pizza

When Does The Photo Shoot Start?

by

What happened in Vegas, stayed in Vegas.

The four of us are out for free pizza courtesy of Big Carmen.

“It’s a good ting my daddy is generous to us seeing he knows I spents a lot of cash on the beautiful, tough, and edgy woman in Vegas. And, it was all worth it,” said Little Carmen. I give the boy credit for a quick recovery. I want to high five him, but decide not to.

I give the boy credit for a quick recovery. I want to high five him, but decide not to.

“Who’s your daddy?” asked TT.

TT needs some work on his street smarts. It’s a toss up if he’ll survive the rough and tumble world of the alt egos.

“Are you clueless?” asked La Flor. “Who do you think sired this hunk?” La Flor now stroking the dark black hair of her well trained Little Carmen.

“Did he says ‘who’s my daddy?” Little Carmen makes squeezing motions with his fists., he needs a clue, beautiful, tough, edgy and I

“Easy, easy, big fellow. He doesn’t understand the way of the world like my hunk,” said La Flor.

“For use, I will give him a clue,” said Little Carmen. His voice about as suck up as a masculine male voice can sound.

TT acted as if he was the recipient of a series of electrical prods. He squirmed non stop. His hives spread across his neck rising to his cheeks. Both eyes twitching. His knees jerking.

“Do use have hemorrhoidals, TT? asked Little Carmen.

“I love it when TT gets nervous. He changes colors so quickly,” said La Flor.

“Uh, no.”

“Then whys use squirming like a bug on an anchovy pizza?” asked Little Carmen.

I interrupted, “TT has never met Big Carmen. He doesn’t know Big Carmen is your daddy,” I said.

“It’s okay, Ray. LC knows I love it when TT gets nervous. Look at him move. He could be on America’s Got Talent,” said La Flor.

“I’s gonna interest him to my daddy, utterwise (yes, he said, utterwise and interest instead of introduce) who is known to all, including me as Big Carmen,” said Little Carmen. Then he hollered toward the counter, “Big Carmen, if use can spare us a moment or four, can use come over? I want use to meet TT.”

“Lemmie finish this pie, Little Carmen. Since you’ve been with, and don’t get me wrong, the beautiful dish who is sitting next to use and I don’t mean, Ray, I has to work twice, maybe six times as hard making pizza. This is because I don’t have no quality help around here,” Big Carmen hollered from behind the counter.

“What happened to cousin Ernie? He didn’t work out?” asked Little Carmen.

“Ernie was working out fine. He was even doing deliveries for me. How’s I to know that he was casing houses when he delivered pizza. If I’d know that I would not have him doing deliveries. Now, the cops are detaining him until bail can be posted. I will not bail his sorry butt out. I will let Rogerio bail out his son.”

“Where’s Rogerio gonna come up with the cash?” asked Little Carmen.

“Not to worry. I loaned it to him at a favorable interest rate,” said Big Carmen.

TT said, “That’s your dad? He won’t hurt me, right?”

“Why’s he gonna hurt use? Use swiping the sugar or pepper packets? Maybe use is swiping the sugar substitute packets. If use is doing this, give them up now and I will speak in your behalfs,” said Little Carmen.

“I, I never stole anything. Honest,” TT’s voice a tick below high C. His right knee timed out at ninety-three miles an hour.

Big Carmen strolled over, “How’s the most beautiful girl on the planet doing?” He ignored the rest of us.

“If you were only twenty years younger, I’d dumped LC,” smiled La Flor.

“Use gonna dump me for Big Carmen,” a note of panic in Little Carmen’s voice.

“I said if Big Carmen is twenty years younger, LC. You don’t have to worry unless Big Carmen can make himself twenty years younger.”

“Big Carmen, use is not going to make useself twenty years younger, promise me that,” begged Little Carmen.

“No, I will do use that favor. But’s I have a big favor. I mean a really, really, really big favor I to ask this beautiful woman. If she says yes, I will be in her debt and possibly yours. But I will not be in Ray’s debt or in the skinny radish with the high pitched voice. Doesn’t he have any use knows what?”

“They was twisted in a misunderstanding, Big Carmen,” said Little Carmen. “I am hoping they get better of their own accordion.”

La Flor’s interest is piqued, “What is it BC?”

“I wants use to be the public Image of Carmen’s Pizzeria. I will plaster your beautiful image all over this city and television. When peoples see use, they will thinks Carmen’s Pizzeria. Can we make a deal that will be generous to two faults for use?”

“I need time to think it over,” said La Flor.

“How much times do use need?” asked Big Carmen.

“It’s a deal. When do we do the photo shoot?” she said.

A photo shoot? La Flor, the image of Carmen’s Pizzeria? Where is this all leading?

 

 

He’s The Perfect Accessory

by

I’m acting like a child. I am embarrassed. I am hiding in the closet. It’s the only place where I can find peace and quiet. There are no windows, but I have photos of the Grand Canyon, Padre Island, and the Rocky Mountain National Park scotched taped to the back of the door. Next to me is my Keurig Coffee Maker. My cup of coffee, fresh, hot, and all mine, until . . .

“Ray, I know you’re in there,” said La Flor*.

“No, I’m not,” I said in a falsetto voice and realized the mistake I made by saying, ‘No, I’m not.’ Hopefully, she won’t pick up on it.

“I know it’s you. I can smell my coffee,” said La Flor

“How do you know? Your coffee?” I’ve truly lost it. I’m hiding from an alt ego and her boyfriend. I’m using a falsetto voice as a disguise. And, now, I’m debating whether I’m in here or not. Where’s Dr. Phil when you need him. That’s right, according to La Flor, he’s an alt ego.

“Either come out, Ray or LC will break down the door and drag you out. It’s for your own good,” said La Flor.

“My own good is to stay inside here until you two, too, or to go out for chicken wings,” I said.

“Do you have a stuttering problem? Asked La Flor.

“No.”

“It sounded like you stuttered when you said to, two, or too,” said La Flor.

“You’re not going to let me alone until I come out, am I correct?” a moment of silence. I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t want Little Carmen to kick down the door. I said, “What?”

“I nodded my head, Ray. What are you waiting for?” said La Flor.

I can’t answer. There is no logical response to seeing a head nod while behind the door. If I had a white flag, I’d wave it. I opened the door, coffee in hand, and stepped out.

La Flor reached for the cup, took it from me, and sipped, “This is good. I needed a good cup of coffee. Thanks, Ray.”

Will I ever get to drink a cup of coffee? I wonder what the Vegas odds are on that one.

Little Carmen, who occasionally can read my mind and little else, said, “About 75 to 1.”

La Flor looked at him, “Is it football season already?”

“No, beautiful, tough, and edgy sometimes a thought comes into my head.”“I like it better when you’re thoughtless.”

“I like it better when you’re thoughtless.” said La Flor.

“Me two,” said Little Carmen (it’s really not that hard to use too instead of two. Why can’t he get it?).

“We need too talk, Ray,” said La Flor (Okay, La Flor is using too instead of to – did they both miss it in alt ego grade school?).

“You’re always saying we need to talk,” I replied.

“No, I’m not. Sometimes I’m saying where are we going tonight. Sometimes I’m saying LC I need a glass of wine.”

Little Carmen interrupted La Flor before she could give another example, “I’m on it. White vino, which rhymes with dino, beautiful, tough, and edgy woman who needs to speak to Ray about whatever.”

“Yes, LC, not in a Styrofoam cup this time,” said La Flor.

“That’s the way Big Carmen serves it,” said LC.

I want to go back into the closet. No, I want to climb on the roof and signal passing planes to send help.

“I don’t care if he serves it in a Starbucks venti cup, I want it in a fancy wine glass.”

“Use gonna get more if I goes and gets a Starbucks venti cup,” said Little Carmen. The expression on his face looked like he was pleased with himself.

If she sends Little Carmen to Starbucks as she did yesterday, I wondered if the paramedics will bring him back.

La Flor turned to me and said, “Ray, it’s time for an intervention.”

I said, “Please don’t watch Dr. Phil or talk to the alt ego who plays Dr. Phil.”

Then Little Carmen joined the conversation, “I can helps you, beautiful, tough, and edgy wonderful woman. I am very goods at interventions. I intervented a square pizza cutter.”

“You intervented a square pizza cutter? How does it work?” I asked.

“Use uses it for square pizza. The round pizza cutter is for the round pizza. Nobody thoughts of that before me. That’s not alls I intervented, Ray-mo,” said Little Carmen.

“Why? Ray. Why?” said La Flor.

“I’m asking myself the same question,” I said.

Little Carmen is warming up for what, I don’t have a clue. Certainly, Seinfeld isn’t coming on next. He said, “I intervented a menu use can reads upside down.”

“How so?” I asked.

“Use asks the customer if they wants the regular menu or the upside down menu. If they asks for the upside down menu, I gives them the regular menu and tells them it’s upside down.”

“Little Carmen, good idea about the Starbucks venti cups. Can you get two of them?” I asked.

“I’ll have to buy coffee first, then dump it out. Is that okay?”

As soon as he left, I turned to La Flor, “Why don’t you hold an auction for him with the alt ego girls?”

She glared at me, “And let go two-hundred five pounds of male hunkiness go? Never.”

“I don’t think you love him,” I said.

“I’m not talking love. I’m talking accessory,” La Flor responded.

“Accessory?” I asked.

“He goes perfect with whatever I’m wearing,” said La Flor smiling. She’s staring out the window watching Little Carmen jog to Starbucks.

“Ray, Ray, I just had a horrible thought,” she shrieked.

“Take it easy. I’m here for you,” I said. I immediately regretted using that line and hoped she wasn’t listening to me.

“I know you’re here. It’s LC. You sent him alone, without a guardian to Starbucks. He’s probably fighting the women off. He’ll come back disfigured. He’s doing this all for me.”

“You’re the lucky one.”

“I won’t be if they maim him. I can see it now, he’ll be outside Carmen’s Pizzeria selling slices with his left hand because they cut off his right hand for a souvenir.”

“You’re not making sense, La Flor.”

“I always make sense. Go save him.”

“Can I call the paras?”

 

 

It’s Three-Thirty Somewhere

by

“You sure you want to be a shrink?” I asked La Flor*.

“My dream job,” said La Flor.

“Dream job?”

“Sure, you sit in a circle and ask people to talk. How hard is that?” said La Flor.

“I think there’s more to it,” I said.

“Come on, Ray. My assistant already prepared questions for me. I’m good to go,” said La Flor.

“You have an assistant?” I asked not remembering if I wrote this into the script.

She pointed to her left at Little Carmen with earphones in his ears, his head bopping to the music or something. She said, “Besides writing questions for me to ask, if anybody gives me trouble, LC will take them to time out.”

“Timeout in a support group?” I asked.

“That’s only for misdemeanors.”

“Misdemeanors? You have levels of bad behavior?” I asked.

“LC’s idea. Hold on a sec,” La Flor said then walked over to Little Carmen, pulled out his earplugs. “Come with me, LC.”

“Do I gotta?”

La Flor turned toward Little Carmen, looked up at him, “Do you want to go down this road again? No bedtime story. No Pizza Battles Reality Show.”

Little Carmen shook his head and dutifully followed La Flor until they both stood in front of me.

“LC tell Ray your great idea for the group.”

Little Carmen looked puzzled, no that’s not accurate, bewildered. No, that’s not accurate. Confused. No, that’s not accurate, either. He didn’t know what the hell was going on. That’s accurate.

“What ideas?” said Little Carmen jumping first to one foot, then the other.

“Do you have to go to the bathroom?” I asked.

“Geez, how’d you know?”

“Lucky guess.”

“Oh go,” said La Flor. Little Carmen headed toward the bathroom. La Flor turned to me, “I’m so happy he’s housebroken. LC could only get five alt egos from alt ego singles bar but I wanted six so he asked Big Carmen to join.”

“Big Carmen is in your group?”

“What I just say?”

“What’s the group’s theme. Every group has a theme,” I said.

“I was thinking of colors that don’t clash with what I’m wearing. Shoes have to be stylish. Hair has to be with it.”

“That’s your theme?”

“Yes, do you want to be part of the group? I’ll make an exception and make it seven people. It will be a lot of work,” said La Flor.

“No. But, I will observe, if you don’t mind,” I answered.

“As long as you don’t interrupt, butt in, correct me, raise your hand, give disgusted looks, roll your eyes, or act bored. I know it’s a tall order, Ray. I don’t need you interfering.”

“I will sit and watch the beautiful, tough, and edgy shrink at work.”

“Don’t forget the assistant shrink, two (remember, Little Carmen’s influence on La Flor, she now uses two for too).

Two hours later.

I’m seated in a circle of six people, three women, three men. One of the men is Big Carmen. This I don’t understand. La Flor is playing with her iPhone. Little Carmen is listening to a playlist. Five of the people are staring at La Flor and Little Carmen. The sixth, Big Carmen, is working on picking winners of baseball games, horse races, and deciding what the pizza special will be tonight.

I check my iPhone. We’ve been sitting in a circle for nearly twenty minutes. La Flor is still playing with her iPhone. Little Carmen fell asleep. Big Carmen is scratching his head, his pencil behind his ear.

La Flor finally puts her iPhone into her hand bag and said, “I’m the beautiful, tough, and edgy shrink. This is my first question written by my assistant, “Why are you here? Now I know why Big Carmen is here, he doesn’t have Wi-Fi and he’s using Ray’s Wi-Fi do online gambling.”

A woman, about thirty-seven, who had work done, if you know what I mean, raises her arm and starts waving it.

La Flor looks at her and said, “Yes?” The yes was coated in ice. And, even though it’s 1020 not a drop of ice melts from the yes.

“Some blog writer wrote us into the script. I had better things to do than waste an hour here.”

This was a bad move on a couple of levels. On one level, I’m the guy who wrote these alt egos into the script even though I don’t remember doing it. I wonder if La Flor is messing with my laptop when I’m asleep. I made a mental note to change the password. On a deeper level, La Flor gives her a look only La Flor can give and it’s going to get worse.

“You know what? You ought to sue your plastic surgeon, bad job,” said La Flor.

“Thank you. You are so wise. I told my boyfriend it was a terrible job, but you know men.”

“Only two well (La Flor picked up on Little Carmen’s habit of using two instead of too). I could tell you stories about that species,” said La Flor glancing at Little Carmen off in La La Land.

A short, paunchy, balding man with suspenders to hold up his pants, said, “I think it’s unfair picking on my species.”

La Flor looked at him, she stifled a gag response when she saw he violated all of her sartorial codes. She said, “Suspenders? A paunch? Pants with an elastic waist band? Is that a piece? What is your name?” said La Flor.

“It’s Bill.”

“Don’t tell me to chill. LC will take you level one, time out.”

“What did I do?”

La Flor shook Little Carmen. Little Carmen woke up with a start, “Huh?”

“LC, glare at him,” said La Flor point at Bill.

Little Carmen shot a glare at Bill that would cause a two-year-old to crawl back into the womb.

“Good boy, here’s your Snicker’s bar.”

“Wait too or six moments, beautiful, tough and edgy shrink,” said Little Carmen again confusing two and too.

“What’s wrong, LC?”

“How woods (that’s how he said would) likes it if I treated use like a German Schlepski?”

“I don’t like Schlepskis of any kind,” said La Flor.

“Use gets what I means?” said Little Carmen.

I thought the big, tough, muscle lug was going to cry.

“I didn’t means two (there she goes again sounding like Little Carmen). Can I give you a hugs and a Snicker’s Bar?”

“Of course, use may, my beautiful, tough, and edgy, I don’t likes dis stinkin shrinking business.”

“What are these people doing here? How long have we been going, I’m exhausted,” said La Flor.

I interrupted, “Actual time, seven minutes. Real time, twenty-five minutes.”

“You broke the contract, Ray. You can’t come back next week.”

“Okay,” I said.

“I was only kidding. You can run the group next week, they bore me.”

“I don’t want to run the group.”

“Neither do I, what are we going to do with them.”

Big Carmen looked up, “I has a great idea. Little Filly just won in the seventh at Aqueduct. I won five hundred bucks. Pizza for everybody at Carmen’s Pizzeria tonight.

All the alt ego’s start applauding.

La Flor gave gaga eyes to Little Carmen, “You big lug, I need a margarita after all the stress Ray put me through.”

I pointed to my chest, “Me? I’m an innocent bystander.”

Little Carmen turned toward me, he said, “Don’t thinks nothing to it, Ray-mo. Use was just cholesterol damage.”

I wanted to correct him and say collateral, but to what end.

Little Carmen gave his main squeeze a hug and said, “I knows just the place, it’s called Margarita de Ville. It’s three-thirty somewhere (I didn’t have to heart to ruin Jimmy Buffet’s song).

* 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.

 

 

 

 

Tell Him to Grovel

by

“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

by

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

by

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

by

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

by

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.

 

 

Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

by

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.

 

 

 

 

 

How About Pizza Delivery?

by

“What is that smell, Ray!”

“Salmon. Dr. Oz said Salmon is good for my heart.”

“The smell is killing me. Do you think something that smells so bad can be good for you? Do you have a spray? A tub of baking soda? Hairspray? I’m gagging.”

“Do you have to be so dramatic, P? BTW, what does P stand for?”

“I changed it to B because B rhymes with free. That’s me, a free spirit. You can’t tie me down, Ray.”

“You are a character, not a free spirit.”

“You weren’t listening, Ray. I know it’s a challenge for your species, but at least try. B or P, and BTW, they both rhyme with free. Are you through? Toss the salmon, we’re eating out. I want to go a place where the wine is served in a real wine glass, not your typical places where they pour it in a styrofoam cup.”

“What’s wrong with eating on picnic tables? They bring the food on butcher block paper.”

“Do you want me to call Bobby Flay or is it Filet? On the QT, Ray, Dr. Oz does not eat salmon.”

“How do you know what Dr. Oz eats or doesn’t eat? Why am I interested in what Dr. Oz eats? Why do I think you know the answer?”

“Slow down Paco, one question at a time, por favor. I’ve been practicing my Spanish in case you didn’t notice. It wouldn’t hurt you to learn a second language. You’re having enough problems with your first language, may as well dump it. Pronto.”

“I know some Spanish. Here’s one for you, adios.”

“Oh cute, very cute. I don’t get paid for all the work I’m doing to help you with your blog, counsel you, act as your emotional anchor, sounding board, confidant.”

“Please, spare me. As far as going out, I’m watching my budget. How about a pizza delivery.”

“And, I have to drink the wine you use for cooking? The four ninety – five when it’s not on sale? No wonder you stay thin. You can’t stand your own cooking and you’re too cheap to eat at a good place.”

“Do you have a better suggestion?”

“Score one for you, Ray. You actually asked me my opinion.”

“It was a slip of tongue.”

“Thought as much. You’re the writer. Write off the tab. Get a free expensive bottle of wine. Write yourself a nice polished pair of shoes, no boots and jeans kind of place.”

“In case you forgot, we’re in South Texas. San Antonio. It’s cowboy country. I think I’ll wear my boots, jeans, and cowboy hat.”

“I know you try to stay in shape, but you forgot to mention a shirt. Most Texas places say, ‘No shirt no service.”

“And a shirt. Why do I find conversations with you tiring?”

“Because I’m smarter than you.”

“That hurt.”

“Truth always does, Ray. Now where we going? How about Chez Flor?”

“How about, El Taco Grande, the food truck down by the Alamo?”

Life is better when we don’t take everything too seriously; when we can enjoy good conversation with a friend, and to see the humor in the life’s mundane things.

 

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