Wednesday, October 9, 2013

Cancell The Fishing Trip



It happened on the eve of the date I had with Tommy.  We planned a fishing trip in the morning and a trip to the zoo in the evening.  I hunted for worms in the back yard; some for us and some to sell.  They were leaner this summer but none-the-less fine fish bait and would fetch a good price.  I had just dropped the last little slime ball into a jar and clamped the lid on when I saw a coon taking a tour through my garden.  After leaving a pile of its personal waste next to the lettuce, it took a jab at the peas and then gave me a look as if to query me; “What are you looking at?”

I shouted at it; “How dare you!  Why are you in my garden?  Be gone!  Will you get out?”
           
It turned its back and flapped its tail as if casting a hex on me while it took nips out of the green onions.  Then it moved slowly down the row past the tomatoes, its gait confident.  While it enjoyed a back rub against my freshly painted fence, I dashed into the house and rang a pest control company.

Minutes later a cargo van rolled into the driveway.  It was obvious it was the crew I’d called by the picture on the van; a menacing tiger ripping apart a monstrous rat.
           
Two men hopped out; Jack and Ralph.  When Jack saw the raccoon digging in my garden, he said, oh, so wisely; “Yup!  Looks like you got yourself a pest.”
           
After my eyes finished rolling, we discussed the fees.
           
The animal was easily enticed with a pile of walnuts.  It waddled into the cage eyeing one walnut that jutted out from between the bars.  Ralph pulled the pin.  The door rolled swiftly down catching Ralph’s middle finger in a cog.  He screamed it was broken and said I was to pay for his x-rays.

“Ha!”  I shouted.  “I’ll see you in jail first!”
           
And that’s when the riot broke out.

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

A Job To Suit Your Life Style

The sign in the coffee shop window reads; "Imagine a job that suits your life style". Oh, yeah! Right! Like there is one! But just imagine if there was an easy-paced, non-stressful job with holidays galore, great benefits, excellent pay to keep one far above the poverty line, working according to one's own relaxed time schedule and that could be done from the comfort of one's home. Imagine...

Snuggled in cozy pajamas or a track suit; feet up on the desk; drinking cappuccino and the money is rolling in. Instead of the computer beeping "You have mail" it says something worth while to interrupt day dreams - "Sir/Madam, you have a cheque". Yes! Now that's the life!

But alas, that is not the life style the advertised job will bring. What can one expect at a coffee shop except a dull coloured uniform; aching legs and back from standing on a hard floor for hours; cleaning up after strangers; pouring coffee, pouring coffee, pouring coffee...and all that for little pay. But it is an honest living! It's a physically demanding job that I wouldn't be able to do - not even a two-hour shift. Hats off to you, Coffee Servers! Thanks for the java!

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Blackberry and Strawberry

The coffee shop is busy as usual. It's coffee break time. My, oh my! But we Canadians know how to enjoy a coffee break.

A young mother is having her coffee break with a young boy of about ten years of age - perhaps her son. The young boy studies his new CD. A thought just popped into my head. Oh, dear there goes my imagination again. Here's the scene;

An elderly mother is having lunch with her young adult son. They don't speak; in fact the young man fidgets with his tie and glances around the restaurant perhaps hoping to recognize someone. Every now and then, the mother's lips part as if she is about to say something but instead looks anxiously at her son. After a few awkward moments, the young man casually slips a new technical device from his jacket pocket and turns it on. As he ponders over information on the device, his soup cools.

Suddenly his mother sits up straight, her eyes twinkling. She smiles slightly as she sees an opportunity to begin a conversation. She is about to show her son that she is also up on the popular new technical gadgets of the day.

"Is that your new strawberry?" she asks her son.

The young man sighs deeply and throws her a look of disgust as he replies angrily, almost in a growl; "Blackberry, Mom! Blackberry!"

Wednesday, September 3, 2008

Coffee Shop Emergency

The EMS parked alongside the coffee shop. Nobody needed assistance – the two fellows just dropped in to pick up coffee to go. But can you imagine if there was a medical problem? Here’s the scene;

“Help! Someone help!” an elderly man shouts. “My wife’s choking on a jelly donut! Her favourite. Darn woman! I told her those things would be the death of her yet!”

Meanwhile a store clerk has called the EMS. The fellows rush in – Mutt and Jeff. They assess the situation. Mutt pulls out a coin from his pocket and flips it to see who gets the job of doing the Heimlich Maneuver. Jeff wins. He leans over, pulls the elderly woman up and throws his big arms around her. With one sharp thrust the chunk of jelly donut is airborne like a projectile missile. The gooey chunk lands with a splash into a child’s soup bowl.

The elderly lady slumps back into her chair relieved. Her eyes glisten as she stares up at the young man, Jeff who just saved her life. “Will you marry me?” she whispers as seductively as a woman of eighty can with her dentures loose in her mouth.

Her husband grunts, “You’re already married, you old fool!”

Another emergency call comes across on the EMS’ radio. Mutt and Jeff race out to the ambulance and peel rubber as they squeal out of the parking lot with the siren screeching.

Thursday, August 14, 2008

Real Eggs

One morning as I was out and about, I popped into a fast food restaurant for breakfast. The best on the menu was the new ‘protein platter’. It sounded like an excellent choice – healthy and nutritious. In fact, I was told repeatedly that it was made with ‘real eggs’ which made me wonder what was in the other breakfast dishes. It also had a stripe of bacon, a thin slice of ham, and a small sausage paddy. Everything tasted real. And not only did everything taste real; it had less than six grams of carbohydrates. Along with that dish, I ordered a coffee and an English muffin. Pretty good breakfast, wouldn’t you say?

Of course while I was sitting there stuffing my pretty little face with real eggs, my imagination entertained me once more when the clerk behind the counter dropped a fork. Here’s the scene;

The clerk picks up the fork that she just dropped on the floor. She quickly passes her tongue over it, smiles at the elderly couple at the counter who have just placed their order, and sets the fork on their tray as she announces; “There! All clean now!”

The male customer turns a greenish colour as he stares at the fork in disbelief. His wife passes out. A loud thud is heard as she hits the floor. The clerk leans over the counter to look at the elderly lady sprawled on the floor and says, “The poor dear must be hypoglycemic.”

Wednesday, August 6, 2008

Mixed Emotions

Earlier this year, I enjoyed receiving my very first senior’s discount. There was a sale at a department store, plus customers fifty-five and over were offered a ten percent discount. I rushed in to make my purchase. Because I knew exactly what I wanted, it only took about ten minutes to find the item.

I dashed to the cashier with excitement. The young cashier rang in the sale and then I shyly asked for my senior’s discount. Without hesitation she said I could have the discount on the sale price. My excitement grew as I mentally counted the pennies I was saving on this deal. I told her I could show her proof of age, in fact, I’d be delighted. I zipped open my wallet and was about to show her my driver’s license when she replied in a cheery voice, “Oh, I don’t need proof.”

As I stood there in a shocked state with mixed emotions swirling within me, I wondered if I should check my face in a mirror. Perhaps I had aged greatly while standing in line. Perhaps my face had suddenly wrinkled like a prune and sagged like a wet towel. And if not, I’d put my face into hers and repeat the question – loudly. But I didn’t, instead I hastily paid for my purchase, grabbed the bag and ran for the doors.

Just wait ‘til she ages!

Wednesday, July 30, 2008

Coffee Shop Brawl

A tall husky police officer was standing in the coffee shop line-up just ahead of me. Sure makes one feel safe having an officer of the law nearby. But then again how many coffee shops have had problems – none that I know. But, what if…my imagination went into gear. Here’s the scene;

A rough and tough looking fellow walks up to the counter and says in a gruff voice, “Put all the donuts into the bag and no one will get hurt.”

The young clerk remains calm. Her hand slips unseen under the counter and she pushes the silent alarm button. Within seconds two police officers race into the shop, guns pointed. They quickly apprehend the culprit, snatch the bag of donuts from his hand, slap on the cuffs and secure him to a chair. Then they sit down at a table and sort through the donuts. When they discover there is only one triple chocolate donut, they wrestle for it. The older one is quickly knocked down. They kick and grapple on the floor. Customers jump aside. Elderly ladies scream, throwing their arms around their feeble old husbands.

Suddenly the struggle ends – the donut is crushed beyond recognition. Crumbs are strewn about on the floor and the paper muffin cup is torn in half. The two officers rise wearily from the floor, brush off their trousers and slump into chairs panting. The young clerk walks out from behind the counter with a broom and dust pan. She sweeps up the crumbs, broken napkin holder and the shattered cups that have fallen on the ceramic floor.

Soon everything is back to normal – business as usual.