writers

We Belong On TV

by

La Flor, who’s on again with Little Carmen, had the stray puppy follow her throughout one of San Antonio’s outdoor mecca shopping malls. Little Carmen had to enthusiastically like everything La Flor liked. He was the designated bag carrier. And, according to her set of ground rules he signed, he can’t complain. He only can flirt with her.

As for me, I found an Italian trattoria, had a very tasty leisurely lunch, and after lunch, I did this and that, which I will not divulge because La Flor reads these blogs and counts the number of times she is mentioned. If I divulge this and that, she will know this and that and I will have no getaway places. If La Flor does not have the highest name mentioned count, all hell breaks loose, the bleep hits the fan, and the familiar saying, ‘You haven’t heard the last of this’ is repeatedly repeated.

I returned home around three thirty. I walked into the living room and froze. I wasn’t ready for what I saw. La Flor and Little Carmen sat in swivel chairs, about a foot and half apart. That’s not what stopped me.

They are staring at a camera on a tripod. Operating the camera is Thompson Thomas. He’s the Dr. Phil alt ego who looks like a pencil, receding hairline, has a high-pitched voice. It wasn’t always high pitched. It started sometime after Little Carmen found out he was gaga over La Flor. Little Carmen persuaded him, after a bit of twisting and turning and his voice rising with each twist to let go of his fixation on La Flor. I found this unusual, but not out of the ordinary as far as La Flor is concerned.

I looked at La Flor, frozen in my tracks and said, “What are you doing in a sports bra and bikini bottom? Do you have a sand volleyball game in your future? And, what is Little Carmen doing bare-chested in a bathing suit next to you? He looks like a wooly mammoth.”

“Is that a good look?” asked Little Carmen.

La Flor nodded her head, and said, “We are so adorable and cute, right, Ray?”

“Remember, this is a family blog,” I said.

“We belong on TV. I have a new career and LC is going to the top with me.”

“That’s right, Ray-mo. The beautiful, tough, and edgy sportscaster said, I’m a hanger-goner.”

“Sportscaster? Hanger-goner?”

“You called Little Carmen a hanger-goner?”

“That’s right, Ray. I have high standards. He misses making one compliment to me, he’s a goner.”

“I got to agree with the beautiful, tough, and edgy sportscaster. How’d I do?”

“Perfecto, LC.”

“I gots to learn, Spanish,” said Little Carmen.

“How many TV sportscasters look as good as LC and me? Don’t answer. The answer is obvious. Zero, zero, zero,” La Flor said, making a zero with the thumb and forefinger of each hand, then looking at Little Carmen until he made the third zero.

“How is this going to happen? How will you be discovered?” I said.

“We will be discovered. TT is filming our demo. He’s going to send it to all his contacts. Dr. Phil for one. Dr. Oz for two. And, he knows Bobby Filet. He quit Dr. Phil to work exclusively with us.”

“I think it’s Bobby Flay.”

“No, it’s Filet,” she said.

“I turned to TT, “You did?”

“Uh huh. La Flor promised to set me up with one of her hot girlfriends. She only has hot girlfriends.”

“Let it go, Ray. TT you ready to record our demo?” said La Flor.

“Yes, beautiful, tough, and edgy sportscaster,” said the soprano voiced TT.

“TT not to worry about the voice, it returns to normal in a day or three,” said Little Carmen.

“Thanks, LC. Ready, three, two, one, action,” squeaked TT.

“Welcome to the world’s hottest and cutest sportscasters,” said La Flor.

“Yah, welcome. Check out how beautiful the beautiful, tough, and edgy sportscaster looks today. Can I say you looks more beautiful than you did ten minutes ago?”

La Flor does a half turn, gives Little Carmen a big smile, “You may.”

“You looks more beautiful than you did ten minutes ago.”

La Flor turns back toward the camera, “Here is breaking sports news.”

“Yes, breaking news,” said Little Carmen.

“I am going to the spa tomorrow and getting a seaweed wrap, facial, and massage.”

“That’s terrific beautiful, tough, and edgy sportscaster. Can I gives some breaking news?”

“We only have time for one quick item, LC. Make it a good one.”

“Okay. Breaking news. Tonight’s special at Carmen’s Pizzeria is a double topping of Uncle Gino’s homemade sausage. Use gets a large for eighteen ninety-five and if use says LC sent use, use gets it for five ninety-five.”

“What do you think, Ray? Awesome, right? We’ll probably be leaving here as soon as the sports networks see the demo.”

“You going to take TT with you?”

“Please take me,” squeaked TT.

Tell Me They’re Zirconium

by

I’m putting the finishing touches on my blog. I’m quite taken with my brilliance. My ability to twist facts into fiction. My complete understanding of human nature and its nuances, until . . .

“Ray! Ray! Ray!” The voice. The blaring, unceasing tonal demand. The refusal to take no for an answer. To cop a phrase, “She’s more beautiful than a runway model. She’s tougher than a tank of barracudas. She’s edgy enough to pull off any look. It’s La Flor.

“What’s up?” La Flor. I said softly and calmly. I watched a PBS special where I learned speaking softly and calmly works wonders on others.

“Whatever you’re doing, stop. Stop! Stop!” she shouted. So much for soft and quiet.

“Do you mean what am I doing now? Or, do you mean what was I doing?” I’m learning with La Flor. I want to get this right. If I don’t, we’ll carry on for four or five paragraphs.

“Tell me it’s not too late. See, I used too correctly. Please, tell me I’m not too late,” La Flor is pleading with me.

“Too late for what? Dinner? Coffee? Desert? Your favorite reality show? Give me a little help,” I said.

“If only LC were here. He would have reached you on time. I can’t run as fast as LC when I’m wearing stilettos.”

I looked at her feet, “Nice stilettos, how much they set you back?”

“Nothing, I used your card.”

“How much did it set me back?” I asked.

“Not as much as my earrings. Like them,” she said placing her palms behind her ears and pushing the lobs a bit forward.

“Tell me they’re zirconium.”

“Seriously, do you think La Flor is going to wear zirconium?”

Opps, back to speaking in the third person. What am I going to do? Get upset over it. Not a chance. I’ll report the card stolen, I thought.

“And, don’t you dare report the card stolen or lost,” she said.

What is she a mind reader?

“I’m listening to mind reading podcasts, and it seems to be working.”

I needed to change the topic, “Is this an emergency?” I asked.

“Of the first, second, and third order. Maybe the fourth, fifth and sixth orders. Maybe a takeout order,” she said.

Remember, I’m a sensitive guy. At least in my own mind. “Sit down La Flor. I’ll get you a glass of water.”

“Something stronger, por favor.”

“Diet Coke?”

“What I would give for a sensitive male,” she hollered.

“That’s me,” I said.

“Get real,” La Flor answered.

What choice did I have? I brought La Flor a glass of white wine and handed it to her. She took a sip. “Where did you buy this? What did you pay, a dollar seventy-five?”

“Hold on. It was on sale for three ninety-eight.”

She set the wine glass down, reached into her expensive leather, made in Italy, handbag, pulled out a tin of breath mints and took at least a half dozen out and chewed them as if she hadn’t tasted food for six weeks. “I’ll never lose the taste. If you ruined my wine tasting buds, I’ll, I’ll ….”

I finished her sentence, “Tell Ray about the emergency.”

Fortunately, La Flor’s attention span is a tad better than mine, that’s not saying much. She said, “Did you publish the blog?”

“As soon as we’re done I’m going to publish it.”

“I’m in time. Hold it. Keep it in draft. Save it for a slow day. Give it away.”

“Why?”

“I’m turning whistleblower,” she said.

“Whistleblower?” I am happy Little Carmen has to deliver pizzas today. I can only imagine what he would have done with the word whistleblower.

“I’m going to tear down walls. I going to bring the big shots down. I’m going to be famous. Maybe I’ll win a Pulitzer Piñata.”

I knew it was too good to last. The doorbell rang.

“Get it, Ray. It’ll be LC. I asked him to bring me an iced skinny latte while on his pizza deliveries.”

I didn’t have to answer the door. “Hey use guys, I gots your skinny, ninny, latte beautiful, tough, and edgy make me drool all over myself. BT, I can never remember the last letter. Anyways, I made this pie all by myself except for the dough, sauce, cheese, and toppings. Oh, I think it was S.”

“S? No, it’s W,” I said.

“What’s W?” a confused Little Carmen said.

“A letter. BTW, we didn’t order a pizza,” I said.

“It’s okay. It’s already paid for. The guy paid by credit card. I think use got it wrong, Ray-Mo. It’s BTS.”

“He won’t get his pizza,” I said.

“Not if he wants this one,” Little Carmen laughed.

La Flor stared at Little Carmen with a cross between a sense of awe and awful. I couldn’t quite make it out. She said, “Come over here and keep me company LC. Don’t talk while I’m talking. Did you know Ray gave me cheap wine?”

Little Carmen had a look of horror on his face, “Ray-mo. Cheap wine. You gotta nerve.”

La Flor put her forefinger to Little Carmen’s lips, “That’s enough, have a piece of pie and play with your smartphone. Ray, where was I?”

I wanted to say ‘the fourth level of insanity but didn’t. “So,” I said, “You are going to be a whistleblower.”

“Is that like those guys with the striped shirts at the football games?” said Little Carmen.

“LC!”

“Sorry, beautiful, tough, and edgy whistleblower.”

Come back tomorrow for the whistleblower’s story.

 

 

 

You Pushed My Helper Button

by

I woke up at two in the morning and wondered if it was to in the morning, or too in the morning, or two in the morning. La Flor and Little Carmen are sucking me into the vortex of misused and abused uses of two, too, and to. I couldn’t go back to sleep. I tried counting to hundred, but couldn’t get past to, or is it too, or two. At four twenty to or too or two, I decided La Flor and Little Carmen were going to attend my class to learn about two, too, and to.

The three of us sat in the living room. I thought a comfortable atmosphere might help them learn. La Flor and Little Carmen sat on the sofa. I sat on a chair off to La Flor’s right, but where we could all see each other.

“No holding hands. It won’t take long if you tw …” I caught myself and said, “both pay attention.”

Little Carmen took his hand away from La Flor and put his arm around her shoulders. She snuggled closer to him and rested her head against his shoulder.

I felt exasperated. I said, “You two separate. Little Carmen, you move to that end, and La Flor you move to the other end.”

“Ray?” asked La Flor.

“What?”

“I don’t want too correct the teacher, but you should have said, ‘You to.” And, you should have said move two the other end. Maybe I should teach this class.”

“That’s just it, La Flor you have it wrong. You’ve got your two, to, and too’s mixed up.”

Little Carmen was taking selfies and didn’t hear a word I said to La Flor. La Flor followed my eyes to Little Carmen. She said, “I want too do that to.” She reached in her handbag and pulled out her smartphone.

Little Carmen looked at her, “Text me a selfie and I’ll text use a selfie. Ray-mo, use wants too borrows my smarty phone after I text a selfie two the beautiful, tough, and edgy woman?”

Am I experiencing the life of a classroom teacher? I make a silent promise to support higher teacher salaries and an automatic entry into heaven at journey’s end.

“Break time,” I said. “I’ll get the coffee, bagels, and cream cheese.”

“Don’t forget the fruit and my Greek yogurt,” said La Flor.

“I want my Danish and donuts,” said Little Carmen.

“What about the bagels and cream cheese?” I asked.

“Is this a trick question?” asked La Flor, now laying on the sofa with her head on Little Carmen’s lap. She was scrolling through her selfies. There are thousands of them. She only has photos of herself. She deleted Little Carmen’s selfie as soon as it arrived.

“Break’s over,” I said.

“When are we gonna have recess?” said Little Carmen.

A good idea to teach about two, too, and to? No, it was not a good idea. Maybe flash cards would help. Big Bird singing a ditty about two, too, and to. A prize to anyone who passed the final exam. I should have thought of incentives.

La Flor, whose head was still on Little Carmen’s lap, lifted her eyes from her smartphone to look at Little Carmen. This is something she’d never done before. She stared into two large nostrils reminding her of a tunnel that goes through the Rocky Mountains, a two-day grunge beard, eyebrows marching toward the midway point to connect. She sat up as if she woke from a nightmare.

“Ray, send LC to the office. He’s disrupting class,” she said.

“What office?” I said.

“Use wants me to sits in use office, Ray-mo until we can talk? You’re not gonna call Big Carmen and tell on me, right?” asked Little Carmen.

“No, I’m not getting parents involved,” I said. Maybe I should under the sofa for my mind. I’m sure I lost it.

I knew La Flor needed to talk. Remember, I’m the sensitive male in this blog. Granted, my only competition is Little Carmen. I said, “Little Carmen, it is time for recess. There’s a pool hall five blocks over.”

“Geez, Ray-mo, this is better than real school. I gets to leave campus and play pool.”

After Little Carmen left, I asked La Flor, “What’s up?”

“Okay, first things first. Two is the number two. Too is used for also, very, or more than. To is a prepositional phrase and it can used as part of an infinitive. Did I pass?”

“Yes. But why did you use them incorrectly?” I asked.

“I thought I was in love with LC. I fell out of love with him again.”

“When?”

“When I looked up his nose. Did you realize how big it is? Then I saw his eyebrows. I wanted you to spray them with whatever you use to get rid of bugs, you know, PAM. I thought his eyebrows were caterpillars. When he said he wanted recess, Ray, I couldn’t take anymore.”

“It’s okay if your alt ego girlfriends get their hands on him?” I asked.

“I didn’t think of that. You confused me.”

“I did?”

“LC won’t survive. He’s vulnerable. He’s naïve. He’s too much for any of them. He’s all mine. All, I tell you. And, I’m not sharing any of him with any of them.”

“Are you back in love?” I asked.

“No. I’ll bring up a nose job at the right time. Talk about some laser work on the brows.”

“Why are you going to stay with him?” I asked.

“You pushed my helper button.”

“It was so big, I couldn’t miss it.”

“I really am a good person, Ray.”

“Mother Teresa could have used you.”

 

Repeat Everything I Say

by

“Our planning sessions are a step in the right direction, Ray. We need to do more of these. Like every day. I want fewer of your ideas in the blog, like none. And more of my ideas in the blog, like all,” said La Flor.

“What planning session? We only went out for coffee,” I said.

La Flor looks over at Little Carmen, “Isn’t he cute. Look at him dipping a biscotti into his coffee and watching the excess coffee drip off with the amazed look of a two-year-old child. He can do that for hours.”

“Hours?” I said. Then I attempted to redirect the conversation, “I thought the blog was about you,” I said then taking a sip of my cappuccino.

“Not the real me. Between you and me, there’s to much of him in it (the to instead of too deal again),” La Flor pointing her spoon at Little Carmen. Little Carmen came out of his trance. He followed the tip of the spoon apparently thought it went through him to whoever might be behind him. He turned around and stared an eighty something year old with a beautiful twentyish woman.

He turned back to La Flor, pointed his right thumb into his chest, and said, “The guy with the cute chick, but not as cute as use, giving use the willies, beautiful, tough, and edgy?”

La Flor took a sip of her chai latte then stared at Little Carmen thinking he was pointing to himself. “That is so introspective of you, LC. Would you please tell him to stay out of my conversation with Ray because it’s going to be all about me.”

“Where did you get the word introspection?”

“Either, Ellen, Oprah, or The View. It could have been on Oxygen or Lifetime. Maybe Dr. Phil or Dr. Oz. I’m not sure.” I rarely pay attention to those two when they are attempting the art of communication. Instead, I was sipping my cappuccino and thinking how nice it might be to come to this coffee shop with someone with whom I could have a nice conversation.

“Do you watch TV all day?”

“No, I tell LC to watch my shows and give me a summary. I’m two busy talking too my girlfriends (There’s that to, too, and two thing again – I’m going to have to teach them the difference. It’s driving me nuts). La Flor turned to me and said, “I’ve got this great idea and I want to tell you all about it. I’m going to make the blog a gossip column.”

She continued, “I’ve got this great idea. I’m going to make the blog an alt ego gossip column.”

“Alt ego gossip column? I don’t like gossip,” I said.

“Yah, right, Ray. I watch you reading the headlines on People, Inquirer, and all the other gossip mags at the store,” said La Flor.

“Those are legitimate news sources,” I said defensively. Then I added, “I don’t pick them up off the rack, I only read the headlines and look at the pictures on the cover.”

A slight commotion to my left, or La Flor’s right. We synchronically turned toward where Little Carmen sat, except he wasn’t sitting there. He was standing at the table behind us. He was talking to the beautiful, by any standards, alt ego woman who sat with the old guy, “Listen, babe, dis guy’s old enough to be use grandfather, grandfather. Use can do better.”

She looked at him, “You, for instance?”

“To be perfectly franklin about it, I wood (yes, he confuses wood and would) say yes, but I am taken with the beautiful, tough, and edgy one behind me.”

The old guy was fiddling with his hearing aid. He looked at the woman with him and said, “Tell him the bathroom is over there?” The old timer pointed toward the rear of the coffee shop. “They’re out of toilet paper. It’ll be better if he holds it.”

Little Carmen looked at the old guy, “I don’t has to go number to.”

The old guy yanked the hearing aid out of his ear, then wiped the excess ear wax off on his napkin. “I think I found the problem,” he said.

He looked at Little Carmen, “Can you help me put it back in my ear?”

“Do I looks like a proctologist?” Then he turned back to the woman, “Since use are now heartbroken since I am taken, I will talk two your boyfriends.”

“I do not have two boyfriends (she heard it the way he said it). He’s not my boyfriend, he’s my grandfather,” she said.

La Flor jumped in, “Don’t get any ideas about LC, sister.”

“La Flor!” I said.

“If you want to take it out on the street …” before La Flor continued, I jumped in. “Your tab is on me. I apologize for my guests.”

The old guy accidentally dropped his hearing aid in his coffee and was now trying to fish it out with a spoon.

Little Carmen was watching the action the way a third grader pays attention to a Sunday sermon. He really needs to sharpen his listening skills. He wasn’t sure if he should talk to the woman or to the old guy. He pulled out a quarter and flipped it. He said, “It’s heads.”

La Flor, the old guy, the woman, and I looked at him. Little Carmen didn’t quite know how to handle the attention, he said, “The other side is tails, but not a real tale, I’m not sure what tale or tail I should use here if use don’t mind my depression from the main topic which is I don’t wants use to take sneak peaks on my girl’s blog.”

“Whose girl are you talking about?” said La Flor.

“You go girl,” said the woman with the old guy.

“Thank you, sister,” said La Flor.

Little Carmen said, “Use, my darling.”

La Flor said, “Repeat everything I say.”

“Repeat everything I say,” replied Little Carmen.

“No, you repeat everything I say,” said La Flor a bit of an edge to her voice.

“Do I have to put the edgy on the voice like use, beautiful, tough, and edgy?”

“I am not your darling,” said La Flor.

“I am not your darling,” said Little Carmen. Then he added, “Who is your darling if I am not your darling?” Little Carmen’s eyes looked like a large dog’s sad brown eyes.

“Me,” said La Flor.

“Me?” asked Little Carmen.

“No, not you, me,” said La Flor.

“No, not you, me,” said Little Carmen believing he was still under the repeat everything I say edict.

This could go on for three pages if I didn’t intervene. I called to the waiter, “Can you bring three more biscotti’s, and three fresh coffees?

They both looked at me, “Use gonna share?” asked Little Carmen.

“I prefer a croissant with some butter and real blackberry jelly,” said La Flor.

“As I was saying, Ray. It’s all about me.”

“It is, La Flor. It is,” I agreed.

 

 

 

 

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?”

 

 

He’s a Chick Magnet

by

I’m watching my favorite Netflix series. I discipline myself not to binge watch. I want to pace it out, extend my enjoyment. Then the front door opens, I hear footsteps. Then the voice.

“Ray, I need a vacation. I’m wearing out the treadmill you’ve put me on. All I do is work, work, and work some more,” said La Flor* nudging her main squeeze Little Carmen.

“That’s right, we needs a vacation,” said Little Carmen. Then he added, “I think I gots it right beautiful, tough, and edgy.”

“Almost right. Remember how the first line went, ‘La Flor needs a vacation.’ I’ve a Snicker’s bar and a small bag of nachos if you get it right,” said La Flor.

“I gots it, “Ray-mo, remember how the first line went? How’d I do beautiful, tough, and edgy?”

“Ray, I rest my case. I’m going nuts. LC, do me a big, really big fav and run over to the Starbucks on the other side of town and get me a white iced tea?”

“What’s about the one down the street? Do I has to run?”

“Yes, run. Walking might even be better. take your time. I don’t like the one down the street,” said La Flor then kissed Little Carmen on the cheek. Which was enough to push all the right buttons. Granted Little Carmen doesn’t have too many buttons (note how I use too correctly, unlike Little Carmen and La Flor).

La Flor nearly pushed Little Carmen out the door. She hollered, “Take your time LC, look both ways when you cross the street. Have a cold whipped drinks while you’re there and then get mine to go. It’s okay if you give it to a homeless person on a street corner.”

“Use is a saint, beautiful, tough, and edgy.”

La Flor turned to me, “Help me, Ray.”

“Pick a vacation spot?” I asked.

“No. One part of me wants to dump LC. And, the other part of me wants to keep LC. I’m caught in a tug of war and it’s tearing me apart.”

I’m trying to think what a sensitive male might say in a situation like this. ‘I’m here for you.’ No, I saw a Seinfeld episode with that line. ‘I’m listening.’ No, Fraser used that line in every show. ‘Suck it up and dump him.’ That doesn’t sound like a sensitive male. If only I could Google ‘sensitive male expressions.’ I can’t, La Flor’s expecting a response.

I said, “Want to sit out on the patio and talk?” I’m thinking I did pretty good.

La Flor said, “What? And, waste my time with psychobabble?”

“Where’d you pick up that term?” I asked.

“Dr. Phil’s script writer. You know, Dr. Phil is an alt ego. He’s not real like you and me. What you’re seeing is an actor play Dr. Phil the alt ego. The real alt ego hangs out at the alt ego singles club.”

“Dr. Phil is an alt ego?” I asked.

“Do I have to repeat everything. Now, let’s get back to my problem.”

“I forgot it’s all about you.”

“You’re learning,” said La Flor not catching my sarcasm.

I got La Flor out to the patio. I brought her a soda in a chilled glass with the exact amount of ice, one-fourth of the glass. At least, that’s La Flor’s measure of the exact amount of ice. I’m being very sensitive. I sat down opposite her and said, “What is it you don’t like about Little Carmen?”

“I don’t like the way he uses the word two for too when he should be using it for the word to.”

“And, not two?” I asked.

“Exactly!” said La Flor.

Two, too, and to are too troublesome to think about for too long. I Pushed ahead, the sensitive male that I am, “What is something you like about Little Carmen?” I asked.

La Flor put her index finger up to her lips, she was faking she was thinking, but I didn’t point it out, the sensitive male that I am. She moved her lips as she counted to six. Why six? No clue. She said, “He’s, no that’s not a strong point. He’s, no that isn’t it either. I know. He’s, no that doesn’t work either. It’s something about him. He has no good points for a beautiful, tough, and edgy, go for it all girl like me. He has one thing, just one thing.”

She said, “He’s, no that’s not a strong point. He’s, no that isn’t it either. I know. He’s, no that doesn’t work either. It’s something about him. He has no good points for a beautiful, tough, and edgy, go for it all girl like me. He has only one thing, just one thing going for him.”

“What is it?” I am intrigued.

“He’s a chick magnet. I don’t want any other alt ego women to have him. He’s mine. All mine.”

“Let me see if I understand.”

“Not a chance,” said La Flor.

“Why not?”“You’re not one of the species who has the understanding gene.”

“You’re not one of the species who has the understanding gene.”

“I’ll rephrase. Let me see if I can summarize.”

“That’s better, Ray.”

I said, “There is nothing you like about Little Carmen. How am I doing?”

“So far, so good,” she said.

“He’s a chick magnet and all your alt ego girlfriends would grab him in a second and you won’t let that happen.”

“You got that straight,” said La Flor.

In the distance, getting closer was the wail of sirens.

La Flor rushed to the window. She turned to me, “Ray, it’s the paramedics. Oh no, LC must be hurt and they want me to identify his shattered remains. He must have jumped out of a window because he loved me so much. Ray, I don’t think I can take it. I hope he left a note that tells everyone how he didn’t deserve me because he didn’t.”

I looked out the window, the back of the ambulance opened, LC jumped out, one of the paramedics hands him his Starbucks carry all. The paras waved at Little Carmen as he LC jogged to the door.

I said, “He’s okay, La Flor. He got a ride in the ambulance to bring you your drink.”

“Out of my way, Ray.” Said La Flor rushing to open the door.

“Here’s your drink my beautiful, tough, and edgy you can have it all girl.”

“Put them down you big lug and hug me. Then we’ll go plan our vacation at Wineland.”

I’ll never understand those two, too, or to.

* 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.

 

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.

 

 

 

 

Good Puppy

by

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.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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.

 

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.

 

 

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