Past Imperfect

Past Imperfect – #110

As he tossed and turned, covered in a light sweat, the writer had a fever dream wherein, late one dark and stormy night, certain correspondents knocked on the door at Bonnywood Manor, demanding entry and entertainment and booze. The writer sighed (inwardly), smiled graciously (outwardly), and turned to lead his guests (Sacagaweadly) to the Patsy Cline Parlor in the south wing. Along the way, he punched (discreetly) a cleverly-hidden button that alerted critical staff that somebody better unlock one of the wine cellars and somebody else better get one of their asses into one of the kitchens and slap together some cucumber sandwiches and shrimp dip.

Two hours later, the wine cellar was empty, the crystal bowls had been licked clean of the tiniest trace of shrimp dip, and there wasn’t a single unsliced cucumber left in the entire county. Lips were loose and gossip was gushing and unfiltered rambling was rampant. Let’s eavesdrop on their conversation, shall we? Left to right…

Christi: “Hey, what happened to the rest of my hair? It was all there when I left Arizona this morning. It really annoys me when things get out of my control. Say, maybe those shrimp were bad. I’m a world-famous cook, you see, people come from miles around to sample my wares, and I’m fully aware of what tainted crustaceans can do to your beauty regimen. I once lugged a salmon roll to church and everyone loved it, but then the next Sunday everybody in the choir was bald. They had to get hair transplants and they sent me a bill in the offering plate. It was a dark day. But I know how to make this day a bright one. I can belt out some showtunes that I learned on my recent trip to New York City. Anybody have any requests?”

Embeecee: “I think I speak for all of us when I say that that is not going to happen. Life is too short, although I’m sure you have a lovely singing voice that somebody back in Arizona can appreciate. But since you brought up the trials and intricate tribulations of church politics, perhaps I should point out that I’m an equality-supporting, free-thinking Mormon who lives in Utah. Let that sink in a minute. I face challenges on a daily basis that would completely untether the minds of most people. Speaking of challenges, why the hell aren’t there any barstools in this Patsy Cline Parlor? This is fun and all, but my butt could sure use a cushion right about now.”

Mary: “How lovely that both of you are able to blather on so about things that are not really important to anyone else. And I say that with complete admiration. We’re all bloggers here, in case that wasn’t apparent to some innocent victim who clicked on this link in an ill-prepared manner. The primary goal of a blog is the ability to bang on the keyboard in just the right way that your worlds become shareable, no matter how distant and far and quirky those worlds might be. With the right imagination, like finds like, and we all move forward. Of course, the secondary goal of a blog is to get The Cheeto out of office, because his imagination stopped growing the very second he discovered he had a penis.”

Writer/Brian: “My primary reaction is that I should just keep shaking this shaker until everyone passes out. But my secondary reaction is that I might have erred a bit in making a post so specific to certain beloved followers that other folks will run for the hills and never come back. Then there’s a third, more important reaction. Sometimes you just have to stop and take the time to thank the people who have brightened your life, even if it means you don’t have a storyline big enough to thank all of them. I don’t think there is a big enough story to encompass everyone who inspires me to keep pecking away into the wee hours.”

Margo: “Oh, let that thought go. I’m old enough to know that you can’t please everyone, no matter how much you might want to do so. You do what you can, you smile when you should, you love with conviction, and you write the stories that mix all of that together. And the right people will one day stumble across your tiny posts and remember and smile. Now, spontaneous poetry aside, how is it that you have inspired so many women across the country to knock on your door in the midnight hour? I only ask because I’m working on a travel app that will eventually allow me to earn frequent flier miles so I can go back to San Miguel de Allende in Mexico whenever I want.”

Claudette, whispering to her neighbor who had not yet spoken: “Mexico is the furthest these people have been? I probably shouldn’t mention that I’m from Australia. It took me three days to get here, what with that awkward moment when I was detained in Bolivia because apparently art supplies can be mistaken as terrorist implements. After I sketched a stunning portrait of the customs officer, he handed me a handsome tip and let me go.”

Osyth, the now-speaking neighbor: “Oh, don’t worry about it. I’ve traveled the world as well, living in fascinating places in full support of the bohemian concept that the more you expose yourself to others, the more you learn about yourself. At the moment, I live in France, next to some sour-faced and disapproving neighbors who clearly haven’t read enough of the right books. Still, in order to preserve the charming, alcohol-based camaraderie evident in this room, we should perhaps not mention that we have seen more of the world than the other four contestants. Discretion is often key.”

Peggy did not say anything, knowing full well that she had outtraveled everyone else in the room by a factor that was exponential. Why go there? So, she simply remained mum and took another swig of her delicious vino, not mentioning that she had actually been to the vineyard in Tibet where this wine was produced by intrepid monks who were still virgins. Unfortunately, the swigging caused Peggy to lose her balance and she toppled off the bar, landing on a covfefe behind said bar. Luckily, her cushioned tumbling did not cause any serious harm, and she was still able to click “like” on this post….


13 replies »

  1. Now I know what Osyth looks like anyway. And thank you for my avatar there…she has my legs, which remain my best feature, but that whole fur collar thingie? Well that was obviously a wardrobe faux pas as I was giddy about being included with such a sterling band of babes and that hunka hunka bartender. Do you have any more Californian white wine back there?? Just lightly chilled of course. *hic* ‘scuse me… not very widely traveled..I got California confused with Germany, France (sorry Osyth), Italy and other grape-ish places. But that’s the price you pay for being born in Utah and having them teach you about geography. Things get muddled… Hey Peggy? I got some tramadol if you need one..those covfefe things can kill a person!

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Oh? A list, in case you’re restocking your now bereft wine cellar:

    Chardonnay 1028.
    Sauvignon Blanc 333.
    Pinot Gris/Grigio 72.
    Albarino 20.
    Chenin Blanc 20.
    Gewurztraminer 9.
    Gruner Veltliner 6.
    Muscat 23.

    Liked by 4 people

    • You are a perfectly gracious guest, tidying up after yourself and presenting a nicely-typed Bill of Damages. You’re welcome to come back any time. But since you’re still here, would you mind going back in the basement and lugging up three barrels of cocktail peanuts? Thanks so much!


  3. Well golly, looks like I had a few before the evening got started! But I’m not so sloshed as to not notice Mary’s cute shoes. Well done girlfriend!
    Waiter/Brian: Please stop shaking so vigorously. Your prose is charming, but you need to work on your martini technique. 😉

    Liked by 3 people

  4. I think the Customs man was blind – I only do abstracts. Anyways, being as I am from the down under bit of downunder, my upside down abstract probably looked the right way up to him. Oh, are you saying that my abstracts can induce nationwide pandemonium as a terrorist weapon? I think you will need to ply me with much more aclomohol before I shall forgive you Brian Mr Bartender with the sticky-out-ears!!! Also, I never realised I had such a prim little lip-line, and how you knew I never smile with my mouth open (even after ingesting several glasses) is beyond my ability to understand. BUT I do have lovely classic heel footwear, second only to Christis’ (loving that strap) so in time I may forgive you. Thanks for sitting me between Margo and Osyth, I do get a little socially awkward. Nice to formally meet you other lovely ladies, now excuse me whilst I slither down from this bar and curl up in the corner – I’m not much of a drinker and I think jet-lag is catching up with me.

    Liked by 2 people

    • I’ll have the staff wake you up when it’s time for breakfast. Speaking of, will you be requiring the Eggs Benedict or the Chicken and Waffles for your morning nourishment? Or would you prefer to skip all that mess and go directly to the spa, where you can continue to sleep while soft music plays and the attendants fiddle with hot rocks and seaweed wraps?

      Liked by 1 person

  5. Love this! And more vino! I need it until we kick evil Cheeto’s ass to the curb. How often is the garbage collected on Pennsylvania Avenue?

    Liked by 1 person

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