foreplay: sitting at my desk. starting my column. deleting it. starting over, and again. cussin' over my shoulder. deleting another, etc. and this is only because 'my friend Flo', is in the chair next to me, aka: up my ass advising me what not to write.
Florence is her name and she insists on being called Florence, Florrie or Florra but not Flo, and so I call her Flo. FLO is high strung, a 60something - 'something', my mom's former friend until she moved to Florida 12 or so years ago. mom had a knack for her smirky, unfounded continual revenge techniques, even after I left the 'nest'. and with Flo, there's a different pain somewhere in or on her body every day since her life began or, you name it, something's always the matter with things, according to FLO, the supersonic bitch. (!WHIRLWIND IDEA!)
I'll write about you, I tell her. …she jumped outta the chair, rantin', ravin', pokin' the side of my arm with her forefinger, her short gray course horsehair topped her head like porcupine needles as she hollered threats of lawsuits, god-type-hell in holy (?) tongues and three german shephard attacks.
har! I told her she's a catastrophic cartoon character, a walking hemorrhoid in living color, an around-the-clock crank and people wonder why I tolerate her and her bullshit. actually, I find her quite humorous and depsicable, a good test for aggravation endurance.
well, she knows me and with reading this little ditty and without a word--- adorning headphones to my ears---she left in a huff, huff - tuff. damn@me! I shouldv'e used this approach long ago. but don't fret just because I do, she's the type that no polite accusation or vulgar insult could keep away. believe me, I've tried everything and I'm pretty damn clever! nonetheless, she's gone --- for the day --- which leads me to this one:
**********
well, it was Xmastime a coupla years ago; the night before the night before Xmas and I hadn't finished my shopping. it was late, 2 hours before department store closing and I had 4 pre-selected stores to hustle too, all in different directions. I gather my list and stuff and head for the van and who pulls behind? FLO!
o, fuck!, I thought...instant stress attack!
"where you headed?" she asks.
"to the stores to finish shopping." I said.
"I have one more thing to get. I'll come along..."
"well, listen..." I told her, "I have less than 2 hours and 4 stores to hit. I know what I want in each, so, it'll be in and out thing."
"I only have to get my gift from Chuck." she explained. Chuck, Flo's husband, a retired shipyard painter; puny, pussy-whipped; yet gets none; everything's-gotta-be-perfect and in it's place asshole. they have driven each other crazy surviving battling fistfights, worthless counseling and 30some years of continual damnation, brought on only amongst themselves.
anyway, 1st stop: Fashion Bug, about 2 miles down the road. designer jeans for my niece. on sale and sold out. I go for the door ready to roll to the next shop but Flo sees a fancy Sunday-go-to-meetin' coat she wants. that will be her Xmas present from Chuck. Chuck has long ago given up surprising Flo with a gift. either it's too big, too small, not what she wanted, not enough of what she wanted, paid too much for it or flat out didn't want it.
"this is it!…"she said as she hugged hereself inside the fake-fur collared coat, admiring herself in front of the wall mirror. "…and it's on sale. let me pay for it and we'll be out of here."
"yea, yea, it looks good on you. get it and let's go." I said, tryin' to move her ass.
she took her Xmas gift from Chuck to the girl at the counter in the back of the store, reached into her purse, pulled a credit card from a plastic slot in her wallet and handed it to the check-out girl. she snatched it back quick and decided to pay cash for the coat. she pulled her wallet out of her purse and put the credit card back in the little plastic slot inside the wallet. she fumbled through wallet-sections for money, counted what she had, searched the bottom of her purse and hidden places endlessly for more money. she didn't have enough. she placed the money back inside her wallet, retrieved her credit card again and handed to the young high school girl behind the counter and she started the purchase procedure.
thank christ, I thought...
"can you gift wrap this for me?" Flo asked the checker.
"we don't have a box big enough." she said.
"well, maybe I'll wear it." Flo put the coat on and danced around in a circle - lookin' pretty.
can an Alfred E. Newman look-alike look pretty? ho! (and NO!)
the girl rang the purchase up and handed Flo the receipt to sign.
"maybe I should save it for Xmas." she decided to take the coat off.
"well, do something…" I said. "…we've GOT to get out of here, the other stores will close soon."
"do you have a hanger for this?…" Flo handed the coat to the checker, ignoring me. (fucker!) "…I don't want it in a bag, it'll wrinkle."
"I'll go in the back and see." the girl said.
the girl went into the back area of the store and came out with a flimsy little plastic hanger. one like you'd see lingerie hung from.
"o, that won't do…" Flo said. "…do you have a wooden hanger?"
the checker forced a grin. she and another girl working the floor were the only ones on this shift. the check-out line was lengthening and my nerves were thinning like a stretched rubber band ready to snap. but I thought it'll only be a few more minutes. the checker went into the back storage room again to look for a wooden hanger.
she came out with a heavier plastic one. "this is all we have." she said holding the hanger in the air.
"do you have any plastic to put over the coat?…" Flo asked. "…you know, the kind like the cleaners use."
"I'll go look…" the girl said. "…you didn't sign the receipt for your purchase yet."
then Flo turned to me and said, "I don't know. maybe I should look in other places. other styles, other sales."
"do something, FLO! we have to get the fuck outta this joint and I'm not stopping back." I grumbled.
hahaha, one of the other customers clapped.
"o.k, o.k, o.k, I'm going to get it..." she persisted."...and stop calling me Flo."
the checker came out with wide brown paper on a roll.
"I could staple this around it." she suggested.
"o, no… you must have some plastic covering back there, all stores do." Flo insisted.
well, that was it. fuck Flo and her god damned coat. I left Flo at the counter and the irritated customers with the checker searching and searching in the back for some plastic covering for her Xmas gift from Chuck. Chuck would have been glad he wasn't there and I'm glad I left her there.
3 hours later, back at my place, my shoppin' complete, there was Flo. she walked back to my place, sat in the recliner drinking coffee, like nothing happened, didn't say a word about me abandoning her ass at Fashion Bug. she watched Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer on the tv with my niece - without the coat.
yea, yea, Flo'll always fuck up a wet dream and some other time I'll give you another episode.