Claudette: “Excuse me, but is this the way to San Jose?”
Originally published in “Crusty Pie” on 10/23/16. No changes made, even though it took every fiber of my being not to diddle with it, choosing instead to leave this one as a tribute to the early days of Crusty when the words were few and the humor more oblique. Of course, I’m negating the brevity with this long-ass footnote, making it clear that I couldn’t resist after all. And yes, this one is only amusing to those “of a certain age”…
Categories: Past Imperfect
Bonnywood Manor 
Apparently I am of a certain age. Sigh.
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Just breathe and relax. We all get there eventually… 😉
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Ha ha :O) xx
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They aren’t very fashionably dressed for San Jose.
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They clearly didn’t finish reading their invitations…
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I am obviously not a film buff – but something resonates with me regarding the name …..
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Well, this one is a bit of a deceit, in that the movie still has nothing to do with the song that Claudette is paraphrasing. These things happen at Bonnywood…
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Well I do know the song, and I admit to starting to sing it when I read the headline 🙂
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No. You have however found your way to the annual nightwear convention.
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And these folks better hurry up before they run out of shrimp puffs on the buffet table…
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and sorry looking sandwiches and rolls…
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The other ladies are clearly en route to Lourdes where they will take the waters to guarantee another year of inane grinning 😉
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Well, I didn’t really want to explore that angle, so as not to offend, but yes…
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Large Woman wearing her husband’s bathrobe because it was 1930 something and nobody had any clothing of their own. Everyone SHARED, it being the Depression and all…
“No dearie, but it IS the line for the Ladies Room. It ends over THERE!” (pointing to the bushes a fur piece off. “If you really have to go badly, I’d suggest grabbing a page from the Sears & Roebuck catalog and finding yourself a nice bush to pee in. Just mind the landmines that other, less thoughtful bathroom devotees have left lying around.”
Claudette: “I’m a REFINED woman from the Big City and how I ended up in this Dust bowl tribute to Grapes of Wrath everywhere is a mystery. One I’ll solve, no doubt, in my film “It Happened One Night”..
Large Woman who gets no credit: “I don’t really care who you are dear. Name dropping won’t do you no good in these parts. I was here first and no cuts, no buts, no coconuts…”
Claudette: “Dammit. My agent is going to hear from ME…” *skulks off to find the tattered S&R and grab a page and find some bushes that won’t cause a rash..
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Such a lovely allegory, proving that in the end we all must recycle, even those folks who pretend like they don’t.
By the way, since we’re in a safe place and can comfortably talk about anything, as a budding young gal on the verge of sexual discovery, did you ever sneak away with the latest S&R catalog and gaze longingly upon the male models in the underwear section? I know I did. It was one of the few exciting things to do in Oklahoma…
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Yes, I am of a certain age. The age before Dionne went all weird with that psychic hotline thing.
Girl, what were you thinking?
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I’m still mystified by the psychic angle. Sure, it had been a while since she had that string of hits, but why didn’t somebody on her staff pull her aside and say “honey, let’s talk about this…”
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I never did that, Sears & Roebuck not being delivered to BFE Utah…BUT. My mother had a girl friend who indulged in the short lived (in Utah anyway) PlayGIRL magazine. She brought over the issue with Burt Reynolds covered in shar peis and nothing else…the dogs were strategically placed, but my gawd. Changed my life that day…. 😉
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San Jose? Are you heading for the Hotel California? I heard there’s just some prisoners there, of their own device, but I think you might have the wrong clothes.
🙂
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Sometimes you just can’t kill the beast… 😉
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