Who Says I Can’t Double Park?

Chapter 10

Zeke turned onto Walnut Ave. Cars lined both sides of the street. Walnut Ave was barely passible for two cars heading in opposite directions.

“What are going to do, Zeke? There’s no parking places,” said Mickey his arms and hands were holding Tony Gallino’s package with a jaws of life grip.

Zeke gave a slight turn of the head toward Mickey. What are talking about? There’s one up ahead by Nicky Zuma’s piece of crap.”

Mickey bent forward toward the dash, “Help me out, Zeke. I don’t see it.”

“It’s right in from of Nonna’s. Nicky should know by now the fire hydrant is reserved for me. Nonna is not his nonna. You know what I mean?”

“I think so, Zeke. What are going to do about it?” asked Mickey.

“Watch this. I accomplish two things at once. One, I get a preferred parking space on Walnut Ave. Two, I teach Nicky not to mess with me. Understand?”

“No? But you’re the brains. I got my hands full. I can’t think about anything else than protecting this package,” said Mickey.

Zeke slowed his Chevy and crept toward Nicky Zuma’s piece of crap. Slowly, he pulled even with Nicky’s piece of crap.

Mickey peeked out his window. “Brilliant Zeke. I couldn’t fit a credit card between the cars. You didn’t even ding him. You taught Nicky a good lesson. Especially if he has to go somewhere like his shift which starts in thirty minutes.”

“Tough noogies for Nicky. Let’s go, Mickey. Take the package with you. Nonna’s going to have hold it to put her inner eye to use,” said Zeke.

“I got a problem, Zeke,” said Mickey.

Zeke was out of the car. He looked in at Mickey staring at Nicky’s piece of crap, “What’s the problem, Mickey?”

“I, I can’t open my door without whacking Nicky’s car. I can’t get out. What am I going to do?” asked Mickey.

Zeke took a deep breath. He bent over and stuck his head into the car. He said, “Mickey, hand me the package. I’ll hold it while you crawl over and come out my door.”

Mickey handed the package to Zeke, then slapped the side of his head, “Why didn’t I think of that? It’s like you can see things, Zeke, nobody else can see.”

A car behind the boys honked and the driver stuck his head out the window and said, “You know you’re double parking. You can’t do that on this street.”

Both boys flipped off the driver who pulled out from behind the boys and sped past them.

Zeke turned to Mickey, “Some people got a lot of nerve. You could tell he doesn’t live around here. If he did, he knows that double parking is legal.”

“Yah, even triple parking if a party is going on,” said Mickey.

The boys climbed on top of the hood of Nicky Zuma’s piece of crap, jumped once to put a dent in the hood, then jumped off. A moment later, the boys were inside the three-story house and knocking on Nonna’s door.

“What chu want with me?” said Nonna.

“It’s me, Zeke. I need to talk with you,”

“You sure it’s you? You got ID?” asked Nonna.

“I have my driver’s license and my union card,” said Zeke.

“I want three pieces of ID. I no fool. Any fool can make an ID. I used to do it all the time when I was younger so I could go in the bars.”

“Wait a second, Nonna,” said Mickey.

“I’m a not going to wait a second or even two seconds. If you don’t got ID, I don’t want to see you.”

“I got it. I got it. They all say I am Zeke Pratti,” said Zeke without looking for any ID.

“Okay, I’m a going let you in. But I’m not going to let that Palitroni in. I can’t trust the Palitroni’s. They no good for six generations.”

“You let him in earlier today, Nonna. He’s one of the good Palitroni’s,” said Zeke.

“Let me think about it. Okay, I thought about it. He can come in if he takes off his shoes. I don’t want no dirt tracked in by a Palitroni. They got diseases and I don’t have time for an STD.”

Zeke looked at Mickey and whispered, “Give me the package. I’ll hold it. Take off your shoes.”

“My socks got holes in them, Zeke,” said Mickey.

“That’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

“If you say so,” said Mickey.

“His shoes are off, Nonna.”

“Okay, you boys come in, but you tell Palitroni I’m a good with a knife.”

What advice will Nonna give the boys? What will Nicky Zuma think about his car?

Love Creates Miracles

Love always wins. Love conquers hate. Love creates miracles. Two men, from a culture far different from mine, teach me about love. They teach me about friendship. They teach me about the value of working together. They teach me about caring for the environment. If I could, I would personally thank them for being an example for me and all who watch this short Vimeo video.

“I Am His Hands. He Is My Eyes.” The Friendship That Built a Forest​ from Great Big Story on Vimeo.

Everyone Needs A Friend

Everyone needs a friend. We need someone who’ll set everything down when we need a hand.We need someone who’ll listen and listen until we feel better.We need someone who will accept us for who we are, warts and all, and still love us. Ye, we all need a friend. That’s the kind of friend I want to be. A young girl teaches us about friendship in short Vimeo video. Enjoy! 

The Deer Whisperer from Brad Herring on Vimeo.

Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

I open the door to La Flor’s room. She’s lying on her bed in a fetal position, her pillow covering her head. Her iPad blaring blues music.

“La Flor* what’s wrong?” I said.

Her muffled voice said, “I don’t want to talk, Ray. Leave me alone go away.”

“No, I am not going to leave you alone until you talk to me. I want to know what’s wrong. You are not a blues music kind of girl. You walk and talk with the beat of life kind of girl. Now get out of the fetal position and let’s go into the kitchen and have some coffee and talk about whatever is bothering you.”

Grudgingly, Flor untangled herself from her fetal position and sat up on the edge of the bed.

I took a look at her and said, “I think you should go to the bathroom and freshen up a bit.”

“Do I look that bad?” La Flor’s eyes raised to meet mine.

“Yes,” I answered. I knew right away, I said the wrong thing. It’s a species thing. I got to work on it.

“Are you going to put that in the blog? I don’t want my readers thinking I had a bad look.”

“Too late, it’s already in,” another male faux pax.

La Flor rose from the bed, went to the bathroom, turned to me, and said, “Is there any ice cream left? What about the chocolate cake? I think there were couple Fudgsicles left.”

“You cleaned up the ice cream. You licked the crumbs from the one-third of chocolate cake that was left until the plate. The Fudgsicles sticks have no chocolate stain on them.”

“Can you send out for pizza?”

“You can’t eat your way through this.”

“I can try.”

“Do you know how much weight you will gain if you keep this up?”

“If you’re good friend, you will write that no matter how much I eat I don’t gain an ounce.”

“I’m a good friend, but not that good of a friend. You’ve got to get control of yourself. Now go freshen up and we’ll talk.”

“10 minutes later I knocked on the bathroom door, “La Flor you have to come out of the bathroom.”

“I don’t want to.”

“You have to face the world.”

“I don’t have anything to live for.”

“Coffee and a snack are ready for you.”

The bathroom door opened. La Flor stepped out. I gave her a smile. She walked past me into the kitchen.

We sat at the table.  La Flor and I both have filled coffee mugs in front of us.

“Where is my snack?” she said.

I walked to the refrigerator and brought out a small bowl of blackberries and strawberries.

La Flor stared at them, then said, “At least you could have had chocolate covered strawberries and chocolate covered blackberries.” She got up, went to the cupboard and pulled out a jar of peanut butter.

I said, “Okay La Flor, spill the beans what is it, I have a feeling it is guy trouble.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“No, I could hardly tell anything was bothering you.”

“I do hold my feelings well.”

“Yeah, it was a wild guess on my part,” I said.

“I got an email from Jack.”

“And, what did Jack say?”

“He said he was thinking of getting a court order to have me cease-and-desist from stalking him.”

“Were you stalking him?”

“No, I was not stalking him. He mistook my 300 texts a day as stalking.  And, only 100 texts each day were selfies so he wouldn’t forget me.”

“It appears that your relationship is over. Look in the mirror, you are Leflore, beautiful, tough, and edgy, PI.”

La Flor pulled the teaspoon full of peanut butter away from her lips and smiled. She said, “Ray, you are right. He’s getting to be old-school. I’ve got to set my sights higher. He probably goes to bed at 9 o’clock. My day is just beginning at that time.”

“You’re a night owl.”

“That’s when the action starts, Ray.” La Flor looked over to the trash basket and said, “Did you eat all the cake and ice cream? You didn’t save me a Fudgsicle? I have a suggestion for you.”

“What is it, La Flor?”

“When you go to the Y, spend two hours at full speed. Maybe you can cut half of those calories off.”

“Maybe so La Flor, maybe so.  What are you going to do?”

“I’m texting my friend at the mystery writers blog and seeing if she wants to go out with me tonight. There’re lots of fish in the ocean.”

May the good Lord have mercy on the male alt ego species.

We all have down times. We all slip into depression. That’s where friends count. A friend who will be there with us. A friend who will not judge us. A friend who will listen quietly. And, a friend who will help lift us out of the darkness and into the sunlight.

* 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.

 

 

 

 

 

Are There Dating Sites For Alt Egos

No writer’s block today. I feel as if I’m on a rocket named mood swing. I have blog ideas riding my dendrites as if they were at the San Antonio rodeo. If only one of them would hang on for eight I might have something.

“Ray?”

“Z uh? What’s wrong? You sound depressed. Did you catch it from me yesterday? Your name is still Z uh, right?”

“I didn’t have the energy to change it.”

“You want to talk?”

“Are you going to listen or pretend you’re listening?”

“Can I do a little of both? You know how my mind works. Don’t take it personally. You have a good three or four minutes of my full attention. After that, I lose control. An alien force takes hold of my mind and sends it at warp speed to places in the cosmos that no man or woman have ever traveled.”

“Give me a break with the

Z uh’s comment took me aback. I’ve never thought about Z uh having a boyfriend. “What kind of boyfriend?” I asked with a bit of trepidation in my voice.

Z uh gives me a look that tells me not to go there. She said, “Are there any dating sites for alt egos?”

“Dating sites for alt egos? You mean characters like you who’ve taken on a life?”

“Duh! Of course.”

“Let me check. I’ve found one. It’s called Alt Egos Need A Life dot com. Let’s check it out.”

“Thanks for helping me, Ray. Maybe I’ll find that special alt ego.”

“Don’t hold your breath, Z uh. I got to warn you, there are a lot of sick, weird, seriously warped alt ego personalities floating around.”

“Give me your laptop. I don’t trust you filling out my profile.”

“It sounds like you’ve done this before.”

“I previously used one or two or three or four of my aliases.”

“Any luck?”

“All bad. But I haven’t tried this site. I’m feeling better already. I’m taking charge of my life.”

“There’s a phone call for you.”

“Who is it? I’m busy.”

“Your girlfriend from the mystery writers blog wants to know if you want to go with her to an alt ego club tonight.”

“Don’t wait up.”

“Be careful.”

“Okay. You’re a good friend, Ray.”

What is a friend? We all need them. It’s nice to have lots of friends. It’s even better to have at least one or two real friends who’ll drop everything to help when you’re in trouble. The kind of friends who don’t count the cost, time, or want payback. They pitch in because they’re your friend. This is the kind of friend I want to be. As Bruno Mars said in his song, Count on Me. “You can count on me like one, two, three I’ll be there. And, I know I can count on you like four, three, two you’ll be there.” 

 

 

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