Sunday, October 26, 2008

Fifteen Minutes of Fame...

So Friday morning when I awoke, I opened up the computer and gently said, good morning. It informed me that I had 6 emails and I thought that was pretty good for a Friday. Two of them however were from a foreign country, probably China from the looks of it. The senders name was "sysob" spelled out in English, so I thought it might be someone from a dating service. I really know better than to open unknown emails, but my curiosity got the best of me and I did. In that email that was written in Chinese, there was one line that was in English, so I clicked on it and it took me to another Chinese page, so I deleted it and went on to the next one from China. I couldn't make heads or tails out of that one either so it got deleted and I didn't think about it until Saturday morning when I got a Mailer Daemon from somewhere that I didn't send an email to and it was in Russian. Next, there was an auto response from a woman in New York that is out of the office that I didn't write to either and all of the while, I've got an unusual amount of spam accumulating.

I'm starting to think it was a mistake to open those Chinese emails, ya think? I got busy doing something and didn't really check anything until Saturday night and by then I had literally hundreds of spam mail piling up, so I looked at it and found that they were all mailer daemons from all over the world in many different languages. I ran a security scan and discovered there was nothing wrong. Somehow someone stole my ISP number and is abusing it across the world. After speaking with a friend and telling him what had happened, he asked if they got to my online banking? A cold chill ran down my spine as I checked and everything was safe. My question is, why don't they spell "mailer daemon" correctly?


Saturday, October 25, 2008

She was GREASY.....

I had a lunch date on Thursday that didn't go too well. What a surprise? Here's how it unfolded and why it wound up like it did. For a long time I had seen this woman's picture online, but in it she was wearing sunglasses and frankly that's the same as not having a picture posted. One evening last week, I was cruising the website looking for someone of interest, when I spotted a pretty face. When I stopped and examined her photos, I discovered that this is the lady with the sunglasses and she finally took them off. The photo with the glasses was there as well. It said in her profile that she was 5' 2" and of the Jewish faith. Why I'm attracted to the Jewish faith is beyond me as time after time, I just disappointed, in spite of the fact that I was raised Jewish?

In her profile she mentions that she works for a published author and is also a substitute teacher. She seemed pretty clever in her profile, so all things being equal, I decided to shoot her off an email. Eventually she responded and we were off and running, only she wasn't running. It was more of a quick walk. I'd respond to her email and she'd wait a day or so to answer me back. When we finally spoke on the phone, I found her less than interesting and I bordered on not calling her back a second time.
Here was the low down on Sybil, that was her name. No wonder Julie thought she might be crazy! Sybil went to the library to respond to my emails. Not only did she lose the job working for the author, but she seldom worked at subbing either. Basically she was unemployed and needing. She was supposed to be 50, but I did some research on her and found her on other dating sites and she was also 51 and 52. Is that possible??? So I knew her age wasn't accurate, like so many people on the sites, myself included. On 3 different occasions I deleted her number from my cell phone and 3 times I saved it back. Finally, on Wednesday night I returned her call from 2 days prior and decided to give her one more chance. When we were summing up, she told me she was free all day usually and it would be nice if we had lunch some time. I said, great that's a plan. I'll call you in the late morning after some of my wrinkles have a chance to hang out and we'll arrange a place to meet.

Here was another turn off. Sybil has a 12 year old son and she was never married and her ex-boyfriend doesn't pay child support. This whole thing is sounding more and more desperate. She's only been in AZ for 4 years and the reason that she moved here is because her elderly mother (meal ticket) moved here when her father passed away. Thank God she had someone, huh?

The eventful morning arrived, I knew it would and I had anything in my mind BUT meeting her for lunch. Three different times I picked up the phone to cancel and 3 times I didn't thinking, I'll give her a chance. I dressed for my lunch date. I wore tan colored slacks with a floral Hawaiian shirt and dress shoes. By the way, before leaving the house, I went to a website that lists peoples names, addresses and phone numbers and it often gives their ages too and Sybil was 56.

I arrived about 5 minutes early, my typical MO and waited out in front enjoying the 80 degree temperature in the sun. After about 10 minutes, a rather short, unkempt woman approached me and greeted me. I was pretty disappointed with this 4' 10" little person wearing week old jeans and a raggedy T-shirt, toting a hooded sweatshirt. I couldn't help but notice that when she stepped off the curb, she bumped her ass!

We entered the restaurant and were seated. She took off her sun glasses and revealed wrinkles around her eyes that accommodate make up left over from the late 1950's. To say that Sybil didn't dress for success was an understatement. She looked greasy, like someone that hadn't had a shower that day and her hair was in a ponytail, but it was falling apart. Her hair was also greasy and had about 3 inches of gray coming out around the roots. She looked homeless! I'm not picking on the homeless either. If it weren't for her "better than she is" attitude, I wouldn't even have mentioned it. You know, I'll be a son of a gun, but I forgot to tell you about her big pot belly. I'm sure it was just baby fat, her boy is only 12.

When the check came, she made no mention of it as I quickly picked it up and paid it. I walked her to her vehicle and again I was shocked. Mom sprung for a new Nissan van!
You know, I really didn't need to be thanked for lunch......... so she didn't!

The Dating Guy (still looking)

Friday, October 24, 2008

The Story of Barbara Boobie and How She Got Her Name

(Barbara Boobie)
The year was 2002 and I had just split up with my wife and thought, why not join an online dating service to fill in some of the lonely hours. I posted a picture and fill out a profile and waited. Although I was still pretty much in shock over the sudden disappearance of my wife without a warning, I thought it might be a good idea to get out a little. I literally hated the idea of starting out all over again. One day I received a not from a woman named Barb and I'll be a son of a gun if she didn't live about 2 blocks from me. We chatted on the phone for a while and made a date to meet on Saturday night for a drink, someplace close to the house. I'd not gone on a date in years and was kind of looking forward to Saturday. It turned out that Barb was also from Chicago and we seemed to have a few things in common. Saturday afternoon I received a phone call from Barb and she said, is this Mike? I said, no you have the wrong number and was about to hang up when she asked what my name was. Confused, I volunteered the information that my name was Mel. She said good, that's who I was calling. She said, this is Barbara and I need to cancel our date for tonight, as my date from last night is still here... Gagging, only one short word came to mind and it was ewww..........! I didn't say it though, all I said was okay and hung up. Maybe dating wasn't such a good idea after all.

Eventually, Barb called me again and wanted to get together. It seemed a shame since she lived so close that she was so sleazy. I agreed to meet her at the park between our houses for a glass of wine. The dog park is only 4 houses down from me and so convenient after hours. As I sat there on a picnic bench, I saw a silhouette approaching wearing tight white slacks and a looooow cut top. When a woman dresses that provocatively in the 'hood, it usually because of a recent boob job and such was the case with Barbara Boobie. We sipped wine and chatted and laughed about how her recent date thought he was going to move in. While she was laughing I was making some important decisions on BB and what I decided was, you can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear, if you catch my drift? At some point during our brief evening, I pointed to her overly available bosom and asked, "are those new?" With a smile and an enthusiasm she exclaimed yes, do you want to see them? Again, without warning, she lifted her top and exposed her more than ample bosom saying, "Go ahead and feel them, they feel real"!

I think we went back to my house, I was only 4 door away from home and she met the Dynamic Duo and we made plans for getting together again some time soon. I think the next time I saw her was to go to a dog show and it was pretty uneventful and then she just faded away.. Bye bye, Barbie.

About a year later I got an email from her saying that she and her girlfriend were walking past my house and saw me out there working in my yard, but was too shy to stop and say hello. Thinking about it for awhile, I decided to have some fun with BB and replied that my name is Melinda and I'm a 27 year old housewife in Oklahoma where I live with my husband Bret and my 4 year old boy, Scottie and I've only just gotten this email address a month ago. Well BB gets sucked in really deep and explains all of our business to this OK housewife, telling her how we met and she kind of liked me but I didn't follow up with her. I just couldn't do it anymore and told her the truth and we once again started to communicate with her. We're emailing back and forth and speaking on the phone when suddenly she mentions that she's been seeing the same guy for about 3 years. So when she's with me, she's cheating on him! I cool off like a burning piece of charcoal tossed into a bucket of water. Barbara Boobie disappears again, which is a good thing. The following year, she contacts me again, this time to tell me that she's lost a bunch of weight on the Atkins Diet. I meet her for a drink and sure enough she looked pretty good, but she was still seeing that guy.

By now it was probably late in 2005 and she contacts be again. I had just recovered from heart surgery and had lost about 30 LB and I mean quickly. I knew I didn't look too good and Barbara Boobie made it pretty apparent that she was not only turned off , but as dumb as she is, she acted like she could catch it! On this visit she asked if she could move in with me and bring her cat. Well the Dynamic Duo have never really seen a cat, close up anyway and I don't think introducing a new friend to them would be such a good idea at this point. What I neglected to tell you was that BB had married that guy that she dated for so long and it lasted a whopping 6 weeks before he threw her recently slimmed down ass out, but not before getting her money from the sale of her old house. Also, could I refer her to anyone that could use her for an employee, as she's also lost her job.

Frankly, I felt really sorry for her and told her she could move in, but sans the cat and I was trying to call friends that might employ her, but she flaked out on me and didn't follow up with phone calls and generally caused me to apologize to a lot of people. BB disappeared off the face of the Earth once again. I heard from her about 6 months late and she wanted something and this was my reply.

Dear BB:

You seem to contact me every year or so, whenever you need something. Like the friend that I thought I was, I always tried to help you, in one way or another and you constantly let me down. If it's okay with you, I'd prefer to switch to a different schedule, where you contact me every 20 years. I hope you understand.



Barbara Boobie contacted me again today and either never received my email or doesn't want to remember it, because she wants me to help her get her son a car. I replied that I'd be happy to help her in about 18 1/2 years!


Zoie is Mrs. Bogie Fisher...

It was an overcast October day in 1999 and Debra had the morning off from work. We found an ad in the paper for a female Mantle Dane and called the Cave Creek, AZ. number. A pleasant woman answered and I asked questions about what dogs she had for sale. She was a breeder from Mexico, here for a dog show in Tempe. She bred Great Danes and standard Poodles and she had 5 Danes with her on this trip that didn't quite meet her qualifications as show quality. Well, we had no interest in show quality, we were looking for a girl for our boy.

We took the trek to Cave Creek and arrived at a ranch setting. Around back was a horse set up that was temporarily occupied by a plethora of show dogs and a handful of pups for sale, although they were nearly full grown. Zoie was a full 7 months old when we acquired her. They kept referring to Zoie and her sister as twins. To this day I don't know if they were really twins or just litter mates. Zoie, although she'd had her ears cropped in some sort of new style, was almost a head shorter than her twin sister and they were both for sale. I liked Zoie because she'd had her ear done already and her sister because of her size. Then we noticed that Zoie had a mange problem and I had no idea what that involved. I used my cell phone to call the vet and inquire, but once again she wasn't available and never returned my call. We went home as it was quickly becoming time for Debra to leave for work.

I don't recall what I did that day, but worrying about getting a dog wasn't on my list. About 4 PM Debra called and we chatted for awhile, when she asked if I'd gotten her. Who, I replied? That Great Dane pup with the cropped ears, said Debra. Is that the one that you want? She said she thought I knew that. I guess she thought I could read minds. I called the lady out in Cave creek and asked her to consider an offer on the pup with the cropped ears. She accepted my offer saying that she knew that Zoie was going to require some medical attention and that she felt we would give it to her. Boy, was she ever right! I had no idea was was entailed with Mange. The first month we had her, we paid about $1200 in vet bills for dippings 3 times a week. That went on for months, but I'm wandering again.

I loaded little Peewee's crate into the Expedition and drove back out to Cave Creek, AZ. We gathered Zoie and somehow got her to get into that little crate. After paying the lady, we were headed home to introduce Bogie and Zoie to one another and I must tell you, I was worried that he might not like her. Bogie, being the Alpha type had developed a "dog aggression" and once he decides another dog is his enemy, well....

When I got home, I put Bogie outside and let Zoie loose in the house and that's how I found out she had never been indoors before. She had never seen a glass table before and walked right into it, then hopped up on top of it. Holy shit, I had to start from step one. I put Zoie inside of Bogie's big crate and let Bogie inside to sniff around. So far, so good. She smelled good to him and he was so excited to have a playmate that he stayed right by her side. When Debra got home, we put collars and leashes on each of them and at armed length, let them get to know each other in the backyard. Bogie was enamoured. He fell immediately in love with her and has stayed that way ever since. At this point, Zoie and Bogie have been together almost twice as long as Debra and I. I know she loves him because even though they have their own beds, sometimes late at night Bogie comes over and snuggles in with Zoie in her bed and she gets up and sleeps on the couch!


Wednesday, October 22, 2008

A Gift from Above...

In 1996 I married a woman that had never been married before. She was quite a bit younger than me and had no children and really hadn't even been in a long term relationship prior to meeting me. This woman was as close to a virgin that I was going to find. Her first request of me was to get my vasectomy reversed, so we could have a child. Her biological time clock was working overtime. I believe she was 40 years old when our nuptials were performed and I had had my surgery about 10 years prior. Dutifully I made an appointment with Dr. Cedric to discuss my reversal. Dr. Cedric was a short man, about 5'4" and not a hair on his head and at the time he was about 50 years old, about my age. With his Tennessee accent, he put his hand on my shoulder and said, "Mel, you've got your family and they're grown now. Your vasectomy is over 10 years old and the possibility of the reversal being successful is rather remote. It'll be painful and expensive and insurance won't cover it. Tell that to your new wife and ask her if a puppy will do the job." We both laughed, shook hands and I left considerably relieved.

When I got home, I gave the bad (good) news to Debra and told her about the puppy that Dr. Cedric suggested. Her reaction was, "Can we"? We spent the next 3 weeks combing through rescues at our local pounds. Every pup that needed obvious medical attention caught Debra's eye. At some point I agreed to anything, just to end the selection process. That's when an employee came off break and suggested a pup that was rather shy, that was sitting way back in the back of her cage and we didn't even know the cage was occupied. It was a little Yorkie/Schnauzer combination was was puking up yellow bile. Debra looked up at me and asked if she could be the one. I immediately agreed to this 8 LB, 2 year old dog that was going to require a lot of care to socialize. She was cute though. We took Peewee home with us and she threw up everywhere a little 8 LB dog could, but mostly on Debra's lap.

Little Peewee seemed to fit in nicely and I think about a year and a half went by before Peewee was even housebroken, but was quite the socialite at our local dog park. One spring day, I was riding around on my golf cart. A friend of mine's grandmother passed away and he inherited a golf cart that he sold to me for $500. It was before George W. Bush was president and money flowed more easily. The good old days, but I digress. So one spring day, Peewee and I were cruising the neighborhood on our golf cart when I spotted a yard that had 2 beautiful Great Danes in the front yard, along with the owner of the home, a rather little woman named Merriam. I stopped and made a u-turn and spoke with the woman telling her how much I admired her dogs and how I used to have 2 Great Danes when my kids were young, a long time ago. We chatted for awhile and I asked her if I could go home and get my wife, to show her dogs to her. She said yes, her dogs were her favorite topic and I was more than welcome to do that.

When I got home, I was as excited as a school boy. I exchanged Peewee for Debra and found out rather quickly that Peewee had relieved herself on the golf cart seat. I guess the Danes scared her. When we got back to Merriam's house, she invited us in and we enjoyed a glass of iced tea while Debra got used to having dogs the size of calves on a sofa next to her. At first I could see she was a little intimidated, but slowly got more comfortable with these gentle giants. I think we stayed about an hour and when we drove home in our little gold cart surrey, we discussed the possibility of getting a Great Dane of our own. Debra was all for it!

The following day was a Sunday and we had already hit the papers looking for Great Dane pups. I knew just what I wanted. I wanted a harlequin male and I wanted it to be a puppy. The only number that I saw was that of a Dane rescue. We were sitting in a pizza place in Paradise Valley Mall, calling with my cell phone. I spoke with a woman named Kate. She had been in rescue for about 2 years and lived far on the West side of town. We spoke for a time and I told her what I had been looking for. She stopped me dead in my tracks and said, "look, this is a rescue. We get the old and the sick and the unwanted. We NEVER get puppies. In all of the time I've been doing this, we've gotten 2 puppies and they were gone immediately. If you're looking for a harle pup, try looking in the Tucson papers, for some reason there are a lot of harles in Tucson. She took down my phone number, saying that if she heard of anything she'd call, but I never expected to hear from her again. I explained our conversation to Debra and then our pizza came. I'd say we were about half way through the pizza when my cell phone rang and it was Kate. She asked if we were sitting down and I said yes. She then said, you're not going to believe this, but I just got a call from a woman that has a little of GD pups and she doesn't know what to do with them and one of them is a male Harlequin about 12 weeks old!

Taking down her address, she made me promise to give her an hour to go and pick them up. I looked up to the sky as I said I'd be happy to give her an hour, and thanked God for my boy. Debra saw the tear forming in my eye and asked what Kate wanted. I told her, no longer interested in my pizza, we paid the check and left.

We arrived at 87th Ave and Thomas about an hour later and rang the bell. We were greeting by an entourage of wagging tails and barking. There must have been 6 big Danes in that house running loose. We were both apprehensive about going in when Kate yelled, it's okay, just come on in. There in the corner were 3 pups all huddled together and scared to death just shaking. One was about 1/3 larger than his brother and sister. He almost looked like he came from a different litter. He was well fed, healthy and huge! That would be Bogie! Bogie was a gift from God and I knew it immediately. Debra asked if we should go home and think about it and I said sure, but Bogie's coming with us. There was nothing to discuss. We brought Bogie home and he immediately bonded with Peewee and she accepted him as a mother would a pup. Peewee never quite understood the growing thing though.

When we'd go to the park, Peewee would protect her baby from all of the other big dogs that wanted to check out the new kid, chasing these big boys away snapping at their heels. At some point Bogie needed a wife and that's how we got Zoie, but I'll leave that for another time..


Tuesday, October 21, 2008

I've Got a Story for Ya!

Born into a family of 5, the middle son of 3 brothers, we somehow managed to hate each other from the beginning and it lasted a lifetime. Laurance, my older brother arrived first in June of 1943, me showing up in March of 1946 and the youngest brother popping out in August of 1950. Laurance, aka Larry, was 2 years and 9 months my senior and the only significance that held for me was his identification. I learned by working our family mailbox just right, I could become almost 3 years older by just being there to receive the ID's. Suddenly I was Laurance J. Fisher, age 21, able to drink and enjoy all of the privileges of a person of majority. I didn't want to vote necessarily, but I did walk into the bars of Chicago quite freely and enjoyed their hospitality at the immature age of 18. I went directly from high school to adult in about 10 seconds. I didn't have his driver's license, but did manage to cop his draft cards and voter's registration cards. To this day he never knew why he was declared a Democrat without entering a voting booth. He and I helped vote in JFK and I don't know of another person that was my age that can claim that.

I moved out of my parent's home at a young age and moved into an apartment with a Chicago cop for a roommate. He got me a fake police star and between my fake IDs and my badge to flash, the city was mine to experiment with and I assure you I took advantage of it to the fullest. We'd walk straight into busy bars without waiting in lines and owners of these establishments couldn't give us enough free things, just to have police presence in their restaurants and bars. Everyday was Christmas until one day at a whore house in Indianapolis, a pimp broke into our car and stole our guns and wallets. That was probably the best thing that ever happened to me. It probably saved my life. I was no longer a cop and had to live out my boring life without the perks that came along with being "on the job". My roommate was soon killed in a shootout and I went ahead and got married and settled down making a family. Writing this portion of my life has made me recall several yarns from my wild past that I'll spin at another time.


Monday, October 20, 2008

They Walk Amongst us!

I spent a little time today with a headache laden Jules. On her to do list was to get her oil changed and I recently discovered that the last time she went to do this tedious task, the rip off artist that worked at Midas Muffler sold her no less than $400 worth of ridiculous things to keep her on the road for the next 3000 miles. Not knowing better and foolishly trusting the salesman, she bit and wrote the check for what should have cost about 20 to 30 bucks. I used to change her oil for free, but that was another time in our lives, when crawling under a truck was easier.

After taking her to a horrible lunch at What-a-Burger, I grabbed my $2 Diet Coke and took it with us. Why is What-a-Burger so proud of Mustard? As we were driving her truck down the road, Julie pointed out the Midas Muffler that surgically removed her wealth and told me to turn in. Ignoring her, as I knew I certainly would have a melt-down if I was to get close to that whore house and the tramps that worked there. Can you believe they tried to sell her a water pump, since she didn't know how old hers was? Just across the street from Midas was Jiffy Lube and although they can remove your savings account quite methodically, I was there to police them. We pulled in and were immediately approached by one of the 6 employees that were standing around doing nothing. Julie even commented on the fact that their break was over because of us. A young man that was unkempt to be polite spoke to us without making any sort of eye contact and was evidently reciting from a script. "Hello and welcome to Jiffy Lube, blah, blah, blah..." I stopped him and told him we were there for an oil change, nothing else. Frustrated, he looked down and said to initial the waiving of the air filter box. We did. We went inside to wait and after about 2 minutes, our crew-cutted technician called us back out to the oil rack. Let the selling begin! Her truck has 103K miles on it and it should have had it's fuel filter changed every 30,000 miles, how many times have we changed it? I told him 4, the last time we were here we changed it twice just to be on the safe side. Again I repeated, we are here for an oil change only. That's when he took out his chart and priced out the oil with the best oil being synthetic and costing around $70. I laughed and pointed to the cheap old oil for a mind altering $43. Yikes, Jiffy Lube has come a long, long way! We went back to wait for about 5 minutes and laughed our asses off at the sales approach. They called us and our new cashier was a guy that was about 20 minutes past puberty that resembled the Incredible Hulk. This greasy faced kid was enormous wearing shorts below his knees that were hanging way to low on his hips. With each step I worried about a falling of the pants. He took Julie's credit card and rang up the profitable purchase when suddenly I recognized one of the tattoos that was engraved on his upper inner arm, because it was in Hebrew. I stopped him and asked him what the Hebrew symbols meant and if he even knew. This kid was the image of "redneck" and there was no way I figured him for a Jewish boy. He lifted his other arm and flexed them and recited, "The Lord is my Rock". A chill ran down my spine. Although tattoos are against the Jewish religion, this new generation of Jew not only wears tattoos, but flaunts it! I don't think that either the kid or the Lovely Jules noticed the tear in my eye..


Friday, October 17, 2008

A Realization...

An experience that took place yesterday morning made me realize that we give our animals too much credit for being intelligent. What we consider to be inherently understood is only for humans and dogs and other animals might not be privy to these exact things. Here is how it played out and I'll describe my observation.

Zoie is a 120 LB Great Dane and not the smartest dog I've ever known. Although she is endearing, she has probably caused me more physical damage of any dog I've ever had. Yesterday morning I was trying to get a little extra sleep after being up pretty late with Bogie, my male Great Dane that has been pretty ill of late. Zoie wanted me to get up and out of bed and to convince me she whines and lays her wet mouth on my hand. I intentionally keep my eyes closed to simulate sleep and out of no where, she jumped up on top of me scratching the hell out of my arm, both upper and lower and causing me to bleed pretty heavily. She jumped up on my body that was hidden under the covers and that's when it occurred to me, that as far as Zoie's concerned, sometimes I have a head and full body and sometimes I have just a head, when my body is covered by the blanket. We take it for granted that my body would be under the covers, but does a dog think the same way? How much credit should we give these furry four legged friends? Food for thought.


Monday, October 13, 2008

Practicing What I Preach...

Over the past few weeks, I've visited what used to be my car lot a few times a week for various reasons. On one occasion Paul, my former landlord and mechanic was cleaning up a car that he bragged that he had sold to a young woman. He told me she wanted to buy it 2 nights ago, but he had a softball game and couldn't find the time to do the transaction. He told her to come back and in the meanwhile, he'd also check it out for her. I asked how much of a deposit he had gotten and he told me that he never thought to ask for one, but she'll be back for sure, she's already called several times to make sure he was getting it ready for her. Without sounding like a know-it-all, I tried to explain the difference between a real buyer and someone that is entertaining themselves at your expense. Paul seemed bored with my lecture and I soon left. I wound up at the lot again today, to pay Paul for some work he had done for me and there on what used to be my front line, was the car that Paul was certain was sold to the young lady.

Without showing the smug look that was trying to escape from my face, I asked what that car was still doing here. He told me that when he called her to tell her it was ready, she said it was a lot of money for that car and she's going to have to think about it. "STRIKE WHILE THE IRON IS HOT" came to mind and once again I reminded him of my lecture with a stiff, "I told you so"! Paul assured me that he would sell it for more to the next person.

Fast forward about 3 hours and my phone rings and it's the Lovely Jules asking me if I can help her tomorrow with a little line work in plastics. I tell her absolutely, as I haven't even seen her since our restaurant review. She told me to get up early, she would be expecting me about 9 AM and we hung up. About an hour later, my cell phone rings, a rarity, and it's a gentleman that is calling for a car for his father who by chance, just moved here from Michigan. He asked me if I would be available tomorrow morning at about 9 or 10 and I told him I did have plans then, but I'd be home all evening today and tomorrow. He said, that sounds like it will still work and hung up to reiterate with his father. Suddenly, without warning, I was given the image of that car sitting unsold on the front line of my car lot and the buyer, the young girl, running around with a different car, because Paul was busy with a ball game and couldn't sell it to her. I immediately called the gentleman back and said, I would be available whatever time would be convenient for him and I would make it my business to be accommodating. He truly appreciated that and I felt good knowing that he wouldn't be running around all day with my $3000 in his pocket, just burning a hole.

I called the Lovely Jules and told her I'd be late and she said, no problem.


Saturday, October 11, 2008

Life of a Retired Car Salesman...

(For Sale 1993 Buick Le Sabre $2995, 602 643-6200)
I advertised a car online today and as soon as I finished writing the ad and cleaning up the car, I got a call from a gentleman that was interested in purchasing it. Keep in mind I've done this a lot of times over the past 35 years and this is not my first time to the rodeo. First let me describe the car. It's a 1993 Le Sabre Custom with only 89,000 miles on it and it was a one owner from our Sun City area that is known for pristine flawlessly cared for cars. It's the original paint and the interior is virtually unscathed and never smoked in. It is as nice a car as I've seen in many years, with a carpeted dash and a little fuzzy steering wheel cover. The tires are new and it does have a crack in the lens that covers the right front headlight and a crack in the windshield. For this fully loaded masterpiece I'm asking a mere $2995 and remember, I haven't misdescribed this car in the slightest. No leaks, it runs cool and has ice cold air conditioning. When I started it, it fired up like a race horse coming out of the chute. I was even impressed. In addition, I just spent $800 on this car for a new fuel pump and an air mass control meter, to insure that it would be trouble free.

The guy shows up and he's hauling his fish wife with him that has nothing nice to say about the Dynamic Duo that are there to welcome them in front of the house and unleashed and loose. (The dogs, not the fish wife) After making some niceties, I decided I didn't like this pair of losers. He, was all knowing and kicked my tires, while making faces of disapproval. He asked if they could take it for a ride and I said, of course. I should have gone with, if only to make sure they didn't siphon out the gas, but chose to stay home with the dogs. They were gone for about 15 minutes, indicating a pretty good test drive. When she got out of the car, I asked if it was wonderful, something I've been asking for many years. It's hard to come out with a bunch of negatives when someone asks if it's wonderful. The fish wife responds with, "It runs like a 93". Now what the hell does that mean? Fish wife immediately vacates the scene and goes to sit in their lower middle class Tauras, while macho man does his magic on me. I can see this has been rehearsed. Here's the story. His son just totalled his car and the insurance company has given him $2000 for his wreck. In view of the fact that my car is literally falling apart and it will take thousands to put it back into the shape it rightfully belongs in, how close to $2000 can I get in the price? Here are the things he listed that it needed. Shocks. (They haven't used shocks on cars on many years, they use struts now) The tires, although new are going to dry rot here as a result of not being driven regularly. He priced a new windshield at $300 and I buy them new and installed for $100. Then the cracked head lite cover suddenly became a head light assembly and went into the hundreds too. I responded that cars now cost somewhere between $30,000 and $50,000 now and this one that is really pretty nice is only $3000. I CAN sell it for any price I want, but $3000 seems pretty fair to me. That pissed off Macho fish boy and he joined his fish wife in their fish car and drove to their fish home to discuss what an asshole I was, I'm sure.

Here's the secret. If he had told me that it was for his kid and he's a pretty good kid and can use a break occasionally, I would have made sure that one way or another he would have bought that car. He just used the wrong tactics. Retirement has it's rewards and telling Macho fish boy no, was certainly one of them.


I Think LJ is Practicing Bush-onomics...

I just got a little bad news from the sweat shop boss, formerly known as the Lovely Jules. I meekly asked for my paycheck for the endless hours I work putting together mindless plastics and she replied, what paycheck? I reiterated that I was referring to the money she owed me for the work I had done for her this past week. With a smirk on her face, she answered, you ate pretty good yesterday, didn't you? I said, yeah, but that was for free remember? She said it was free to her, but she was charging me the precise amount of money that she owed me for doing the labor at the sweat shop, for my portion of the delicious lunch. It turns out that LJ got $125 for writing the review in addition to the free food and charged me about $100 for what I ate. I wonder if that is worthy of reporting to the labor board? I better not. I don't want to lose my job on the "line"!


Friday, October 10, 2008

Bloom's of Scottsdale...

After spending a pretty sleepless night with my poor retching dog, I awakened about 8 AM with about 3 hours of sleep. Today was to be the day that my partner in crime and myself were to visit Bloom's in Scottsdale to do a restaurant review. The Lovely Jules, with her writing talent has been commissioned by a travel magazine to do a "secret shopper" routine in specific restaurants around our valley and she gets paid good money to do so. since her reservations are for 2, I have graciously accepted the job to help her with the free eating portion of the review. Not only am I qualified, but experienced in such things with my many years of consuming restaurant foods.

LJ arrived about 45 minutes early sporting a couple of loaves of white bread for Bogie's new bland diet. My baby boy that was so sick last night brightened his attitude when his favorite lady came bouncing through the garage door, unannounced. If Bogie had worn pants, he would have wet them. We goofed around for awhile and I finally threw on my eating out clothes. If I get dressed too early I get covered in slobber, which is not that good a look on me. We headed out about 12:15 for our 12:30 reservations that were not really necessary, as the place was busy, but not crowded. My first observation was that the young overweight hostess was wearing a dress that had come straight from the dryer and could have used a quick ironing. We were seated in a booth, as I had to explain to the hostess that I like to nap between courses while eating. She smiled and wondered if I were serious.

Our waitress was pleasant and sported a warm, friendly personality, although her profile made it obvious that a chin implant wouldn't have hurt. I don't think I'm supposed to mention that sort of thing in my review however. We ordered our appetizers. LJ had the calamari salad and I enjoyed my shrimp cocktail salad, as well. The salads were plentiful and delicious. For our main entrees, LJ had the meatloaf with mashed potatoes and green beans and I had the prime rib sandwich, that although it was good, not what I expected. I expected a meat sandwich, but the entree was shaved beef with a brie cheese melted into it and a mayonnaise dressing. It was served with french fries and I had an iced tea to go along with it. I will say that there was about a 45 minute wait between courses and we were mentioning the time element. Once again, our waitress offered her humor when she was taking LJ's appetizer. She gave her a stern look and said, come on, 2 more bites. We all laughed and LJ accommodated.

It was mandatory that we order dessert, to bad huh? I had a chocolate banana creation that was simply excellent and Julie said she's pick off of mine. I took the waitress aside and told her not to bring Julie silverware, but she did anyway. I enjoyed my dessert with a delicious cup of hot coffee that cut the sweet taste nicely.

The check was presented and LJ swiftly scooped it up and paid it with her company credit card. That may have been my favorite part of the meal! Not only did I get to enjoy a free delicious meal at an upscale Scottsdale restaurant, but Julie gave me her leftover meatloaf for my dinner. She called me tonight to tell me that her body parts were rejecting something that she ate today. I'm feeling pretty good, it may have been the calamari...

Part of the review was to find something wrong and tell the waitress about it and record her reaction to a complaint. Frankly, there was nothing to complain about, other than her weak chin and Julie wouldn't let me mention it...


Thursday, October 9, 2008

Is There a Full Moon???

Big day today. Sixteen years ago today, I moved into this house. It was and still is my dream house. It's far more than I ever needed, both in square footage and elaboration, but now it's home to me and my two best friends, the Dynamic Duo. I remember this day 16 years ago. I had a lady named Patti move in with me and Patti had 2 little children, 1 and 3. I remember watching little Stefanie walking with a glass of orange juice across the white carpeting and me walking behind her trying to convince her that it would be a good idea if I carried the orange juice for her. That relationship didn't last too long. I was constantly a nervous wreck and since I had only started dating Patti at that time, I had no problem suggesting other living quarters for her. I financed her move and rented her an apartment.

Not too soon after she moved out, her older daughter called me one night to tell me that her mom was in jail and I needed to bail her out or CPS was coming to pick up all of the kids. Patti also had 2 older children that had lived with their respective fathers, but had recently moved back in with Patti. I asked what she was in jail for and it turned out she had 2 warrants for her arrest. One for writing a bad check and another for a DUI. I had to go to the bank and get a few thousand dollars out before they closed and post it for Patti's bail. I'd never gone through that process before and didn't know that they refund the money to the person that lists their name with the police and Patti handled that. When she made good on her court date, I asked her for the money back and she told me she didn't know what had happened to it. It must have disappeared. She got me for $3000 that time. It turned out that Patti was a credit criminal. She never paid anyone. Her brother financed her new boobs and she wouldn't even pay him. He would jokingly call me and ask me to repossess them for him. Patti thinking that she will never get another chance to get bigger ones chose the largest boobs her slight torso would carry. Patti was about 5' 10" and about 110 LB with humongous boobs, like double D's. I'll never forget the look on my son Brad's face when he arrived from Illinois to move in with me, when Patti answered the door wearing a bikini. He was literally speechless, along with his 18 year old buddy, Eric.

I haven't checked, but I'd be willing to bet that there's a full moon tonight. Minding my own business, with the exception of writing one email to an old friend of mine, I took it easy and didn't harass anyone. I must have gotten 5 or 6 email from perspective women online. Sometimes you just wonder what you did wrong! Without knowing why, I felt compelled to write to MJ tonight. It's been a couple of months since we've spoken and I was kind of missing her. I hope she wasn't offended by my impromptu email.


Tuesday, October 7, 2008

That wasn't Yogurt, that was Sour Cream!

Doctor Harvey called yesterday and told me to use Magnesium to eliminate the horrible cramping that I'm getting in my legs lately. Also, he suggested fish oil for blood pressure reduction. Not as a cure, but it certainly won't hurt. Even I knew that Omega 3 was good for you. When the Lovely Jules got wind of his latest addition to my drug regiment, she immediately took charge of getting these items, as her former husband was a vitamin enthusiast. I got a phone call this morning, but as opposed to getting up and enduring the leg cramps that would come with it, I decided to call LJ back from my cell phone that was at my side.

LJ has been suffering from a rather uncommon disease of late, rendering her almost useless to the average onlooker. It started with a failing kidney and just my luck, it was the one that she was going to give to me! The continuation of her disease has later effected other organs causing them to completely fail or just temporarily cease. Some of the organs involved are her kidneys, left and then right, liver has stopped completely leaving her with bruising and yellow eyes, heart, spleen and pancreas have stopped and her brain is only operating at 22% of capacity. In some third world countries, she would be considered brain dead, but that's how I like her.

The Lovely Jules was driving North on the 51 and wanted to know if I needed anything other than the Magnesium and fish oil, as she was going to Whole Foods, her adult playground. I muttered nothing, thank you and she advised me that she was in a rush and would shop for the items I needed and then drive them by, but didn't have time to come in. I was happy with that as I hadn't even showered yet. About 45 minutes later, she called on my cell phone and told me she was here. I went outside with the Dynamic Duo at my feet, but I was able to slip outside alone. With some pretty disappointed barking being left behind me, I went to my driveway, where I expected to see LJ, but no one was there. I looked down 57th St. that empties into my driveway and there was LJ just pulling up figuring her schedule perfectly. She handed me a green bag that said Albertson's on it and told me to keep green. She opened her dialogue with me by telling me I look like shit! I asked if it were my hair that I had wetted and just slicked back and she said no, it was my face. Not much I could do about that besides stay home and hide it! I asked what the other stuff was in my green bag and she said it was yogurt to line my stomach with, as I don't want to take those pills on an empty stomach. I thanked her and wondered what I could do to look better, but couldn't come up with anything short of a mask, so I went into my house....depressed.

In addition to my yogurt surprise, there were other things in the bag, such as some chicken thing, maybe a quiche and something with cheese grated all over it. Basically chick food. I started to investigate my surprises from LJ and when I opened what was supposed to be yogurt, I saw sliced strawberries and granola and raisins floating on top of white yogurt. I went for a big spoon and dug right in and came up with a sour, awful look on my face as the yogurt wasn't yogurt, but it was sour cream! I don't think Jules made the mistake, but rather an employee that was either having a little fun or just creating mischief. Whatever the case, I enjoyed the strawberries, granola and raisins and just a little sour cream!


Sunday, October 5, 2008

A Day with Zoo Animals...

Mean Mona stuck her head up and called me this morning.. She had been in an abusive relationship with a tuna fisherman, just back from the Alaskan coast where Sara Palin is a household name these days. This guy hooked her pretty good, then tossed her into his boat, so to speak and hauled her ass around to the Arizona border for canning. She escaped my disguising herself as a smelt and was literally thrown back.. She called me, remembering that I was the only guy that dated her that didn't whip her, although I must say, she really deserved it.

For whatever reason, she wanted to go to the Zoo, probably to visit her ex-in laws that she claimed were baboons.

So Mean Mona pulled up into my driveway and parked on top of my very delicate Oleander bushes that were just started to have their fall growing season. It will probably take years for them to grow back after the beating she gave them with her truck. She laughed, beeped twice and came rushing in to be mauled by the Dynamic Duo. By the time this reunion was complete, Mean Mona looked like a glazed donut after a good reglazing and the dogs were content to lick and Bogie tried to give her a little bite. Mean Mona didn't believe me when I warned her not to touch Bogie with her feet.

So, we were off to the Zoo to visit her relatives and of course I received driving lessons all of the way there. I forgot that I drive too "everything" when Mean Mona is around. Too close, too fast, too jerky, too slow, too erratic and too unpredictable, mostly. Mean Mona did surprise me when she insisted on paying, which is always a shock when I go to the Zoo. The Zoo is no cheap entertainment. It cost $16 for an adult and she got me in as a senior, over 60 for a cool $11. Mean Mona was hungry and our first stop was for a hot dog and lemonade for $10. I brought water from home, as I'm a cheap date.

We walked our feet off and were constantly in search of the elusive Bear display. While searching out the bear, we saw the elephants, monkeys, a horny old lizard and finally the baboons that Mean Mona held a dialogue with, that finally ended in name calling and the middle finger. I'll have to assume they were the ex-in laws. Until you're heard baboons screaming with French accents, you've not lived. Mean Mona was noticeably shaken after that encounter and she looked pretty tired from walking too. I thought she needed a good Pizza to round out her afternoon so we headed to the high rent district to be abused, insulted and shocked to see that the waitress that was clearly in her early 60s wearing low rise jeans and a granny panties under her crotch snapping top. There went our appetites, but after watching zoo animals all afternoon, our waitress just flat fit in..

All and all it was a delightful day and Mean Mona dropped me off, relieving my poor Oleanders from their atrocity. Frankly, Mean Mona did smell a little like tuna!

Tomorrow, I go back to the sweat shop.


Thursday, October 2, 2008

The Story of Lori Picklestein...

At the end of this story, I'm intending on creating the moral to the story, so pay attention.

One day, a couple of years ago, I was cruising along on my dating service, when I came across a rather unpleasant looking woman named Lori Picklestein. Suddenly I saw that she was of the Jewish religion and probably out of guilt, because I'm originally Jewish too, I wrote to her. I also wrote to 12 other women that day, but she was the only one that responded. Initially, she was pleasant enough, but after I got to know her, I found her condescending, rude, arrogant and otherwise very unpleasant. Frankly, she had that Jewish, holier than thou, attitude. My first date with Lori, I took her to my favorite Chinese restaurant and even told her that it wasn't fancy, but the food is great. She belittled the place and made me feel bad for choosing it. The next time we were to go out to eat, she mentioned some place and I inquired about it. She remarked to me with her NY Jewess accent, "All you know is that crappy Chinese place of yours". Again I was offended and said nothing. The place she dragged is to was in the high rent area and cost me $65 for a shitty lunch.

That's right around the time that Lori told me that she had plans for the weekend and wouldn't be able to see me. Now I already told you that Lori wasn't too pretty. In fact she was downright ugly.........and old. She finally told me that she lied about her age and she was about 5 years older than she claimed, making her 58 or so. Lori's face had begun to fall off of her bone structure. The lines around her mouth were screaming to be heard and I could hear them. Eventually she disclosed to me that she was busy this weekend getting a mini face lift. I told her not to and she was very nice to me all of a sudden. But she never really let me finish what I wanted to say. What I wanted to say was, don't get a mini face life, it will never be enough! What about those deep wrinkles around your eyes??? So Lori went ahead and had her mini face lift, just the way she did everything, as cheaply as possible. She drove a used, cheap Mercedes that was falling apart and kept referring to her Mercedes like it was something special and she had a mini face lift that made her look better from the mouth to the mid throat. I spoke with her once after her surgery and she made it seem like she had just gone through brain surgery. Eventually I said to her that I went through open heart surgery and didn't complain as much as you. That's when she hung up on me and I felt like I passed a kidney stone. What a relief? I never had to deal with that miserable woman again, or so I thought.

Last week I wrote to a woman that said in her bio that she was a Jewess and was from Chicago. Again, I was originally Jewish and am from Chicago. I wrote to her and we chatted and made arrangements to meet and I eventually learned that her last name was Picklestein. What in the world were the chances? She was the sister-in-law of the mini face lift and told me that she spoke with her sister-in-law and it's not a good idea to meet after all.

The moral to my story is, never let an ugly woman know that a mini face lift is not going to be enough, if you want to sleep with her sister-in-law! Who knew?