tom.

            “Yeah. Same with you I guess, huh?”

             “Yeah. One thing I noticed is that with a lot of things you can get, like a car or what have you, you can try them before you buy them. Or at least have trial a period before getting your money back. But not with apartments or homes. I always wondered why that was?” stated Tom, hoping that he didn’t just make an ass of himself.

            Stephanie thought about this for a second. “You know you’re right! Say, are you looking for a roommate?”

            Tom was taken aback by this question for a second. “I could use one. Let me guess you need one too, huh?”

            “Of course, silly! How about this, why don’t we make a plan to only look at apartments that will allow us to try something out, like the kitchen or allow us to stay the night!” said Stephanie, while raising her eyebrows at the possibility of spending the night together.

            Tom slightly blushed at this last part and replied “Sure.” For the rest of dinner the two discussed ideas for apartment hunting and which places to try what. They also spoke on things like music and other interests while they tried gagging down the Not-So-Delicious Dish’s culinary offerings. The next day the two met at Stephanie’s place to go over listings for places. The first three places they tried asking for some sort of trial, the people either came up with some sort of excuse, like the plumbing or gas is not ready or  a flat out no. Tom chimed in “Say, isn’t there a place down the street?”

“I think so…” replied Stephanie. “Are you thinking of the place with the pink flamingos, right?”

“Yeah…You want to take a walk to see what the story is?” asked Tom.

“Sure” said Stephanie. The fourth place that Tom and Stephanie considered had

pink flamingos by the score on the small front lawn with accompanying Gnomes and Christmas lights that hung all year long. A ‘For Rent’ sign hung by the front door and was accompanied by a ‘No Soliciting’ sign underneath it. The two walked to the front door, rang the bell, and waited. A muffled voice seemed to come from within the house that sounded like it was cursing and coughing. After a few minutes, the front door opened with a pair of thick glasses peering out. “Can I help you?” a very nasal voice greeted Tom and Stephanie.

            “We saw your sign for rent sign and was hoping to talk to you about the apartment…” said Tom hopefully.  

            “You’re not Communists are you?” asked the pair of eyeglasses.

            A bit taken back, Tom replied “No.”

            “How about Jehovah witnesses or Amway members? Either of you one of them?” 

            Tom and Stephanie shook their heads and confirmed that they had no connection with the Jehovah witnesses or were Amway members.

            “Good, last thing this house needs are Communists or weirdoes roaming around!” The door opened and a very short and stout woman wearing a loud floral dress and hair curlers stood there. “Come in” said the woman. “I’m Ms. Ronstein. The room is upstairs.”

            The two followed Ms. Ronstein to the room and explained about rent and what that included. When asked about giving the room a ‘test run’, Ms. Ronstein started laughing so profusely that she doubled over. Tom and Stephanie turned and walked out, both with a shade of bright red on their faces.

            As the two walked to the curb, Tom said over the cackling laughter “What about Mr. Peterson’s place?”

            “What about it?” said Stephanie.

            “I know that I still need to call him about it.”
            “That’s right! I still need to let him know too.”

            He dialed Mr. Peterson’s number. After a couple of rings, Mr. Peterson came on the phone with a gruff “Hello”.

            “Hello, Mr. Peterson, this is Tom Happenstance, I saw your place a week or so ago.”

            “Yes? Are you still interested in the place?” said Mr. Peterson.

            “Actually both myself and Stephanie are both interested and want to rent it together.”

            “I guess that’s fine” said Mr. Peterson.

            “The only thing is that we want to stay at the apartment for the night first, if that’s ok. To try it out?” said Tom.

            After a pause, Mr. Peterson answered “I normally don’t do this but I guess we can do that. But the two of you are responsible for anything that happens to the place.”

            “Certainly. Thank you” said. Tom got off the phone and smiled.

            “Well?” said Stephanie.

            “We’re in!” said Tom.

            That night the Tom and Stephanie crashed in the bedroom of the apartment. Stephanie had brought a stereo and some CD’s that they could listen to. Tom decided to bring a microwave though the two ended up ordering some Chinese food from a local restaurant that was not the Delicious Dish.

After finishing the appetizer, Tom had remember something and pulled up his bag. “I almost forgot this” said Tom as he pulled out a scented candle.

“Aww” replied Stephanie. She took the candle and smelt it. “Did you remember a lighter?”

Tom looked in his bag. “I knew I forgot something” as he slapped his forehead.

“How about matches?” she asked.

            “Ditto” replied Tom. A little red was forming in his cheeks.

            “That’s ok” replied Stephanie. “Music?”

            “Sure” said Tom.

            Stephanie turned on the stereo and grabbed a random CD from her collection. The Electric Slide blaired from the radio. This time, Stephanie turned a shade of red. Tom let out a little laugh.

            “This CD is one that I used when I worked at a middle school. I played it at school dances when I chaperoned, I swear!” Stephanie exclaimed.

            “Sure…” Tom smiled.

She gave him a dirty look and then returned the smile. The CD was changed to something a little lighter.  The two finished dinner and joked that the food was actually edible unlike what was served at the Delicious Dish. For a short while Tom and Stephanie listen to music and joked about school dances they had been to. This was followed by interesting concerts each had been and so on.

After a while, Tom and Stephanie decided to call it a night. Although they lay in separate sleeping bags, the two cuddled together for warmth and companionship. Tom couldn’t help but feel that things were starting to take shape and everything, somehow, was going to work out.

            A couple of weeks after moving in with Stephanie, they decided that they were formally a couple. He starting his job at Global Funds Brokerage and found that though it was demanding, he was good at it. One night after work, Tom was watching the 10 o’clock news with a beer in hand. A story came on regarding an orgy that was busted up by the cops a few miles away. In addition to the gratuitous sex scene, the cops found a cache of drugs worth nearly $6,000. Tom could not help but bust out laughing when the picture of Ivory and two of the bikers that attacked him flashed on the screen, showing as three of the participants that were arrested in connection with the whole fiasco. After all, some people get it in the end, while for others things work out in the end.

Dresdin Files Update

I recently checked the Jim Butcher website and am dismayed to report that the release date for “Ghost Stories” has been moved to July 26, 2011 (ok so I’m behind, lol). Jim Butcher is reported to make sure that the new novel is the best it can be and not something ad hoc. My response to this is 2 fold: 1) As a fan, knowing that efforts to make certain that the new book is something of quality is respectable and 2) I think this is an excellent tactic to heighten the buzz for the new book in anticipation of it’s release. I could make a quip about Jim hedging his bets for the rapture that did not happen but probably be futile at best.

On a related note, for Dresden Files fans that need a fix and are fellow gamers, you can always try the Dresden Files RPG. Available from Evil Hat Productions, the system is based on a version of the Fate RPG system. A couple things of note are that the system is not heavy on number crunching but more focused on story telling, allowing players to get more into the game without needing a calculator. Highly recommended!

To check out more about The Dresden Files series of books, check out http://www.jim-butcher.com/books/dresden sometime!

Writing Exercise idea

If you are like me, sometimes you may want to stretch your creative legs. One idea I have given thought to, and I am sure used a hundred times by writers all over, is using a fortune cookie as basis for a scene, flash fiction piece or short story.

Next time you order Chinese food or any cuisine where fortune cookies are served as part of your meal, save the fortune inside. When you sit down to do some writing, have your fortune ready. Write down any ideas that might come forth, even if the idea doesn't seem very good. Occationally, some fortunes have a translation of a word from English to Chinese or even lucky numbers. Let any ideas come from these as well.

To help, one of my fortunes happens to be "Happy event will take place shortly in your home". On the back, it has the translation for Cake with lucky numbers 39, 37, 4, 48, 41, 47. An idea that comes to mind is a child's 4th birthday in the year 1948 where 37 people showed up.  A birthday is a happy event (usually) that can happen at home involving cake. 4 and 48 and 37 are just examples of numbers being used.

Hope this helps and just remember to allow your imagination to run free.

We survived the rapture, now what?

So I know I've been bad about posting but thought I would throw a bone. Craziness with real life work, games and what not have eaten my time.

Fortunately the rapture has not happened for a few reasons. For one, I still have to finish my first novel. I still have over 10,500 words to hammer out for one. (I will conquer it yet, I swear.) Secondly, if, in the unlikelihood that I get caught up in the rapture I found that my handsome cat and trusty feline companion, Oliver, will not be joining. If going to heaven won’t include animals joining, I wonder if it is worth it. Thirdly, well I still have to achieve my goal of GMing a game sometime. And the goal of finding the love of my life. But that last bit is a rant for a different day.

One thing that I found to be a bit ironic about the day of the rapture, other than the whole affair didn’t happen and that it was postponed to October, was a fortune cookie I opened. My fortune was Hallelujah! My cookie was having a religious revelation before I even had a chance of nom nom noming him. Well it was tasty as fortune cookies go and amusing none the less.

I guess that I can take away from the rapture thing is a) recommit to goals b) recommit to this blog c) spend more time with Oliver and d) humor and wisdom often come from delicious places!

-Pertante

The Dresden Files

So I found about 2 or so years ago the equivilant of literary crack. I read one novel and was hooked from there. Enter the Dresden Files series.

For those of you not familiar with the series, it focuses on the exploits of Harry Dresden, a combination of wise cracking sleuth and battlehardened mage. Dresden bills himself as the only working wizard Dedective in the phone book. He has been battling vampires, trolls, fae, necormacers, werewolves and various other shade of the forces of darkness and all the while try to have a love life in and around Chicago for years all while not trying to get killed.

For those of you familiar with the series (*Spoiler*), Jim Butcher left the series at a huge cliff hanger in his novel, Changes, where Harry, after saving his daugther from the Red Court while crushing the Red Court at the same time, gets shot. I theorized that Murphy, Harry's liason to the Chicago PD and good friend could have been the assasian. My theory, for those who are familiar with the series, was based on 1) how she was one of the few who knew where he was, 2) was damn good with a gun and knew a bullet at distance was a weakness to exploit 3) may have been victim to mind controlling magic yet again. Basically I would question the obvious because that everything isn't always what it appears in the books.

Reading the last short story in Side Jobs, Aftermath, recently apparently proved me wrong, or at least suggested that I was on the wrong track.

Granted, the crusade Harry led against the Red Court is a more likely reason for someone to try to gun for Harry. Revenge is often best served cold. Nother is colder than serving it with a bullet from 40 feet. Another possiblity is that if it wasn't someone involved with the Red Court, someone would have reason to fear the power Harry could throw.

Of course, we, the faithful addicts may have to wait for Ghost Story that comes out in April of this year.....