Make The Extra Effort – It Will Make The Difference
Here’s a motivational Youtube video to inspire you to give it the effort you need to take it over the top. We are never defeated if we continue to strive. Never Quit.
Can I Have My Fortune Cookie?
The three of us, La Flor*, Little Carmen, and me sat in my car in the parking lot of the strip mall that housed U Shoe China Garden. That’s the way they spelled it, don’t email me corrections, por favor.
“Why are we sitting here?” I tossed the question out like a dandelion tosses its seeds to the wind. I didn’t care who answered. And, the dandelion doesn’t care where the seeds land. We both only wanted to get this thing done. The way I figured it, three things could happen and all were bad.
La Flor chimed in, “It’s only three fifty. The senior specials don’t start until four.”
“That’s all they charge for the meal?” asked Little Carmen.
La Flor turned her head, cocked it sideways, and looked at Little Carmen, then she turned toward me. I found myself in the position of the interpreter. I said, “Little Carmen wants to know why they only charge three fifty for the buffet.”
“They do? I’ll make a note of that,” said La Flor.
Is there any sanity left in my world? Has my life come down to being the straight man for La Flor and Little Carmen?
Why do we want to eat at four? Can I eat at seven two (remember, that’s how he says, ‘too’). I used to be a senior, that was right after I was a junior, but before I congratulated,” Little Carmen informed us.
“You mean graduated, right?” I said.
“Ray-mo you’re thinking of sugar. You know, the graduated kind.” I think he meant to say granulated, but this could go on for a while if I pursued it. So I nodded in assent.
“We don’t want to eat,” said La Flor.
“We don’t?” said Little Carmen. “My tummy is making noises likes somebody is inside me choking somebody.”
“Remember what I taught you, LC. Be nice and we’ll have something better later,” said La Flor rubbing the back of Little Carmen’s neck.
Little Carmen, who is not so little, seemed to shrink to child size in front of me. I wanted to see if his tongue hung out. His big brown eyes gaga with the beautiful, tough, and edgy fill in the blank.
“How can you be the Phantom Diner if you don’t eat the food?” I asked. My question made sense to me. Perhaps, I was the only one in the car to whom it made sense.
“That’s easy, Ray,” said La Flor. She patted Little Carmen’s right bicep, the one with the tattoo that said Mite. His left bicep’s tattoo read Dyno. I know it’s lame, but La Flor wanted in here. Take it up with her. She continued, “LC, tell Ray your plan.”
My worst fears started to take form. Little Carmen, pointed out the window, with a forefinger the size of a large brat. “Sees that guy, the one with the walker?”
I looked out the window, there was a guy with a walker headed toward U Shoe. He was followed by a man who was followed by a woman, both driving senior scooters. Both with baskets on the front. All three were racing at one point six miles an hour to see whose name was first on the seating list.
The old gal made a move to pass the old guy in front of her. A car honked at the trio who seemed to be crossing slow motion in front of the car. The old gal turns and flips the driver off, then turns her front wheel into the rear right wheel of the scooter in front of her nearly causing a senior scooter rollover. The guy in front of her can’t turn all the way around because his urine sack is restricting him from full mobility. She sneaks into second place at the finish line. The door to U Shoe.
I answered, after my digression into the senior follies, “I see him.”
“What took so long to answers me?” said Little Carmen.
“I was giving the readers some filler.”
“What’s they gonna do with a filter?”
“Stay focused, LC,” that’s’ a good boy. Here’s a mini Snicker’s bar for you,” said La Flor extracting a small Snicker’s bar from her handbag.
“Thanks, beautiful, tough, and edgy phantom diner.”
I’ve got my Christmas present in mind of La Flor. A retractable leash she can use with Little Carmen. Thankfully, Little Carmen lost his train of thought as he munched on his Snicker’s bar. The three of us went into U Shoe.
A medium height, thin, balding male who looked like his ancestors came from somewhere around the Pacific Rim, said, “Table for three?”
Little Carmen spoke up, “No. We’re going eat with those three.” He pointed his brat at the senior trio with two scooters and a walker pulled neatly into a circle in case of an Indian attack.
“We have plenty of other tables.”
“We wants that one, see,” said Little Carmen two inches away from the host.
“Don’t worry, he’s had all his shots,” said La Flor.
What did she mean by that, distemper? Rabies? Heart worm? Or, tetanus, polio, measles? I wasn’t sure.
“This won’t look good for you on the write-up?” said La Flor.
I whispered to her, “The phantom diner isn’t supposed to tell anybody she is the phantom diner.”
“I told you. I told LC. I told BC. What’s the problemo?”
The host walked us over to the table with the seniors. The three of us squeezed in at the table.
“What the hell is going on?” said the senior male with the walker, now known as SM1.
The senior male with the scooter, now known as SM2, said, “Victoria cut me off. I should have been second.”
“Leave me out of this if one of you want to take me home tonight,” said Victoria.
“Hell, we all came in the same SUV and we’re going to the same place,” said SM1.
“You can’t take Victoria home,” said SM2.
“Why?” said Little Carmen.
Question: Why is Little Carmen jumping into this domestic dispute?
“That’s what I want to know,” said Victoria.
“Sing it, sister,” said La Flor.
I began to look for cover. I said, “I’m going to the buffet.”
“No, you don’t, we go in order. Last week Victoria went first. Then SM1. Then me,” said SM2
“That was two weeks ago,” said Victoria.
I signaled the waiter, “Can I have my fortune cookie?”
“Fortune cookie?” Little Carmen took an interest. He said to the waiter, “Me too, and brings one for the beautiful, tough, and edgy, Phantom Diner.”
When will this end? What did I do to deserve this? Of all the alt egos available, I get La Flor and Little Carmen.
La Flor said, “That’s a good boy, LC.”
I was happy she didn’t say shake.“What’d he say?” said SM1.
“What’d he say?” said SM1.
“He asked about a cookie,” said SM2.
“What’s he want with a cookie? I don’t think we ate. Victoria, Did we already eat, I don’t remember?”
La Flor grabbed my arm, “I think they’re dangerous. Let’s get out of here, now. I have everything I need for this place.”
“You do?” I said.
“LC help me with my chair.”
“Here’s your check,” said the waiter.
Little Carmen said, “The guy with the scooter. He’s paying.”
Highlights from La Flor’s write up.
Mark the parking spaces by the tables for scooters and walkers.
Put fortunes in the fortune cookies.
Victoria has got to do something about her hair, it smells of perm.
My Fortune read: Your lucky number is 7. The moon is in your phrase (that’s what it said “phrase). Life turns on a daisy (I have no idea where they get these fortunes).
* La Flor is a fictional character and acts as my alt ego. Her character has evolved over the blog posts. She began with a single letter as her name. Her name gradually grew to two letters, then three before she settled on La Flor. She liked the name because it fit her idea of a beautiful, tough, and edgy feminine PI. It is my interaction with her persona that serves as the source of these blog posts. I have no notion how La Flor will continue to evolve. It is an adventure for me as well as the reader.
Don’t Let Fear Hold You Back
Fearful Of Trying Something New? Take heart from a young girls courage to conquer her fears.
Don’t Let Fear Hold You Back
Good Puppy
I have no secret hiding places. My sacred space evaporated with the morning dew. Actually, faster than the morning dew. Alone time? What is it? I feel like a third-rate character in a B movie. Okay, I write the script, but I’ve lost control. How can I lose control to the script I’m writing, you ask? You’re asking the wrong writer. Somewhere, who knows how many blogs ago, I took a right turn, or was it a left turn, maybe I kept walking straight ahead, it’s all a blur. I entered the world of alt egos.
I’m not the first one to have this experience. The cult television show, The Prisoner, from the sixties and more recently, The Truman Show present the similar dilemmas. Those were movies. This is a real life situation and 911 won’t listen to me. I’ll stop here, I hear her.
“What’s up, Ray? You look lost in thought?” said La Flor, taking a seat at the patio table. Of course, she took my coffee cup, help it up to me for a warm up. She wrapped both hands around it and smiled at me.
“Where’s Little Carmen?” I asked. I said a silent prayer the mob kidnapped him. I didn’t much care which mob.
“I sent him outside. I needed a break, you know some quiet time. He’s probably sitting on the front steps wondering when I’ll let him in,” she said.
I wondered if Little Carmen chased squirrel’s, or cars, yelled at postmen, growled at anyone walking down the street. Do I need a sign in the front yard, BEWARE OF LITTLE CARMEN for insurance purposes?
“Whatcha thinking about, Ray?”
“Oh, nothing. Nothing at all,” I answered.
“You’re thinking of something. I know you’re thinking something. I’ll figure it out sooner or later. Enough of you. It’s me time,” said La Flor.
How do you respond to that kind of comment? I thought of two or three responses and they’d all turn out bad. I had a strong desire to grab the coffee pot and drink directly from it. Mental note, bring two cups. Make it three in case Little Carmen shows up.
La Flor broke the silence, “I’ve decided to become a two-career woman.” She held up her hand, policeman style, forbidding me to speak. Then she continued. “I am beautiful, tough, and edgy. I’m keeping my PI shtick.”
“It certainly is a shtick,” I said.
“Thank you, Ray. I’ve decided to be a food critic. You know the phantom dinner. LC will travel with me. He knows food and can give me pointers.”
“Do you mean Phantom Dinner or Phantom Diner?” I asked.
She shook her head, “You’re not listening, Ray. Your head is not in the game. You’ve got a big part in this.”
That got my attention. I turned my chair to directly face La Flor. I kept repeating to myself, ‘Ray, listen. Don’t agree to anything. Think it over.’ The problem for me was I had a lot to remember and repeat it while I am trying to listen to La Flor.
She continued, “Since we’re just starting out, we need a driver, someone to pay for our meals until a syndicate picks us up, or the Food Channel. And, someone to work with LC with the menus. That’s where you come in.”
“That’s a lot of work.”
“It’ll be fun hanging out with LC and me.”
“It will?”
“I’m going to call LC in and tell him the good news. Do you have anything good to eat?”
“Everything I have is good to eat.”
“I mean a cookie, candy bar, you know what I mean.”
“No, but I have dates, raisins, and blueberries,” I said.
“Who are you dating? I didn’t know. How long have you been dating? What does she look like? Do I know her? Tell me everything,” said La Flor bending toward me.
Do I tell her I’m dating a dried fruit? How will that sound?
“Come on, Ray, give it up,” La Flor insisted.
I owe Little Carmen one, from outside the front door, he interrupted, “Beautiful, tough, and edgy PI, I misses use. Can I come in?”
“Isn’t he the sweetest, Ray? Where are the raisins? He needs something for being good.”
“You sure you didn’t send him to obedience school?”
Tomorrow the Phantom Diner may be at your favorite restaurant.
Change happens. It’s a part of life. If we don’t want to change, life’s circumstances often tell us we have to change. La Flor switching careers is a change. Will it work out? Who knows? At least La Flor had the courage to try something different. I like her attitude.
* La Flor is a fictional character and acts as my alt ego. Her character has evolved over the blog posts. She began with a single letter as her name. Her name gradually grew to two letters, then three before she settled on La Flor. She liked the name because it fit her idea of a beautiful, tough, and edgy feminine PI. It is my interaction with her persona that serves as the source of these blog posts. I have no notion how La Flor will continue to evolve. It is an adventure for me as well as the reader.
Lessons To Live By
I viewed this video on YouTube and the lessons offered by the Navy Seal commander at the 2014 University of Texas commencement are powerful motivators for anyone who wants to make a difference in the world.
Tell Him to Grovel
“La Flor*, you have to come out of your room. It’s not healthy. You’ve been in there all day. You haven’t eaten anything. What is bothering you.”
“What’s that? I wouldn’t understand?”
“I think I might. I’m one of the sensitive males, give me a try.”
“There are no sensitive males, what makes you say that?”
“Why should I study my species?”
“I think some males are sensitive even though you haven’t met one.”
“That includes me? What did I do? You won’t tell me? Does that make sense? It does? At least come up to the door and keep it between us. Yes, I promise I won’t look through the keyhole. Yes, I promise I won’t quickly open it. Now talk to me.”
I sat down next to the door. It was not going to be quick or easy. La Flor said, “Ray, Life is like a pizza with no toppings.”
“Interesting metaphor, La Flor,” I responded.
La Flor’s voice rising. She was settling into her onstage performance, “Life is like trying to ride on the back of a motorcycle when finally your hair is perfect and the dumb motorcycle driver doesn’t notice it.” if La Flor had a gun I think she would have started firing it through the door. Glad I didn’t write one in for her.
If La Flor had a gun I think she would have started firing it through the door. Glad I didn’t write one in for her.
“I have a feeling I know what’s happening,” I said.
“You? How could you know? You’re a man. You’re in their club.”
“We have a club?” I asked.
“Yes and no beautiful, tough, and edgy woman are allowed,” she said.
“I don’t want to be a PI anymore. I don’t have a reason to live.”
“La Flor, what is going on?”
“It’s all your fault, Ray.”
“My fault? What did I do? I only try to help.”
“You made me break up with Little Carmen.”
“That’s what this is all about?”
“Breaking up was your idea, remember?”
“It was not my idea.”
“You sent him to that Alt Ego boyfriend stealer JJ Peterson.”
“Do you want me to go back and read yesterday’s blog to you?”
“Pour salt into my bleeding wounds. Kick me while I am down. Hold my head underwater until I can no longer breathe. Force feed me raw veggies. Is this what you’re trying to do?” she said while giving the most pathetic sobs I’ve heard in years.
“Hold that thought. There is someone at the front door.”
La Flor, all of a sudden calm, said, “If it is LC, tell him he better apologize before I will see him again.”
“Why do you want him to apologize when you want him back?”
“It’s the way I do things,” she said.
“I understand. I’ll be right back.”
I walked to the front door, the knocking more incessant by the second. I opened the door. Standing in front of me with his apron on, covered with sauce stains that look like blood, flour over his arms and face, and his hair disheveled stood Big Carmen.
Big Carmen didn’t wait for me to say anything. He started talking and jabbing his stubby index finger into my chest. I backed up a step. He took a step forward. He said, “Ray, use and me we gots to talk. You know, man to men. My boy, the offspring of my lions, he cries all the time. It’s embarrassing. I have to keep him in the kitchen and tell him to make pizza with his back to the customers.”
“Did you mean offspring of your loins?” I asked.
“No, I meant what I meant. Everybody but use knows loins is a kind of meat. You ever hears of chicken loins?”
“No, I heard of beef loin.”
“Beef loin is overrated. It’s bad for use, it gots lots of those aunti’s oxidants. I’m talking chicken loin, its rare. The Chinese use it for an afro diesel app.”
“Do you mean aphrodisiac?”
No, I means what I meant.”
“I can see where Little Carmen learned all he knows from you, Big Carmen,” I said patronizingly.
“Thanks, man. Now what’s we going to do to get these two together.”
From her bedroom, “Is it LC?”
I turned and said, “It’s Big Carmen. Little Carmen wants to get back together.”
“Is he ready to apologize and make two promises?”
Big Carmen heard La Flor. He said, “He don’t apologize, he gets to be the dishwasher this week instead of the dishwasher being the dishwasher which is a machine if use understand how I brings pressure.”
“I do. Nice plan,” I said, I didn’t want Big or Little Carmen to turn violent. I figured the best way was to try to agree with them.
“What’s the first thing, then tell me the second thing after use tells me the first thing.”
“Did you understand that La Flor?” I said.
“I’ll start with the second thing because it’s more important than the first thing, but the first thing is almost as important as the second thing, but a tad more important than the third thing,” said La Flor.
I felt a migraine coming on.
Big Carmen used his flour coated, hairy arm to brush me aside. He stepped inside and walked to La Flor’s bedroom door. He said, “This is Big Carmen, beautiful, tough, and edgy PI. You tell Big Carmen whats use wants and use gets it.”
A moment of silence followed by another moment of silence followed by five more moments of silence.
“Use okay in there? asked Big Carmen.
“I was freshening up, here are my conditions, one, no tacky white windbreakers.”
“Done. I hated it. It was his Uncle Richie’s idea. He never had a good idea since I known him and I known him since he was a baby.”
“Okay. I never, ever, ever, ever want to ride on the back of a motorcycle again.”
“What about the front, so I can clarify it for Little Carmen.”
“Not the front, side, or back.”
“Anything else beautiful, tough, and edgy PI?”“I don’t want pizza every night. You make the best pizza in the city Big Carmen, but I have to watch my svelte figure.”
“I don’t want pizza every night. You make the best pizza in the city Big Carmen, but I have to watch my svelte figure.”
“I must say your figures is good figures, but don’t take that personal.”
“No offense taken, handsome.”
“Use got good taste beautiful, tough, and edgy PI. I send out for my dinner six nights a week BTW. I’d go nuts eating my food, which is very good, all the time. Can I bring Little Carmen in? He’s in the car hiding on the back seat.”
La Flor stepped out of her room as if she was going on the red carpet. “Don’t touch me, Big Carmen. I did this for LC. Bring the boy in, tell him to grovel a bit. I like groveling.”
I need some help, Big Carmen. You have some advice for my blog readers?
Sure ting, Ray. Heads up, readers: If your pizza don’t turn out right, call Carmen’s Pizzeria, we delivers.
That’s it? That’s the best you could do?
Best I could do after the stress of helping my boy out.
* La Flor is a fictional character and acts as my alt ego. Her character has evolved over the blog posts. She began with a single letter as her name. Her name gradually grew to two letters, then three before she settled on La Flor. She liked the name because it fit her idea of a beautiful, tough, and edgy feminine PI. It is my interaction with her persona that serves as the source of these blog posts. I have no notion how La Flor will continue to evolve. It is an adventure for me as well as the reader.
Save Me, I’m Suffocating
La Flor, AKA, the beautiful, tough, and edgy PI, and Little Carmen walked into Starbucks ahead of me. Little Carmen held the door for La Flor, then stepped inside and let the door close before I could squeeze in.
It was two in the afternoon. The drinks of choice in San Antonio on a hot July afternoon rank in the following order: Margarita – not offered by Starbucks. Beer or cerveza – not offered by Starbucks. Real Texas iced tea in a real Texas sized iced-tea glass not one of the plastic Starbucks things with high priced names – not offered by Starbucks. Then there is the fifty-two-ounce drink offered at all the gas stations for ninety-nine cents. Somewhere between uppity and I’ll donate my first born to Starbucks is their sugary, frosty, coffee concoction that costs the same as a good meal at a decent restaurant. A large line waits, everyone has their iPhone out, ready to collect stars.
La Flor turned to me and said, “Ray, give your iPhone to LC so he can order our drinks.”
“I don’t want anything. I’m only the driver,” I said.
“Don’t be so cheap. Live a little,” she said.
“Yah, Ray-mo, lives a little, like the beautiful, tough, and edgy PI says,” said Little Carmen sticking his paw out to take my iPhone.
La Flor said, “Pay attention, LC. Ray and I will grab a table and see if we spot LaRue. Ray, tell LC what you want.”
My first thought was, I want to get out of here. I was afraid Little Carmen would take me literally. So, I said, “A glass of ice with a touch of water.”
“He’s only kidding LC, get him the largest iced coffee they have and tell them to add a shot of espresso to it. I’ll have a Frappuccino.”
“Can I gets something two (blogger’s note: That’s the way Little Carmen said it, ‘two’ not ‘too,’ the way it’s supposed to be said), beautiful, tough, and edgy PI?”
“Of course, get whatever you want, Ray is paying,” said La Flor.
Why does it hurt whenever she says I’m paying?
Little Carmen handed my phone back to me and said, “How do I pay with the phone? Is it a trade or something?”
I reached for my phone and gave Little Carmen a quick tutorial.
“What’ll they think of next. I got to tell Big Carmen to get a Pap smear.”
“It’s an app,” I said.
Isn’t that what I said?” asked Little Carmen. Then he said, “You got anything on here I’m not supposed to see because I’m gonna look at everything.”
“It’s all PG-13,” I said.
I confused Little Carmen. La Flor rushed to his rescue, “LC has such an inquisitive mind, Ray. Run along LC, we’ll be waiting.”
Little Carmen blew a kiss to La Flor that almost knocked me over with the garlic flavored spray that came in its wake.
As soon as Little Carmen was in line, La Flor grabbed my arm, almost hysterically she said, “Ray, save me. I’m dying. He’s suffocating me. I want to dump him.”
“Dump Little Carmen? After the way the both of you were carrying on in the backseat?”
“I was holding my breath. He has the worst breath I’ve smelled since … I won’t go into that.”
“Is that the only reason?”
“No, it happens to be number seven on my list of reasons to dump him.”
“You’ve made a list?” I said a bit incredulously.
“Yes, and it’s growing. Number one, is this ridiculous, tacky white windbreaker jacket. La Flor in a tacky windbreaker? I’ll make all the tabloids. They won’t let go if they find out. If my public sees me with this thing on, I lose all cred.”
“And, number two?” I asked.
“His motorcycle. A beautiful, tough, and edgy PI does not ride on a motorcycle with her arms around a guy who’s wearing a plaid kerchief on his head to hold his hair in place.”
“Did you wear a helmet?”
“And ruin my doo?”
“Good point. What’s number three?”
“I need my freedom. I’m a free spirit. I can’t be tied down. I don’t want Sunday dinner at the pizzeria. I don’t want to smell sauce and garlic and pizza all the time. Oh God, Ray do something. Save me, I’m too young, too vibrant, too beautiful, too tough, too edgy to be tied down.”
“He’s waving at you,” I said.
“Don’t look at him, Ray. You’ll only encourage him. You’re the writer. He’s only an alt ego. Kill him off. Make him a greeter at Walmart. Do something.”
“You’re not an alt ego?” I asked.
“No,” La Flor said defensively. I move between worlds. I am the best of both. I think my mother was a real person and my father was an alt ego. Maybe it was the other way around.”
“He’s carrying the drinks over. Oh, Ray. He got me the largest, most caloric drink on Earth. How will I fit into my jeans? Do you know how long I’ll have to go on the treadmill tomorrow? Hours.”
Little Carmen sauntered over, his hips jostling tables on his path to us. “Here’s your drink, beautiful, tough, and edgy PI. I made them put extra whooped cream on it with extra caramel sauce. I got one just like it. Here’s your coffee, Ray-mo. Use guys spot LaRue?”
“I think you meant to say whipped?” I offered.
“I don’t see no whips? I also didn’t hit any body,” said Little Carmen.
“Do you understand, now, Ray?” La Flor said, her eyes pleading with me to do something.
I shook my head, then looked at my drink. If I took one sip, I wouldn’t fall asleep for a week. La Flor swirled her straw around the whipped cream and caramel.
Little Carmen removed the top and straw to his drink, raised the venti cup to his lips, and began the alt ego male ritual of consuming a drink without swallowing or breathing. This is done anytime an alt ego male is in the presence of a female. It’s a standard matting practice. Little Carmen was letting his drink slide its way through his esophagus. He was obviously applying a male beer drinking technique to a cold drink. I didn’t think it would turn out well.
The whipped cream gave him a white mustache, not a good look. Even worse was the caramel dripping down both sides of his mouth as he attempted to impress La Flor with his male, drink it all at once move.
La Flor whispered, “Reasons eight through one-hundred, please. I’ll be good. I promise. No more sassiness. No more wisecracks. I’ll cook once a week.”
Little Carmen, three-fourths of the way through, suddenly set the drink down and pressed the palms of his hands against his temples.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I gots an ice cream headache. Oh geez, these are the worst. How am I going to get rid of it? I can’t think straight or crooked.”
La Flor pushed her seat out, she took off her tacky white windbreaker, tossed it on the table, and said, “That’s it, LC. We’re done.”
Little Carmen, still pressing his paws to his temples, raised his eyes without moving his head, and said, “But beautiful, tough, and edgy PI, what I do?”
“You couldn’t drink your cold drink all the way down without stopping. It’s part of the job description for my assistant.”
“It is?”
“Yes, and so is not getting ice cream headaches. I’m letting you go, don’t worry, I’ll be a good reference. Ray’s driving me home.”
“What about me? What about my motorcycle? What about us?
I spoke up, we’ve already had one bad breakup and I didn’t want another. I said, “La Flor told me she’ll set you up with J.J. Peterson, the romance writer. LaRue came crawling back and she told him to keep on crawling.”
“Geez, thanks, beautiful, tough, and edgy PI. Does J. J. like pizza?”
“Loves it. All in a day’s work, LC,” said La Flor pushing me toward the door. Then La Flor whispered to me, “LC is perfect for her. I can’t stand her. She’s a snooty b ….” I stopped her before she could finish her sentence.
The best decision is to stop making a bad decision. That piece of wisdom I picked up from a book has proven its worth to me time and again. La Flor applied it to a relationship going nowhere. I hope the piece of wisdom comes in handy for you.
* La Flor is a fictional character and acts as my alt ego. Her character has evolved over the blog posts. She began with a single letter as her name. Her name gradually grew to two letters, then three before she settled on La Flor. She liked the name because it fit her idea of a beautiful, tough, and edgy feminine PI. It is my interaction with her persona that serves as the source of these blog posts. I have no notion how La Flor will continue to evolve. It is an adventure for me as well as the reader.
My Apologies to Canines
There are times when life grabs hold you and won’t let go. You want to escape from its grasp; its hold is too tight. Even the jaws of life can’t pry you free. These moments happen to all of us. It may be something as simple as being invited to a party you do not want to attend because someone you don’t like is going to attend. But, you don’t want to hurt the host’s feelings so you go and you are caught in life’s grasp. If only life were so simple.
I wasn’t invited to a party, it was much worse. Why I gave in and said yes might confuse IBM’s Watson. Here is how it went down.
I’m sitting on the patio. The San Antonio, Texas, temperature a tad above its average 101° for a July day. Not a cloud in the sky. I smiled, finally, life was turning in my favor. La Flor* and her main squeeze, Little Carmen, are off doing whatever they are doing. I’m interested, but only in an intellectual way. I do not want to get involved. How I got dragged into a parallel universe of alt egos still baffles me.
I have a Texas sized glass of iced tea sitting on a small table next to me. Clear beads of sweat run down its sides. A nice slice of seedless, chilled watermelon rests on its side beckoning me to stick my fork into it. It’s peaceful and it’s all good. It’s all good until I hear Little Carmen’s motorcycle a half mile away. Forty-seven seconds later, yes, I counted them, the door to the patio swings open.
I did a half twist towards the door and saw Little Carmen holding it open for the beautiful, tough, and edgy PI. Training him well, I thought. I wondered what obedience school she enrolled Little Carmen in.
Little Carmen cleared his throat and said. “All rise, the beautiful, tough, and edgy PI is about to enters these promises.”
“Thanks, Little Carmen, did you mean premises?” I said, and remain seated and watched the grand entrance for the beautiful, tough, and edgy PI.
“Use is confused, Ray-Mo. See, a premise is when use is going to do something use needs to do because you premises somebody use is going to do it.”
“Thanks for clearing it up for me, Little Carmen,” I said and wondered why I agreed with him. Maybe it was his biceps, the size of my thighs. Or, his broken, in three places, nose that made him look like a hawk ready to strike his next victim. Or, maybe I have a soft spot for a guy who makes a good pizza and treats La Flor like royalty.
Little Carmen holds out his hand that resembles an Alaskan king crab for La Flor. She took hold of it and Little Carmen led her over to me. He said, “The beautiful, tough, and edgy PI is going to speak to you.” I wondered if La Flor was going to reward him a treat.
La Flor doesn’t wait for me to say anything. She said, “We practiced my entrance all morning long and LC finally has it down.”
“Practicing for the PI of the Year Award?” I said. Then added, “I see you have a windbreaker like Little Carmen’s.”
“LC is so sweet, Ray. He surprised me. He even had my right size, size 0. It has my name in writing over here,” La Flor points to the upper left side of the windbreaker.
“Do you mean script?” I said.
Little Carmen interrupts, “It’s not scribbled.”
La Flor pinches, Little Carmen’s cheek, “Settle down, LC. That’s a good boy.”
I wondered if she rubs his tummy or pats the back of his neck.
La Flor pirouettes so I can see the back side of her windbreaker.
“I like the touch, “Beautiful, Tough, and Edgy PI and underneath it says Hangs Out at Carmen’s Pizzaria.
“Big Carmen loves it. Here’s the deal, Ray, we got our first case.”
“Because of the windbreaker?”
“Is it out of state?” One can only hope. I continued, “What is it?”
“J.J. Peterson, the alt ego romance writer, is sure her alt ego boyfriend, LaRue is cheating on her.”
“Little Carmen butts in, “If LaRue is cheating on her, I will squeeze his head until it pops. Because the beautiful, tough, and edgy PI is friends with J. J. Peterson.”
“Is she paying you for this,” I asked. Right away I knew I should have addressed La Flor directly.
Little Carmen said, “No, I’ll pop his head for free. It’ll be on the house.”
“I can see how that will help,” I said.
“Thanks, Ray-mo. I get a brain burst every now and them.”
La Flor is a bit puzzled either by brain burst or now and them. I didn’t pursue it. She waited a moment, then said, “I didn’t want to take her money, in her next book, she’s going to mention that I am a beautiful, tough, and edgy PI.”
I don’t know LaRue, but I feel sorry for him. I said, “What if he’s not cheating?”
“We gonna cross that ocean when we finds dry land,” said Little Carmen trying to impress La Flor with his intelligence.
La Flor turned and kissed little Carmen on the cheek. “You are so perfect for me, LC. Be a sweet boy, and bring me the iced tea on Ray’s table.”
La Flor speaks, Little Carmen jumps, sits up, rolls over, and if he had a tail it would be wagging at a hundred miles an hour. My apologies to canines.
La Flor turned back to me and said,” Sometimes good things happened to good people like when LC came into my life.” Little Carmen wrapped a napkin around the iced tea glass. Sweet move.
She gave him a look and I thought he might hyperventilate. I wanted to get back to my peaceful place, my iced tea gone. I felt confident La Flor would want my watermelon.
“Look what Ray had waiting for you LC, watermelon.”
Ray-mo, you the man, gimme a fist bump.”
The fist bump hurt. I wonder if I should have my hand X-rayed for possible fractured fingers. I watched Little Carmen pick up my generous slice of watermelon. When he finished, all that was left was the rind. He took the rind and scaled it across my backyard.
“Why did you do that, Little Carmen?” I asked.
“I thought I could use it like a boomerang.”
“You are the creative one, LC,” said La Flor.
“Don’t you to have to go check out JJ Peterson’s boyfriend?” I said hoping to get the dynamic duo out of the house.
“We do, Ray. That’s why we came to see you,” said La Flor.
“How’s so?” I said.
“You drive a nondescript Toyota. You can be our driver. We will ride and observe.”
“What about little Carmen’s motorcycle?” I asked.
“The beautiful, tough, and edgy PI is too beautiful riding on the back of my motorcycle. She attracts too much attention.”
“Let’s go, Ray,” said La Flor.
So much for my peaceful afternoon. I didn’t want La Flor arrested in a conspiracy to murder. Even if Little Carmen said it was justified. I’m not sure how alt ego courts handle cases.
“Where to?” I said once I got into the Toyota.
“Starbucks,” said Leflore. “JJ Peterson says he hangs out there and that’s where he meets the other woman.”
“And, that’s where he’s going to meet pepperoni and sausage,” said Little Carmen looking at each of his fists.
“You are so adorable, LC,” said La Flor.
“Which Starbucks?” I said as I looked in the rearview mirror and saw La Flor and Little Carmen in a passionate embrace.
I repeated my question, “Which Starbucks? The city must have a hundred of them.”
La Flor stopped for a second, “It doesn’t matter, tell us when we get there.”
Maybe it’s the hot Texas sun. Maybe it’s the sound of the cicadas. Maybe I can blame Ray Bradbury and his book, ‘The Zen of Writing’ where he suggested to let the characters lead you on. Taking his advice, I called Big Carmen and asked for wisdom to share with readers. He thought for a moment, then said, “I’ll give you the best advice I ever got, it came from my Uncle Tony.”
I didn’t say a word, then Big Carmen offered, “Be nice to everybody, you never know when they’ll want to put extra toppings on their pizza.”
* La Flor is a fictional character and acts as my alt ego. Her character has evolved over the blog posts. She began with a single letter as her name. Her name gradually grew to two letters, then three before she settled on La Flor. She liked the name because it fit her idea of a beautiful, tough, and edgy feminine PI. It is my interaction with her persona that serves as the source of these blog posts. I have no notion how La Flor will continue to evolve. It is an adventure for me as well as the reader.
The Day After The Night After
I am in my study and I hear La Flor’s* voice coming from the living room, “I think he’s in his study, L.C.”
A male voice with a sandpapery, gravel pit sound, said, “What’s he do in there, beautiful, tough, and edgy PI? Does he study? I never studies, it’s not good for your kidneys.” Little Carmen pronounced kidneys in two words, kids knees.”
“What’s that?” asked La Flor, she never paid attention in biology class because Bobby Genroe sat in front of her and La Flor and Bobby Genroe passed notes all during class. Bobby was kind enough to let La Flor copy his test during exams, which explains why they both retook biology during the first and then the second summer sessions.
Little Carmen feeling smart and desiring to demonstrate his high IQ said, “It’s simple beautiful, tough, and edgy PI if use watch Doctor Oz. We, that’s use and me, don’t have to worry about kids unless we gets together and if we do gets together and we wants kids. Then, I won’t study because I don’t want to hurt their knees. I always had good knees, that’s because Big Carmen never studied.” Little Carmen shakes his head toward the study, and said, “Does he mind if use bother him?”
La Flor working on her nails with an emory file said, “Oh no. He likes it when I bother him because I never bother him.”
“I am the same way. You never bothers me beautiful, tough, and edgy PI.”
Enter into my study La Flor, followed by Little Carmen, who is not little and fills my door frame.
“Hi, Ray. Got a minuto for Little Carmen and me?”
Little Carmen speaks from the door jam, “Hey, Ray. The beautiful, tough, and edgy PI, she’s really smart, if use don’t know. You hear how she talks another language. I don’t understand what she says but she says she’ll teach me.”
“The beautiful, tough, and edgy PI has a command over many languages, Little Carmen. I like your white windbreaker with your name in gold.”
Little Carmen turns around and shows off the back of the windbreaker. It says, “Carmen’s Pizzaria.” Little Carmen said, “All the employees get one. It’s one of the perkies.”
“I turn my attention to La Flor. I said, “I have a two or three minutos for you.”
I figured it out, Little Carmen’s voice is like one of those stations you want to pull in when you’re driving a long stretch across the west Texas desert. He said, “Do use guys mind talking in American sos I can understand whats that you’re saying?”
La Flor patted Little Carmen on his bicep. I saw his eyes spin like a slot machine. La Flor said, “We’re good friends, Ray, that’s all, but there are possibilities for more than friends, right, LC.”
“Use lead beautiful, tough, and edgy PI, I will follow wherever use wants to go, even if it’s to a Chinese restaurant, which I do not like. They use too much GMS.”
“Do you mean MSG?” I said.
Little Carmen’s little light turns on, “You’re mixed up, Ray. Use is thinking about texting, sometimes I see MSG for a message.”
“Thanks, Little Carmen.”
“Any time, Raybo. Any friend of the beautiful, tough, and edgy PI, is a friend of Big Carmen and Little Carmen.”
Raybo? What did Little Carmen mean by that? I think it is a good thing. I said, “What is it, La Flor?”
“You know I am …”
I finish it for her, “La Flor, the beautiful, tough, and edgy PI.”
“Exactly. I need muscle.”
On cue, Little Carmen lifts both his arms up to shoulder level and pumps both biceps. His biceps look like they belong in the Rocky Mountain National Park.
“Why do you need muscle, La Flor?” I asked.
She pondered the question. She looked at Little Carmen who is watching his right bicep pop, then turns his head to watch his left bicep pop. Then he looks back to the right and so on, and so on, and so on.
“Isn’t he cute?” said La Flor.
“I understand why you need muscle.”
La Flor turned around and threw her arms around Little Carmen’s neck, which is almost as big as her waist. She said, “LC, he said yes.”
“I did?” I said.
“Ciao, we’re going out for pizza?” she said.
“Where?”
“Duh? Carmen’s Pizzaria.
Relationships. Books are written about why we’re attracted to someone. Books are written how to make relationships work. My theory, people make relationships work because, suddenly, they care more about each other than they do about themselves. Each time I’ve seen people caring more about the other person in their relationship than themselves, I’ve seen the relationship flourish.
* La Flor is a fictional character and acts as my alt ego. Her character has evolved over the blog posts. She began with a single letter as her name. Her name gradually grew to two letters, then three before she settled on La Flor. She liked the name because it fit her idea of a beautiful, tough, and edgy feminine PI. It is my interaction with her persona that serves as the source of these blog posts. I have no notion how La Flor will continue to evolve. It is an adventure for me as well as the reader.
His Name is Juan Der-Ful
Do you, at times, make impulsive decisions? I do. I made an impulsive decision earlier today I regret. In yesterday’s blog, La Flor* discovered a new main squeeze. His name is Juan. Like La Flor, Juan is an alt ego. I thought it would be a good idea if I invited La Flor and Juan to Carmen’s Pizzeria. It was a good idea because Carmen uses tacky plaid tablecloths, it’s small, and it’s mostly a take out business. Big Carmen and his son, little Carmen, who is bigger than Big Carmen are the cooks and waiters. I was sure La Flor would say no. She didn’t. and, it is in Carmen’s Pizzeria where the following takes place.
We are sitting at one of six square tables. We’re the only people in Carmen’s other than Big Carmen and Little Carmen.
Juan said, “Nobody’s here.”
Big Carmen overheard Juan, and said, “Me and Little Carmen are here and use is here. So, what’s your problem? Use with the beautiful, tough, and edgy PI?”
Carmen has a way with the ladies.
La Flor puts a kiss on her palm and sends it off to Big Carmen. Big Carmen said, “If Gina was visiting her mother, I’d ask
Big Carmen said, “If Gina was visiting her mother, I’d ask use to come over. Not use, whoevers you are,” Big Carmen jabs a large flour covered forefinger toward Juan. Then he said, “I’m talking to the beautiful, tough, and edgy PI.”
La Flor winked at Big Carmen. Then she said, “Now I know where Little Carmen gets his good looks.This table is perfect.”
Big Carmen turns toward Little Carmen, “The beautiful, tough, and edgy PI is one smart dame.”
Back at the table, La Flor said, “What are you doing Juan?”
“I was sitting down, La Flor.”
“Did you forget something?”
I know where this going. A fast ball catches the inside corner of the plate. Strike one. Juan’s young, naïve, self-centered, typical male at that age. I said, “She wants you to help her with her chair.”
Juan looks at the chair, then he looks at me. He looks back at the chair, then he looks at La Flor. I can almost feel his brain trying to make a connection it never made. It’s painful to watch. La Flor cocks a hip and puts a hand on it. I whisper to Juan, “Pull her chair out and don’t forget to slide it in under her as she sits down.”
“Oh. Thanks, man,” said Juan.
La Flor and Juan slide their chairs to the corner of the table. They are holding hands. La Flor, in my opinion, overdressed for Carmen’s, but if anyone can pull it off, it’s La Flor. Juan is staring at her, I want to ask Big Carmen if he has if a bib for Juan, he’s drooling. Instead, I want to get to know this alt ego better. I said, “What is your last name Juan?
Before Juan can answer, La Flor jumped in, she said, “I already told you. Are you sure you’re not having short-term memory problems, Ray?”
“You told me Juan’s last name?” I said.
“Duh, yes I did. His name is Juan Der Ful.”
Juan nodded his head, “Yes I have a hyphenated last name. My mother’s name is Dür and my father’s name is Ful so I’m Juan Der-Ful.”
“How did your parents chose the name Juan,” I asked.
La Flor squeezed Juan’s hand and said, “Do you mind if I tell him?”
Juan shrugs and said, “It’s okay.”
La Flor said, “When the nurse asked his mom what they wanted to name Juan, she said Won.”
“That makes sense.” I said.
“No, Ray. She said, Won.”
“Like the number,” I said.
“No, Ray. You are slow. Won, like winning a game. It still works because Juan is Juan Der-Ful.”
Little Carmen who is six feet three inches tall, his dark grunge is spotted with flour. his chest and arms overdeveloped from lifting one-hundred-pound sacks of flour came over wearing his sauce and flour stained apron, “Whatchu guys want. How ya doin, beautiful, tough, and edgy PI? You free after? Maybe use and me we go dancing at the new hot alt ego dance club.”
La Flor gives Little Carmen an encouraging smile. Juan makes his first bad move, he gives off a slight scent of male testosterone.
Juan turns toward Little Carmen and is about to say something I fear he will regret until he visits an oral surgeon. Little Carmen spoke first, “Use better be giving me use order and not any crap about me asking the beautiful, tough, and edgy PI to go dancing after she dumps use for the night.”
Juan moved to male level two until he noticed the twelve-inch cutting knife in Little Carmen’s holding left hand. Instead, Juan said, “We haven’t seen menu’s.”
“That’s okay. Me and Big Carmen, we can make any pizza anybody wants, if they wants pizza. Do use wants pizza?” said Little Carmen waving the knife like he was conducting the symphony.
I saw it happen a couple of times before and it never worked out. Juan decides to go full throttle and impress La Flor. He said, “I’ll order for everyone.”
“I looked at La Flor. I know how picky she is about her pizza. And, she is not as picky as me. She rolled her eyes and slid her chair away from the corner of the table.
Juan said, “We want anchovies, lots of them. Don’t skimp. We want sausage baked into the crust. We want big black and green olives. I want you to spell La Flor with the olives. Instead of mozzarella can you use Velveeta.”
Juan sat back his chair, a sense of male pride sweeping over his body. His arms crossed over his chest.
Little Carmen bends over and puts his large, somewhat bent nose three inches from Juan’s face, and said, “The beautiful, tough, and edgy PI don’t like pizza like that. Whoever heard of pizza with Velveeta?”
Juan still being cool said, “Pizza Hut serves it.”
Bam, Little Carmen sticks the point of the knife into the tablecloth. “Big Carmen don’t use Velcheeta. And we don’t have lots of anchovies. Use gets four. No more.”
Big Carmen looks at La Flor, “Does the beautiful, tough, and edgy PI want her special pie with a glass of wine, on the house of course.”
Juan said, “I’ve had enough.”
Little Carmen turned back to Juan and said, “Use full already. That’ll be ten fifty. Thanks for coming. There’s the door.”
Juan looked at La Flor. La Flor was looking at Little Carmen.
I said, “Juan, it’s better if you leave. I’ll cover your tab.”
Today’s Lesson: A Little Carmen in the hand is worth two Juans in a bush (I know it’s not deep or profound. And, it doesn’t make much sense. It was the best I could do on a Saturday).
* La Flor is a fictional character and acts as my alt ego. Her character has evolved over the blog posts. She began with a single letter as her name. Her name gradually grew to two letters, then three before she settled on La Flor. She liked the name because it fit her idea of a beautiful, tough, and edgy feminine PI. It is my interaction with her persona that serves as the source of these blog posts. I have no notion how La Flor will continue to evolve. It is an adventure for me as well as the reader.
