Chapter Sixteen
Lisa reminded me of someone and I'm not sure who. It could be an actress or an ex wife. She was stunning. We spent the next hour talking about our lives, at least what I could remember of mine and what she was willing to tell me about hers. She has a sweet lilting pattern of speech that calms the anxiety I seem to carry with me, and a pair of bright green eyes that will occasionally flash when they catch a runaway ray of light. After we had shared everything we were going to for this day, she stood up an began inspecting my home. She rifled through my CD collection and pulled out an album. "Who are the Flaming Lips?" she asked with her head cocked sideways.
"Probably the best band that ever walked the earth." I said earnestly
"Is this a glam band?" She opened the jewel case and fired up the stereo.
"Not exactly...Try cut 6." I instructed. I wanted her to hear the song "buggin"
The stereo clicked and the music poured out. "All those bugs, buzzin around your head." Lisa looked amazed and confused but began swaying to the lyrics. The "lips" take some getting used to but she was making a valiant effort.
"Is this about insects?" she spoke loudly to be heard over the music.
"They fly through the air, as you comb your hair, and the summer time will make you itch those, mosquito bites." Sang lead singer Wayne Coyne
She pulled the chord on the drapes and the light became dim. Her blue jeans slid down her legs showing her red, thong underwear. I was very worried about what I was going to do about this. I couldn't possibly look sexy with a 2 foot high bandage on my head and a Fender Stratocaster t-shirt, ripped at the neck so I could slide it over my massive wound covering. She danced across the room, coming dangerously close to the cocktail table at times. She stared into my eyes as she began to raise her black, mock turtleneck up towards her head. The sleeves were tangled on her long arms at the elbow. As she wrestled with it, her entire face became covered and she waltzed about the room trying to fight it off. She was wearing nothing underneath and created a conflicting image of sexy versus comical. As the shirt became even more tangled she was finding it difficult to breathe and began hopping and pulling and, I guess, dancing.
"...And they bite, yes they bite, but you can't see them there.." The music played.
I rose to see if I could be some help, but she was flailing and spinning, her bosoms bouncing wildly. It was like trying to stop a runaway merry-go-round, I didn't know exactly where to grab.
Just then there was a knock at the door and without hesitation the knob turned and light filled the room.
"Can I pway wif Opaaa now? Bob yelled to be heard above the music.
Lisa planted her heel into a fresh gift of puppy poop and her feet slipped out from under her. She landed hard on her behind on the coffee table and recoiled head first on to the floor. As she struggled to get to her knees her butt cheeks rose to visibility, separated by a line of red cloth. It looked like a divided moon rising over the coffee table's horizon.
"Hi Lisa." spoke Bob knowingly, he never forgot a buddox. "Can I pway wif Opaa now?"
I grabbed Oprah and handed him to Bob. The puppy gave me a "What did I do exactly to deserve this?" look with his big brown eyes that kept constant contact with mine as Bob carried him out the door. Bob was cackling and a stroking and smiling as they left together. Oraph's ears were pinned back as far as he could make them go.
I pulled the tangled blouse from Lisa's head and we slowly stood together. She took my hand and we walked towards the bedroom. She pushed open the door and I turned my eyes away from her face, I couldn't remember if I had made the bed, or removed the plate of chicken bones from the night stand. I didn't want to make a bad first impression.
The door to the bedroom opened fully and I was overwhelmed by the number of animals strewn across my bed. Birds were perched on the headboard. Cats were sleeping on my pillows. Dogs were licking their fur, and other things. Fish were swimming in the air towards the bathroom. I remembered the summer I spent on my Uncle's sheep farm. Actually all the sheep in the room served as a perfect reminder. Paul McCartney walked into the room and began herding the animals away. I guess he really did die in a car crash back in the 70's.
"You two need some time alone." He started pushing the sheep from behind with his hands. He was much cuter than the guy pretending to be Paul McCartney is now. He sang. "With a love like that, you know you should be glad." Not as good as the Flaming Lips, but the sentiment was there.
"Lisa." I said. "There is something I need to tell you."
"Later." she spoke.
"Probably the best band that ever walked the earth." I said earnestly
"Is this a glam band?" She opened the jewel case and fired up the stereo.
"Not exactly...Try cut 6." I instructed. I wanted her to hear the song "buggin"
The stereo clicked and the music poured out. "All those bugs, buzzin around your head." Lisa looked amazed and confused but began swaying to the lyrics. The "lips" take some getting used to but she was making a valiant effort.
"Is this about insects?" she spoke loudly to be heard over the music.
"They fly through the air, as you comb your hair, and the summer time will make you itch those, mosquito bites." Sang lead singer Wayne Coyne
She pulled the chord on the drapes and the light became dim. Her blue jeans slid down her legs showing her red, thong underwear. I was very worried about what I was going to do about this. I couldn't possibly look sexy with a 2 foot high bandage on my head and a Fender Stratocaster t-shirt, ripped at the neck so I could slide it over my massive wound covering. She danced across the room, coming dangerously close to the cocktail table at times. She stared into my eyes as she began to raise her black, mock turtleneck up towards her head. The sleeves were tangled on her long arms at the elbow. As she wrestled with it, her entire face became covered and she waltzed about the room trying to fight it off. She was wearing nothing underneath and created a conflicting image of sexy versus comical. As the shirt became even more tangled she was finding it difficult to breathe and began hopping and pulling and, I guess, dancing.
"...And they bite, yes they bite, but you can't see them there.." The music played.
I rose to see if I could be some help, but she was flailing and spinning, her bosoms bouncing wildly. It was like trying to stop a runaway merry-go-round, I didn't know exactly where to grab.
Just then there was a knock at the door and without hesitation the knob turned and light filled the room.
"Can I pway wif Opaaa now? Bob yelled to be heard above the music.
Lisa planted her heel into a fresh gift of puppy poop and her feet slipped out from under her. She landed hard on her behind on the coffee table and recoiled head first on to the floor. As she struggled to get to her knees her butt cheeks rose to visibility, separated by a line of red cloth. It looked like a divided moon rising over the coffee table's horizon.
"Hi Lisa." spoke Bob knowingly, he never forgot a buddox. "Can I pway wif Opaa now?"
I grabbed Oprah and handed him to Bob. The puppy gave me a "What did I do exactly to deserve this?" look with his big brown eyes that kept constant contact with mine as Bob carried him out the door. Bob was cackling and a stroking and smiling as they left together. Oraph's ears were pinned back as far as he could make them go.
I pulled the tangled blouse from Lisa's head and we slowly stood together. She took my hand and we walked towards the bedroom. She pushed open the door and I turned my eyes away from her face, I couldn't remember if I had made the bed, or removed the plate of chicken bones from the night stand. I didn't want to make a bad first impression.
The door to the bedroom opened fully and I was overwhelmed by the number of animals strewn across my bed. Birds were perched on the headboard. Cats were sleeping on my pillows. Dogs were licking their fur, and other things. Fish were swimming in the air towards the bathroom. I remembered the summer I spent on my Uncle's sheep farm. Actually all the sheep in the room served as a perfect reminder. Paul McCartney walked into the room and began herding the animals away. I guess he really did die in a car crash back in the 70's.
"You two need some time alone." He started pushing the sheep from behind with his hands. He was much cuter than the guy pretending to be Paul McCartney is now. He sang. "With a love like that, you know you should be glad." Not as good as the Flaming Lips, but the sentiment was there.
"Lisa." I said. "There is something I need to tell you."
"Later." she spoke.
3 Comments:
I got worried it was going to be dirty there, but it was sweet. I like the bit about Paul McCartney.
By Dave Hoffman, at 12:21 AM
I never forget a buddox, either!!
Hee! Hee!!
By Max, at 9:59 AM
OK, everybody out of the pool!
By marksme, at 12:50 PM
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