Saturday, August 30, 2008

Thunder and Lightning...

I was up all night and half of the morning practicing my favorite hobby, photographing lightning. At the risk of losing my life, I stood out there in that storm to capture and call my own these thunderous strikes. It really got my heart beating. I hope you enjoy them...

Friday, August 29, 2008

She's Got the Voodoo...

I have a friend that thinks she's got a spell on her. She thinks it's a Voodoo spell, which is really the worst kind. After doing her homework and plenty of research, she located a Voodoo witchdoctor right here in Phoenix and asked me to go along, if only for moral support. Doing my homework, I looked up this alleged doctor on the Internet and frankly the Internet barely acknowledged his existence, but refused to call his practice a Voodoo practice, but preferred to call his practice a healing practice, but did mention the removal of spells. It showed a respectable location near downtown Phoenix for his office and when I clicked on research this doctor, it showed he was evicted from that location and didn't show a more recent address. My friend had gotten a call from his secretary/wife to confirm her appointment and was able to obtain the correct address. We started driving and realized that the location we were headed to was in a very questionable part of town and as we got closer we realized it was a private office in his dilapidated home. When we pulled up to 3619 S. Harris Dr., there were at least 5 dismantled cars in what used to be his front yard and a big sign on the front door saying the "doctor was in". Below the sign was a shelf that had several shrunken heads posted and I mean posted!

Optimistically my friend said, Good he's expecting us and went trudging forward. A little more apprehensive, I felt a case of the Willies coming on and stayed back a few feet. When Hermie, my friend got even close to the front door, it opened slowly creating a creaking sound. The whole thing was getting really eery and I was all for running back to our car before it became more front yard decoration. It was hard to see inside as our eyes had not yet adjusted to the dark surroundings. I saw what appeared to be a homeless man sitting on a torn truck seat and he was passed out.........or dead. From a beaded doorway a moving vehicle came slowly over the threshold and I realized it was a motorized wheelchair. From a computerized voice came the words, Hello, I'm Dr. Sosa-Roche, do you have your copay? Hermie was too scared to move or say anything and I watched her jeans darken right around the groin area. We turned and ran out screaming at the top of our lungs and literally flew to our car, hopping in and screeching the tires out of there. We were both scared shitless and all Hermie could say was, this is the last year I carry Cigna!


Thursday, August 28, 2008

A Rather Nice Day...

It suddenly occurred to the Lovely Jules last night, that we have been involved with, interfering in, forcing our opinions on, infringing upon, altering, and otherwise annoying, one another's lives for over a year now. It's really 15 months, but since she thinks she's right, I'll concede. She told me we should celebrate our anniversary. So I'm declaring Labor Day this year as our anniversary and want to thank all of you for celebrating along with us.

With that said, the Dating Guy got an email last night from a Jewess on the dating service. She told me that she liked my looks, but feared we might not be a good match, as I say on my profile that I'm a simple man with simple needs and I'm owned by 2 Great Dane dogs. It appears she hates dogs and is the high maintenance type (oh, what a surprise?) and me being a simple man, we might not get along. I thanked her and told her that I LOVE dodging social bullets and if I were she, I'd not concentrate so much on dating, but to do something about the child in her picture's face. Medicine has made large bounding advancements in plastic surgery and there is no reason for her to let that poor little boy go around like that.

The Dating Guy,
winning friends wherever I go...

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

Aftermath of the Storm...

(Julie and Bogie 8/2007)
Last night's storm left it's mark everywhere. Leaves blown around, but mostly in the pool. This is also the season for palm trees to go to seed and that was evident by the debris in my pool basket. Even more evident were the results of last night's sleeping patterns. Somewhere around 11 PM, I opened the front door for the dogs and I to sit out there and watch the rain pour down. We were safely under the overhang allowing us a dry private viewing. After about 2 minutes, the show became monotonous and we came inside and closed the door, with absent minded me forgetting to turn off the outside front light. No biggy.

Around 3 AM, I was awakened to a whimpering that turned out to be Bogie. When I woke up, there was Bogie huddled in bed with Zoie, something he NEVER does. Bogie is an Alpha and is not a cuddler. He's affectionate, but you cannot lean on him or otherwise disrespect him in his doggy terms and he never allows Zoie too close to him. She understands this and keeps her distance. These are dog rules, he allows me to do anything with him and allowed Julie to lay next to him the very first day he met her, which literally shocked me. Usually with an Alpha you move a little more slowly. So to find Bogie in bed with Zoie last night was really a shock. I asked him if he needed to go out and he responded by getting up, but wouldn't leave the bedroom. I prompted him, but still he stayed behind. Suddenly I realized why. I had left the light on outside and as it trickled in through the crystal windows, it was represented on the tile floor in an unusual pattern. One that Bogie had never seen before and was scared to go in there. As soon as I turned off the outside light, he came along with me and went outside and did his business. How cute that this 300 LB monster was afraid of a little light show. I think that, combined with the thunder was just too much for my big boy. Zoie slept through everything.


Monday, August 25, 2008

I Suspect Fowl Play...

Today started out like any other day. I had a few things on my "must do" list. I HAD to go to the DMV and pick up the title and license plates for the car that I sold last week and I was almost out of dog food, which meant a mandatory trip to Costco. I was supposed to go to the lab and get blood drawn again today, but blew it off in view of me feeling pretty good, I figured how sick could I be? I got up about 7 and went through my overnight emails. Living in AZ and having everywhere else in the country ahead of us, I get a considerable amount of email in the mornings, if I'm to include the 1 email a month on comments about my blog and that one is usually from Julie writing as the Ghost Writer. Then I read some mandatory morning blogs and usually head to the shower.

I arrived at Motor Vehicle early enough to call my customer before 10 AM and tell her that I had her title and plates. The one thing that people want, after working hard and earning enough money to buy a new car and paying for it, is the title and plates without fail. They want that in their hands, without exception. I called young Nikkie on her cell phone and told her who I was and what I had for her. Her response was just one word, "Awesome". She told me she would be over at her lunch hour to pick them up and we confirmed it would be the noon hour. I told her I was going to try to make a run to Costco, but if I'm not going to be there by noon, I'd call her back. I decided not to go to Costco until after she picked up her stuff, as my afternoon was free. I waited and waited and waited some more. At 1 PM, I called and left her a voicemail that I was leaving and her things would be laying up against my front door for her to claim at her convenience. It was off to Costco for me, to get the much needed dog food. Because I checked, I was gone a total of 80 minutes and when I got home, there was her stuff still leaning where I placed it. I brought it in and put it on the table in my foyer. I went about my business assuming she'd come after work. She only works 5 minutes from here and certainly it wouldn't be a lot of trouble to pick it up... See what's happening here? I'm getting obsessed with it. It just doesn't make sense to me to not show up and not even call.

Next, I looked for her email address and sent her an email saying I still had her stuff, when will she be coming for it? No response and it's been 4 and a half hours since the email.

Here's the good news, I bought frozen lasagna at Costco!

Sunday, August 24, 2008

The Absent Minded Professor, A Love story...

After an afternoon of text bantering with the Lovely Jules, we decided to share a meal last night. I'd been couped up with my latest medical catastrophe and the Lovely Jules was on day 28 of some Voodoo cleanse that makes her fast indefinitely. The text dialogue went something like this. Bear in mind, our combined ages are 111, not 19:

Me: Wanna go to Tutti Santi's?


Me: How about Hispanic food?


Me: Pizza?

LJ: Yuck, you know I hate pizza...

Me: I can pick up Kentucky Fried Chicken!

LJ: With mashed potatoes and gravy?

Me: We have a winner!!! I'll be there about 8. "Click"

So, after feeding the Dynamic Duo their cookies and ice water, I threw on some clean clothes and splashed the cologne on my face that Jules bought me and headed out the door.

When I got to KFC, there was a long line outside but no one inside, DUH! Climbing out of my car and entering, a cute young girl approached me and took my order. I announced that I was there for dead chicken, she laughed. I ordered 8 pieces of regular recipe and a container of smashed potatoes and gravy.........Period! That's when the girls educational background kicked in. She had obviously been to KFC College. She said, for just a few cents more, I can have cole slaw and hot rolls. I curled up my face like a pirate and got real close to her and said, I don't want no stinking rolls, see? She backed away a little scared but a little entertained. I did offer to buy one of her chocolate chip cakes though. Either way, she managed to get my entire $20 bill and went on to KFC graduate school! I left. She threw in the stinking rolls too!

The ride West on the 101 went rather quickly and I arrived at the Lovely Jules humble abode at about 7:30 and used my key to enter, but wait, what was this? The dead bolt was on and she wasn't answering it. I tried calling her and still nothing. There I stood with Pawpaw barking his head off and no one is answering the door.............and I've got chicken to keep warm! Panic struck and this is not the first time things went this way with the Absent Minded Professor, Julie. She puts on her headphones and just blanks out. She's probably okay, but I still don't want to drive all of the way home...

I even tried to break down the door a little. If that dead bolt was a little weaker, it wouldn't have been my fault, but no, it held just fine.. Putting down my bags of food and leaving them in the doorway, I went around to the gate and saw it was locked with a real lock, so penetration was to be elsewhere. Then I thought, what about hopping over the fence. I'd done it a million times when I was a kid. I wonder if I can still make it. The gate part was a good 7 feet tall and I didn't expect myself to be able to clear that without something to stand on first. I headed back to the front door and thought about using a pot, but it was full of potting soil. Then I saw a patio chair sitting there looking rather inviting. I took it and placed it by the fence. and suddenly my age again popped into my mind and then that time I was laid open by a surgeons saw. Hey, screw it, I can still do it. With one mighty push, I boosted myself up on my hands and pulled my legs over to the interior side of the yard. All I had to do now was clear the jump down... Whoa!! That was higher than I'd planned. I took a quick inventory and no broken bones. Hey, at my age, I could break a hip!

There stood Paw paw laughing at me, as if to say, what took you so long? I walked along to the patio doors and they were opened. I entered and sitting on the sofa, in the dark, with headphones on her head and writing away in her laptop was the "Lovely Jules". I sat down on the sofa next to her and I think about 3 seconds went by before she even noticed me and jumped, startled... Hi, she said. It's early, you said 8 o'clock... I was gasping too hard for air to answer right away, but eventually mouthed the words, "dead bolt"... She was noticeably shaken because she got caught smoking in the house..........again!

We ate chicken and mashed potatoes with gravy and stinking rolls. Julie ate pretty good and staid off the Voodoos for another day. We watched a silly movie on TV and at some point I recall getting down on one knee and proposing marriage to the Lovely Jules. With a big grin on her face, she got up and said a resounding, yes! The nuptials will be performed in about 6 years, as soon as her alimony runs out... At that point, I will be known as the "The Lovely Mel"! (I never even got to taste that cake)!

The Engaged Guy

Thursday, August 21, 2008


It was a sunny day, here in the valley of the sun, sometime in the early 1980's. I was going to have lunch with "Little Dave" from Esquire Motors, our landlord, so to speak. Dave was about 5' 2" tall. Dave was a guy that rented an old car lot on 21st Street and Indian School Road.. Dave was tired of the car business and wanted to sublet. We went to lunch that sunny day in the early 1980's. We decided to go to a place that specialized in Albacore Tuna Sandwiches on delicious home baked rolls. I think it was called the Sun Flower.

Typically, you would order your sandwich, go to the cooler to choose your healthy fruit drink and wait for them to call your name. After ordering the sandwich, the young girl asked my first name for reference. I replied, It's Mel and we waited. About 5 minutes later, we heard them calling out over the loud speaker, Smel! Albacore Tuna on whole wheat for Smel!!! I casually walked up and took the sandwich and explained very simply, It's Mel. That caused a roar of laughter from the waiting patronage and Little Dave never let me forget it, repeating the story to everyone he knew. Soon people that I hadn't seen for months would call after me, Smel.....

I was able to pay "Little Dave" back one day when a vagabond truck selling it's product parked across from the car lot and put up a sign that ran about 30 feet. It ran from one light post to the next and it read, SHRIMP..... $5.99 LB.

I called Little Dave and told him to get right down here, there are people here that are looking for him!

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Where Vampires Gather...

As the years go by, certain things change in my life. One of the things that is noticeably changing are the places I go. I used to go to clubs, disco, parties and such. Now I find myself getting pretty well known and on a first name basis at labs that draw blood, doctor's offices and an occasional emergency room. This is a story about a place I "hang" at, named Lab Corp.

I never appreciated Cigna Insurance until I had Mercy Healthcare. Mercy is subsidized by the state for the financially incapable along with independent business owners that can't obtain insurance elsewhere (that's me). We independent business owners are grouped with the homeless, indigent, and unemployed for our social pleasure. Lab Corp, unfortunately accepts both the previously mentioned group along with me. Understand, I don't feel that I am better than anyone, however I like to choose who I rub elbows with in confined areas. Lab Corp does not give me that option.

Today I got an early morning phone call from Dr. Z telling me that my Creatinine level was well into the danger zone and he preferred I go to the ER and declare myself in renal failure. Knowing my kidneys better than anyone, I preferred the option of going to Lab Corp, the second day in a row to endure the indescretions of both their staff and the patrons. After a completely sleepless night, I was aroused by the Lovely Jules to get a recap of the previous night, AFTER I puked my guts out. We didn't talk too long after she mentioned something about a BM. BM stands for "Beautiful Man".

Right after that the doctor called and started me thinking about foregoing my nap and heading on out. I'm sad to say that the reason I was up all night was because Bogie, my pup was pretty ill. It was 12:30 before I tried the locked door at Lab Corp. Did you ever watch someone that tries a door ands they know it should open, yet it doesn't? Well, in disbelief, you try it over and over again, thinking it has to be stuck. After observing the dead bolt through the door jamb, I accepted it was locked and that they were probably just being robbed. Just then, the next door opened and out walked the elderly, dumb as a rock lady that works there and always flirts with me. I stopped her and she acted like she was inches away from a clean getaway. I asked he why the door was locked and she was leaving. She said they take off now, from 12:30 to 1:30 for lunch. I complained that there is no sign indicating that. She told me that they won't permit them to post the hours............Huh??? I asked her if she could go back in with me and just draw my blood. Her answer was that she already punched out. I WAS going to offer to do the same to her, but thought better of it. After she told me that they'd be right back in one hour, I felt so much better. It was sunny and bright and 110 degrees. Grumbling something about her heritage, I walked back to my car.

My next plan was to be first in line at 1:30, so I drove home, yelling obscenities to all other drivers, went into the house, checked on poor Bogie and yelled things at Zoie. I watched the clock like a hawk. The trick is to beat the system. At 1:23 I exited, hopped into my fastest car, got into a car that would start after that and sped to Lab Corp for the second time in 1 hour. As I got closer, I picked up my pace, not wanting anyone to be there ahead of me. Oh, how naive I am. As I got closer, I noticed the front door was open, a good sign that I won't have to wait outside in the heat. As I took the last turn, I could see why the front door was open. It was to make room for the 20 some people that were in line just to check in! I blew out an audible "Oh F*ck" and left again.

Once again I drove home, screaming louder than my radio. I contemplated going to an emergency room and checked my insurance card. It was the $300 ER fee that stopped me. I pay $650 a month for health insurance and that's if I don't use it! This time I waited until 2:45, realizing there is no beating the system, to just relax and enjoy the show. When I got there, typically the joint was packed. In spite of the fact that I was there yesterday and twice today, the girl insists on asking me if I've ever been seen there before. You can imagine what I'm tempted to tell her. I take a seat and the elderly lady that flirts with me every time I go there, winks. That's when the show began.

Although it was pretty crowded and it really didn't smell to well, I was lucky enough to get a card table chair to sit in. That's when the couple a few people over from my started getting impatient. I'd say they were in their late 50's and were sharing a pair of reading glasses, but not lovingly. He was looking something up in the Yellow Pages and when he'd point to whatever it was he wanted her to see, she'd just grab the glasses and he'd try to stop her. Then the pair of them asked to use the office phone, but were initially turned down by my flirty lady. After explaining in detail that this was a business phone, they were given the telephone. Now picture this guy wearing wearing a clean white t-Shirt and filthy no brand jeans. The wife is on the phone after being on hold forever, she's making noises like she's frustrated. The husband grabs the phone and the glasses and starts a rant into the phone that will probably cause the recipient to quit her job. It went something like this. "You ,mean to tell me that I drive 100 miles in a state that is all f*cking desert, some asshole crashes into us and the stinking cops give me the ticket, cuz he don't don't even understand English and you tell me my appointment is for tomorrow? This poor slob got a bigger laugh from the innocent audience in that waiting room, than any stand up comedian I've ever seen. He got a standing ovation from the ones of us that could stand and he never had a clue why were all laughing... The best part was when he was walking over the threshold to leave, he tripped and his community glasses fell off one ear only and he never even corrected them.

Suddenly, my day seemed pretty much okay! By the way, my Creatinine level dropped to 3 and Dr. Z was noticeably elated...

Blowing Chunks...

It was around 1961 and if we weren't out rolling bums, or going on a tour of the city morgue, you'd usually find us hanging out around the Howard L, looking for a perspective drunk to buy us beer. That's how the Dantes, a social, athletic club spent most weekends in the Village of Skokie, Illinos. Honestly, I had only heard the other guys talk about rolling bums and touring the morgue, but I was right there approaching drunks to buy us beer. In 1961, for $2 you could own most of them. We'd wait around the corner and when our drunk would approach us, we knew he'd have the goods. Although we specialized in beer, we were known to partake of Colt 45 Malt Liquor too.

We'd drink ourselves silly and somewhere around midnight one fine evening, I recall "heaving" in a doorway. That was when I decided I not only wasn't fond of vomiting, but rather loathed it. I decided to make that my last chunk blowing session and with the help of God, I was pretty successful.

Roll forward the calender and it's 1992, 31 years later and I've still not puked a bit. We were getting ready to move into this house, my son Brad and I. I had bought chicken parts and broccoli and prepared it in a pineapple sauce that I was pretty proud of. We ate, relaxed and went to bed that night. Somewhere around 3 AM, I awakened and didn't really know what was wrong. I sat up in bed and literally didn't know if I should shit or go blind! I ran to the bathroom and heaved up my entire dinner and on the other side of the bathroom wall, I could hear Brad up doing precisely the same thing. Needless to say, that was the last time I made chicken and broccoli in a pineapple sauce!

Shoot ahead to 1998 and we had gone to dinner at the beloved Tutti Santi's, my wife and I. I don't recall what I had ordered, but I was at my office selling a Volvo and the people were just leaving with their new car and I got that queasy feeling. I remember making it home, but not too long after that, I ran to the bathroom and literally exploded in there from my mouth. I wasn't too pleased because it was a mere 6 years from the last time.

I would never say that the Lovely Jules turns my stomach, it's just not true. The fact does remain that I walked into her house last night, looked her right in the eye and disclosed my plan to throw up. With no further adieu, I pushed past her, yelled my intentions and ran for her bathroom. I'd say I spent about 5 minutes in there before feeling confident enough to leave the security of it's confines.

When I exited, Julie was the perfect nurse. She handed me a cold bottle of water, 2 Excedrin and she insisted I lay down while she fussed over me and scratched my back. I'd do it all over again just for the back scratching! I guess I got home around 12 midnight and was literally up all night with insomnia.

Dr. Z called early this morning and announced to me that my Creatinine level is at a whopping 4.5 and wanted me to go to the emergency room of the hospital. I assured him that I was flowing again, that my kidneys are once again working at normal volume and he agreed to let me just go and get blood drawn again.

I called Julie to tell her it wasn't she that made me puke, but the Creatinine levels. I'm still not sure she believes me, but she did offer me a kidney! Wait until one night when she falls asleep, heh, heh, heh....


Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Post Removed from Jules' Blog...

The following is a post that was removed at the last minute due to public ridicule. It is now posted under "comments". It was posted to the blog of the Lovely Jules, "Chronic Diahrria". Thanks to Google Reader and the "cut and paste" I reproduce it here for you today..

This is an example of what can happen if you Drink and Love!

The All Knowing Mel...


from Chronic Diahrrea by Jules
I was not going to write here tonight because I have shared way to much lately and the mystery of me is fading fast. But I just have to say one more thingto say before I shut up. I absolutely love you Mel. You are right when you are right and I can even tolerate you when you are wrong, which is most of the time.
Mel has the ability to summarize all of my bullshit and circumstance in to gutter level logic. This man has a keen sense of rational for everyone but himself. Our conversation tonight was the highlight moment of my day. He asked about BM and I kinda, sorta told him what was happening there. With which he erupted into screaming indignation for that fact that "HE IS JUST NOT GOOD FOR YOU" and how dare I be so swept away by BM's BS? Right again. The conversation went from there to the fact that I am on a self destructive path and am I into my PMS mode yet? Yes and yes. Fuck you Mel for being so deep in my head. But when all is said and done, he is without a doubt the wisest man I have ever known. He is charmingly vulnerable, posses a certain wisdom beyond formal education that I envy, has a genuine sense of humor that rivals the best comedian, and shows his love right out loud. So I keep gravitating back to him because I love his brain, his humor, his compassion and his ability to be completely himself with me. That, in and of itself :) is the rarest of gifts that one person can offer to another. So in essence, he seems to be my greatest teacher. You know you have my heart Fisher. You're the only man I would give a kidney to and not think twice about it. And with that said......... All my love. Jules

Monday, August 18, 2008

Forbidden Fruit...

Dr. Zaharia returned my call last night. The only call I accepted. It's funny, but when you're too sick to talk on the phone, everyone wants to speak with you. I dodged calls from misc solicitors, potential dates, Julie and Randi. The shooting pain in my stomach is relentless, along with some symptoms to go along with it that are unmentionable. According to Dr. Z. I've ingested a contaminated apple. I never bother to wash them off before eating them, something that I will do religiously in the future. We get our apples from Mexico and God only know what they use to fertilize with. I asked what he means by a contaminated apple and he said it's possible that I ingested e-coli. In addition, the contamination has stopped my kidneys flat and I fear that they won't start again. Naturally, no knowing better, I stopped all of the meds that would have helped and increase things that I thought would help my situation, but of course I was wrong. Z seems to have me on the right path now. I asked how long this discomfort would last and he didn't have an answer. I'm just glad to have him in my life, as my only alternative would be the dreaded Emergency Room, where they remove organs and ask question later. Urgh!

Sunday, August 17, 2008

No More Stinking Apples!

Half way into day 3 of this certain death. Apples have always been my friend until Friday night when I haphazardly bit into one that kind of surprised me. Although it looked fine on the outside, it's area just below the skin was somewhat dark in color and didn't have that sweet apple taste. I'm a fan of the sweet Delicious variety. With apples probably costing more now than an other time in history, I wanted to give this apple every chance to prove it's quality to me. I tried not looking at it while I munched away. About 2/3 though the succulent prize, I realized it wasn't quite as good as it's brothers had tasted in the past and I made it a point to toss the remainder in the trash. In the past, I've used apples as a delicious treat as well as natures own laxative. Sorry, but it's the truth. This particular apple had "beware" written all over it and I somehow didn't heed it's warning.

I ate said apple about 30 minutes before retiring for the night, but the apple had a much different night planned for me. My plan was to sleep gently while dreaming of a parade of flowers dancing like sugar plums across my view. I don't even know what sugar plums ARE! The apple had plans of me running from about one hour's sleep to the restroom screaming "OHHHHH" all of the way there. Then, it had plans of me spending the rest of the night doubled over sitting on the thrown that Home Depot was once so proud of. Man, I started to HATE that apple! The following is a list of the damage the apple has done so far.
Keep in mind I'm NOT a doctor, but this is what is apparent to me.
1. Pancreas and pancreatic enzymes are reduced to mere puddles.
2. Heart operating at 39% efficiency.
3. Both kidneys and my liver have ceased working at all.
4. Upper and lower intestines, as well as my stomach have had large amounts of broken shards of glass deposited in them.
5. Blood pressure is 63/25 with a pulse of 8. (just an estimate, I haven't really taken it)

Some of my symptoms are:
1. Dizziness.
2. Light-headedness (or is that just one?)
3. When I lift food to my mouth, my mouth starts to water in a very unhealthy way.
4. Crave apple trees to chop down and ignite.
5. Loud and obnoxious sounds emitted from my personal exhaust system (TMI?)

If this is too much information or if you have any suggestions for my recovery, please comment as the people that I usually depend upon have sensed my early demise and have abandoned me.



Thursday, August 14, 2008


Today was a very trying day. What a let down after a perfect day like yesterday. I was expecting Nikkie, the young lady that is buying my 99 VW Cabrio to drop by at noon, particularly after she called last night to confirm that I'd be here. At 12 noon, I was ready and waiting and had even informed the Dynamic Duo that the young lady that they liked so much the day before, was indeed giving us another visit. (I didn't mention to them about her dropping off money, I didn't think it was any of their business). So, there I sat, watching the news and watching the front window even more intensely than the news. The previous day, she rang the bell at 12:10 after a 10 minute ride from her office. I watched it become 12:10, then 12:15 and finally 12:20. That's when I dialed her number and got her voicemail. I very politely asked her if I should still continue to wait for her or did she change her plans? At 12:30 I declared her a "no show" and went outside to pull some weeds from the front yard. That's when my cell phone indicated a text message. It was from Nikkie. It said that she got tied up at the office, was running about 45 minutes late and she can't reach me by phone, there is a message saying "no service". I called her back and she explained her problem and assured me she'd be over in 20 minutes. What a relief! Five different times I've called Alltel to tell them I have no service and 5 different times they told me it's fixed. I spent about 4 hours on hold and I'm probably not exaggerating. Today was no exception, only today, I wasn't allowing any of their regular help to assist me. I asked for management. They insist on knowing why and I insist on management. After all, when they abuse me and lie to me, I at the very least want those lies from someone of higher rank! After a 7 or 8 minute wait, A very nice lady named Linda answered and even her tone told me that she has been advised that there is an irate customer waiting for her. She was sooooo friendly, I could have blown chunks! I started with my cell phone number and then the last 4 of my social. Then my name and I followed with that I was a 12 year customer and I was the one that DID pay the bill every month on time! Then she made the error of asking me what the problem could possibly be. I then told her that I have been without service 5 different times this month and today in the sixth time. Today it almost cost me a sale. I use my phone for telephone calls. Not for pictures or movies or the Internet. Not for the voicemail or the caller ID or the text messages that you so flagrantly charge me for every time I'm without service. I use it for phone calls and for that it is useless. I was really into a great rant. I was laying on her all of the grief that a certain lady lays on me on a regular basis and her name starts with Lovely, but I'll not disclose her name. Just then, there was someone knocking on my door and it was Nikkie, my customer. I told Linda that I had to hang up and to please call me back. As is typical with Alltel, no response and no call back. I hung up. I saved my sale in spite of Alltel and changed my service to Cricket. I chose Cricket because there is no contract and when or if they screw up, all I have to do is throw away the phone and go elsewhere. Nikkie brought me the deposit I had been waiting for and I took the car to emissions. It passed with flying colors and tomorrow Nikkie is picking up her new car. She told me that she's taking her 5 year old son up North for a picnic. She's even going to put the top down!

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Good Day!

Like I tell my friend Barry all of the time, patience is a virtue. If you wait, you will receive. It's true. Last night I went on a date with a woman named Mara and she couldn't have been nicer. She looked just like her picture from the dating service, had the personality that God gave her and was a pleasant companion all evening. We had absolutely no chemistry though and although I gave it some serious thought, you just can't go forward when you're just not feeling it. About half way through my date, that was just for a coke and a glass of wine, Julie called and asked what I was doing. I told her I was on a date and only answered because I was a little worried about her, since she told me she was going out with serial murderer, that was not only schizophrenic, but was wanted in 7 states for sniffing little kid's bicycle seats. Although she assured me that she would be alright, I still had my concerns. A few other people that thought it wasn't such a good idea was her daughter, her cyber friend Cindi and the entire Philharmonic Orchestra, along with the Navy and 2/3 of the Democrats.. I wasn't alone. She called to tell me that she gave it some thought and decided to just spend a quiet night at home.

I finished with my poorly matched date at about 8:15 and called the Lovely Jules to see if she wanted company. She seemingly had had a rough day and encouraged me to drive the 101 West to her domain. Her mother has been stricken ill and needed someone to talk to. I got there about 8:45 and we chatted for about 90 minutes when she declared it bedtime. I stretched and yawned and started down the hall towards the bedroom, when the Lovely Jules reminded me that I live 17 miles East and I'd best start that journey home. I smiled, gave her an "Oh Yeah" and headed out.

I think it was about 11 PM when I got home and the Dynamic Duo were pissed!!! They were already in bed and wouldn't even stir when they heard the familiar noise the garage door makes. Since nobody was talking to me, I went to bed, but just laid there for about 3 or 4 hours drifting in and out of sleep. Finally around 4 AM I got up, took a Benedryl and 2 aspirins and sleep finally came. Here comes the cool part.

About 9:15 I was still doing my best to sleep, when the phone rang. How rude! I picked it up, saw it was an out of state call from Texas, so naturally I didn't answer. The only person I know that is from Texas is that asshole George W. Bush and I sure as hell wouldn't want to talk to him. The answering machine was good enough for the world's worst all time president. The message started and it was a woman going on and on and I surely believed it was a carpet cleaning service that has branched out and was willing to do air vents included in their low, low price. I finally arose at about 9:45 after my sleep had been virtually ruined. Gotta love this schedule, aye?

To my surprise and delight, it was a young lady that had seen my ad for the red VW Cabrio convertible and she was close by and wanted to see it at noon. It was about 10 AM when we spoke, I swallowed my cup of coffee, ran out the door to the patio where the VW lives and tried to start the car. Even new batteries will go dead just sitting and that's exactly what I had let the VW convertible do. I ran for the battery charger, hookered it up, plugged it in and screeched into the shower while it charged. I showered, shaved, blew dry my hair and was out of there in about 10 minutes, just enough time to charge a VW battery. It fired up like the champ I knew it would and it was time to wash the car. It rained here in Scottsdale this morning and I'll bet I was the only guy in captivity that was washing a car in the rain. All I head to do now was to move the 3 cars that were parked in my way in the side drive. I parked one in the driveway and 2 in the street, when the boy-toy from 2 doors down wanted to know my plan. I blew him off and ran back to slowly drive the VW out into the front driveway, so it looked like I had just pulled it out of the garage where it was peacefully sleeping and returned into the house to notify the Dynamic Duo that we were having company.

Enter 25 year old Nikkie, a single mother that was as cute as a button. She and the bright red VW started a love affair that will probably last for many years to come. She bought it and they will start their honeymoon on Friday when her mother wires the money here.

With Nikkie gone, it was time to undo all of my efforts. I moved all of the cars back into their secret hiding places behind the brick wall and no one is the wiser. I'll see Nikkie tomorrow at noon to drop off a cash deposit.

Now it's time to read my many emails and to my delight there is an email from Betsy, an adorable lady I met online that lives near by and seems pretty interested since she offered me her phone number. I told her I'd call her about 9 PM tonight and I'm about 30 minutes late, so I have to run. For your approval, her picture is posted at the top of this post.

The Dating Guy
8/13/08 (A pretty good day, huh?)

Monday, August 11, 2008

Climbing Back Up on that Horse...

Mara (short for Marlilyn)
With my last girlfriend gone, I once again pick myself up and brush myself off and try this dating thing once again. Just in case any of you are following along, MJ and I tried our best to gel, but ultimately were not a good match, so forward is the only direction left to go...

Enter Mara. Mara is a lady that I had been speaking with when MJ and I started dating and I let her know that I was once again a member of the single available crowd. This happened at an opportune time, as she just returned from vacation back east. We chatted on the phone for about an hour and she seems to have a great personality, plus we both share the same religion that we both simultaneously ignore. Mara claims to be 53, but God only knows what to expect. When you get to my age, age is just an imaginary number that you try to avoid at any cost. When I asked Mara if she's had any work done, she replied that she had just had her kitchen floor washed, but that was about it. So far, so good!

Our date is for tomorrow night, I'll try to keep you posted.

The Dating Guy

Sunday, August 10, 2008

Once Upon a Time...

In 1970, I was 24 years old and for some odd reason, on my way to success, I thought it was necessary to open a discount boutique. A discount boutique that would cater to the needs of the community for cheap jeans for their children. Out of the ashes arose, "Up Your Legs", Palatine Illinois' only $5.99 jean store. All pants and jeans, $5.99. In addition to the giant discount on name brand jeans, I offered a free Whopper and a coke, included in that price, as per the Burger King next door. The place was a big success. Please read on as I exaggerate and embellish. On Saturday mornings, I'd open at 10 AM and herds of teenagers would mob the front door waiting to get in. (Actually, twin girls and one looked a little "off" were really waiting along with their overweight Mom, interested in a free Whopper).

One Saturday, at the height of business, an overweight girl about 16 took a few pair of Jeans into a dressing room. She obviously thought we were all born yesterday and she wouldn't attract any attention. When a customer back then, particularly a 16 year old, entered the store wearing a Moomoo. We were on "rip off" alert. We'd watch her like a hawk and every employee was tuned into exactly how many items she had taken off the rack. Another guy and myself built the store from a chicken restaurant and we assembled the dressing rooms. In an effort to keep down costs and allow us a few detective abilities, we used curtains instead of doors and could watch the legs of the customers. All of the employees, along with myself were assembled outside of the dressing room and watched the Moomoo lift up and a pair of jeans go on. This was the time when a customer would exit the dressing room to look into our full length mirror, just outside. Instead, we all watched this potential shop-lifting genius, put on a second pair of jeans and start hopping on one foot. Her attempt became a true disaster when she lost her balance and fell out onto the floor just outside of her dressing room, in the same position that she was in while hopping, only now she was topless, with one foot stuck in the wrong place in her second pair of jeans, in front of everyone! I don't recall her explanation, but we were all laughing so hard that we didn't call the police or her parents, but thanked her for the entertainment and threw her out, telling her to never return. You just can't make shit like that up!


Thursday, August 7, 2008

Young and Dumb...

A large part of my writing, that isn't quite a year old yet, has to do with daily experiences, the Lovely Jules, the discovery of MJ and various things that enter the path of my life. Sometimes I write about stories of the past, as this one is about to unfold. It was right at 40 years ago today that I stood in front of a judge, who was wearing a robe upon an alter and a little girl stood next to me. We looked at each other, said "I do" and started what many thought to be a rebellious life together. We spawned 2 sons and lived together for 11 years, when I realized life was just to short to be as unhappy as we were and set out to change it. Sometimes the end of the story is important to be told before the beginning. This is one of those times...
It was the weekend of July 4th, 1968 and I walked into the Hidden Cove Lounge, a bar owned by a friend of mine. His girlfriend, Carol had a friend that my friend had been trying to fix me up with, but having been on a blind date in the past, I wasn't too enthused. That night, I was abruptly introduced to Barbara Ellen, the girlfriend mentioned. She was HOT! She was short, about 5' 2" and as lovely as a 23 year old girl could be. She was feminine in all of the right places and if she looked down, her chin would hit her bust line. She was pretty, perky and extremely pleasant to my racing hormones. I wanted this one! We sat and got to know one another, while I pumped scotch and soda into her, my secret weapon of 1968. I think she was on her 4th scotch when my roommate Dick Mills walked in, in uniform, he was a Chicago cop. He looked at her, she looked at him and an exchange by two old friends took place. I'd say it took about 15 seconds before they were embracing. As I mumbled under my breath, Dick asked me to shove over one, so he could sit between Barbara and I. About 20 minutes into their conversation, they realized that Barb's sister married Wayne, Dicks old buddy and lived upstairs from Barb, who lived with her parents, because that's who nice girls lived with back then. Last call was announced and my good old friend offered Barb a ride home, so he could say hello to Wayne, in spite of the hour. Don't forget, it was 1968 and we were in our early twenties, a lethal combination. As the couple walked out, excitedly on their quest to make the Wayne connection, the tab was placed in front of me and once again I was observed mumbling under my breath. The following day and I think it was about 3 PM, the phone rang at work and it was a private call for me. Surprised that someone was calling me at work, I timidly put the receiver up to my face and said hello. That's how we did it in 1968. At the other end of the phone was Barbara and she was apologizing for her behavior the night previous and wanted to know if I wanted to get together that night. Boy, did I? It turned out that she and another of my friends had danced together on Chicago Bandstand and my roommate was merely a friend. I picked up Barb where she worked and we went directly out from there. We went to Butch McGuires and had some drinks, it was scotch and soda, I think. Butch's was a pretty famous place, it was where the movie, "About Last Night" was filmed. From there we went to my apartment and talked for a long time. We were really enjoying each other's company and the time was getting away from us. I looked at my watch and was shocked to see that it was about 2:30 in the morning already. We climbed into my black 1967 Bonneville convertible with the red leather interior and the 8 track player and took the 20 minute ride to Barb's home. She lived on a busy street and as we pulled up, sitting on the front step, between two dogs, a Saint Bernard named Boozer and a boxer named Cha Cha was her father named Harvey. Harvey was short and fat with jowls hanging and looked like a bulldog. I recall having that mental image as I walked around the back of the car after barely hearing Barbara say a faint, "Oh shit"! Short fat Harvey was not accepting my friendly nod, but instead was lifting his broad ass off the stoop and mumbling something as he approached me. It sounded like he said, "You sideburned mother-fucker", but was wondering what he really said, because I'd never met the gentleman before. As I saw stars from the first sucker punch to the face, I realized he must think I'm someone else. Someone that he likes to punch! When my head cleared, Barbara was crying and pulling on her father's sleeve as he tried to inflict more punishment on my totally surprised greeting. He was coming at me like a tornado, with arms flailing and kicks doing their damage on my best pair of bright royal blue sharkskin slacks, because it was 1968. I didn't want to hit him back as he was the father of a girl that I was soon to marry and I thought that might just ruin our relationship, my future father-in-law and mine's. Next I got to meet Wayne, my roommates friend. He came running outside wearing a robe and waving a 38 Police Special saying that if I knew what was good for me, I'd get into my pimp-mobile and get the hell out out of there. I replied, while my future father-in law plummeted me with more punched to the face, "That's what I'm trying to do"!!! With my torn and tattered clothes, I climbed into my car and went to the nearest phone booth, because that's how you called people in 1968. I dialed her home number and a gentleman answered the phone a little out of breath, but otherwise relaxed. I explained that I was the guy that he just attacked and although I don't understand why, I wanted him to know that I liked his daughter and wanted to see her again. His reply almost knocked me off my feet........again! He said he thought I was a nice young man and I'd always be welcome there... I think it was about 8 hours later, that Barb told me of her father's drinking problem. Encounters like that were pretty common after a while, but at least I decided to defend myself, inflicting some pretty serious attacks of my own. On one occasion I'm proud to say, I broke the old bastards leg. I recall running down the street for my getaway after Harvey would scream, Mary, get my gun"! About a few weeks after the first beating, Barbara and I decided to get married and she suggested I ask her father for her hand in marriage. I thought better of doing something else. I suggested we just go downtown and do whatever people do when they elope. I recall it like it was yesterday. Barbara came to my house, together we drove to downtown Chicago and had trouble finding a place to park. We already had our license, had taken our blood test and it was a matter of getting the judge to do the quick ceremony. When it was our turn, we approached the bench where this old man sat wearing a black robe and he said, Marilyn Fisher, do you take Barbara Ellen to be your wife, then there was a short pause as the honorable judge had just recited two female names. Looking again, he said, make that Melvyn. After dignity resumed, he finished the 10 second ceremony and declared us husband and wife. I kissed the bride, looked down and saw that I was so nervous that I had forgotten to wipe the caked on polish off of my shoes. We went out to a Jewish Delicatessen for corned beef sandwiches and chocolate phosphates, then to my apartment to seal the deal... I took Barbara home that night, as she had a 12 midnight curfew and eventually, 4 months later, we had a big wedding at a downtown Chicago hotel with about 200 people attending. We never told her family that we had eloped back on 8/7/68, ..................Would you?

The Dating Guy

The Dating Guy Encounters Amnesia!

After awakening at about 6 AM, I sat around drinking coffee and talking on the phone until about 10:30, then planned my day for the duration. I had an appointment with my cardiologist at 11:30 AM, but wasn't called in until 12:30. I concluded that his 5 PM appointment would be seen at 7. The news was good. The pain I had been experiencing in my chest was muscle related and not angina. I asked how much damage was done to my heart from the renegade Indian that stabbed me and Dr. Loli replied, minimal. The heart (brought to you by God) is an amazing organ. I actually saw on an angioplasty once where a blocked vein had bypassed the blockage and built a canal around it to continue satisfying my needs. I was damned proud! Then I asked if I had any limitations and Loli said, no. He asked me to lift my shirt and said he was sending me to cardiac rehab and frankly, I'm looking forward to it.

After my appointment, I was needed to put out a fire left over from work. I headed down to the "lot" where I sat and waited while the party that had the fire just ignored my effort, so I left and went home. By this time it was time to feed the Dynamic Duo, who were pretty happy to see me. Oh yeah, that's why I have dogs! As I settled into my position on the sofa, my phone began to ring, bringing in calls form people that evidently care about me, wanting to know what the doctor said. Surprisingly, I even got an email from my first wife Barbara, asking what the doctor concluded, how shocking?

MJ called and reported that she was going out to eat with the girls and did I want to visit for awhile when she got home? I did! She harped away at me, telling me the equivalent of "I told you so" at the cardiologist's report. After a leisurely evening, doing a little cleaning up after the Dynamic Duo, I called MJ as she was calling me. We laughed and said to get my butt over there. I slipped into my tight white shorts that the girls seem to love, a Hawaiian shirt and drove the long path to MJ's.

Less than 30 minutes later, I was knocking on the knockers at MJ's... She answered the door wearing just a little shorty robe! I was taken aback! I commented that she looked as though she were ready for bed already. She winked and said, she was... With my mouth agape, I followed her to her to the rear of the house and that's when it happened, I passed out! I MUST have passed out, because from that point on, I don't remember a thing....

The Dating Guy

Sunday, August 3, 2008

A Three Ring Circus for Seniors...

I arrived at MJ's at about 6:45 after a quick stop at my favorite florist for a dozen roses. After all, this was to be an eventful night. Our plans were to go to dinner at an upscale Scottsdale restaurant and then dancing. Dancing is something I've done over the years for a reason. The reason is "women". Women like to dance and when you're an accommodating date, you simply go along with the flow... Women constantly ask men, "Do you like to dance"? We all say yes, but the truth of the matter is, when a group of guys get together to go out, going dancing is NEVER mentioned! They might go to the bar where women are dancing and dance with them, but it's not a primary goal. I'm just glad we settled that.

I called the White Chocolate Grill for reservations, but was told they don't accept reservations and to call about 30 minutes before we arrive and they'll put us on the "wait list". Whatever, was my reaction, but took down their phone number just in case we wound up going there. MJ looked wonderful in a well proportioned print dress with a see through upper part. The expression "arm candy" came to mind as she invited me in. She put my Fry's roses in water and we chatted for a time, and then she announced she was hungry so we left. Upon getting into the car, I remember Amanda's suggestion about calling ahead and I did. I told her that we'd be there in about 30 minutes and as we pulled up, there was not only a parking place right by the front door, but people were spewing out the front door into the 106 degree temperatures, indicating a mob!

MJ had the insight to make reservations elsewhere just in case the wait was too long. We entered, spotted a young girl with a name tag reading Amanda and announced our arrival. She handed me a vibrator and smiled and went to the next perspective customer. I interrupted and asked how long our wait would be and she smiled and said 2 minutes. About 10 seconds later, our vibrator went off and I smiled and told MJ, this girl can't judge time!

We were seated and a young waiter named Joe came over and tried to welcome us, but because of the roar of noise, I could hardly hear him, but watched his mouth move and nodded at all of the right times. The place sounded like we had entered a bee hive, the constant humming of loud conversation. The acoustics sucked the big one! MJ remember to bring my glasses after a little prodding on my part, like, "Hey, did you bring my glasses", when we got into the car? She had gone back into her house to retrieve them. Surfing the menu was a real surprise. The pricing was very reasonable for this nice, clean, upscale restaurant. MJ ordered a salad and I had their Chicken sandwich, both were served timely and were above average. At some point the noise got to me and I suggested we leave and head over to Eli's to go dancing. (I got the music in my soul!)

Parking at the famous Eli's was dense and it made me feel bad to have to give up my great spot in front of the restaurant's door, then realized I was thinking like an old person... Getting lost in the maze they call their parking lot, we wound up directly behind Eli's and the walk was about 40 yards, not bad aye?

I'd known the owners of this place for some 30 plus years and kind of felt like I'd grown up with them. In the old days, I had my name engraved on their mirror along with a lot of the regular customers, but haven't seen any of them in about 7 or 8 years and a lot has happened in that time. I was literally shocked when I went in. All of the old staff were still there, only they were "old"! There were a lot of young new bar tenders, but Greg the owner was there and gray haired and kind of bent over, but still pouring drinks and socializing with old time customers. It was like I walked into a time warp, but everyone was older. Waitresses were in their 50's and the average customer was in his 60's. I was right at home. There were bald, white haired men on the dance floor still trying to dance the night away along with women that were the disco queens of the 70's. I think the smile never left my face all night.

As I said earlier, MJ's dress was quite nice and a steady barrage of women walked by her commenting to her about how nice her dress was. MJ was clearly the prettiest woman in the joint and every man did a turn around as he walked past her. I made it a point to walk to the bar and order drinks from Greg and see if he even recognized me. Greg looked up and I could see his mind going ito it's archives to recall me and almost without hesitation said, Hi Mel, what'll you have. Then, watching his face, the information he had requested came to view and he said, been a long time. We reminisced for a brief moment and he was too busy to stand and chat. I took my white wine and coke to our seats at the wall.

The band was playing old rock and roll music from the 70's and 80's as this crowd would enjoy and I didn't have to worry about learning the new dances, this crowd was locked into the past. Carefully waiting until a song was about half over, I asked MJ to dance and she said to wait for a slow song, being ever conscious of my heart being compromised by the attack of the Indian doctor that tried to kill me some 3 years ago. I told her no, it's fine. We walked up to the dance floor, MJ dancing on the way there. MJ is a good dancer and I watched her move to the music along with all of the male population of the bar. I'm still not sure I like that much attention to my date by every guy in the joint. I moved my feet to the music like I used to 20 years ago and I was dancing the same steps as everyone else. This was a big move for me, this was the first time I'd danced since my heart surgery and although it winded me, I survived it, I was a "dancing fool"...

Eventually, I drove MJ home, gave her a kiss goodnight and headed home to the Dynamic Duo for an anticlimactic end to my evening. It was almost 3 AM and I realized, not only had I visited the past, I was even on my old schedule!

The Dating Guy

Saturday, August 2, 2008

Friday, a Day Off...

MJ with her new granddaughter.

Today was a rather eventful day for the dating guy. I had a date with my new steady girl, MJ. Our date was for her to pick me up and go to do errands. It started out with Home Depot on a quest for light bulbs. Upon entering the monster superstore devoted to, would be weekend warriors, we happened upon a near sighted gentleman wearing a Home Depot badge and helping another deserving customer. After waiting and trying to search out the elusive bulbs ourselves, we chased down the near sighted employee and asked him if he could help us. MJ produced the bulbs in question, after removing them from their paper towel lined baggy. A great packager is important and MJ fits that need in me. Our new friend held the bulbs up to the light, squinted and went on his search for the right bulbs. First of all, this woman has produced 3 different types of bulbs, that may have come from her space ship and I wouldn't have suspected a thing. I had never in my years seen bulbs of such quaint shapes and sizes, making me wonder if Home Depot sends their employees to "Bulb School"! If they don't they ought to. This guy didn't know much more then us. After trying about 1557 different bulb, MJ had to convince our super salesman that one of the ones he had suggested looked right. I could see that our boy just wanted to get rid of us and was agreeing everything we said.

Our next stop was Del Taco. Having never been there before, I was about to experience a new and different fast food trip. MJ knew exactly what she wanted and ordered her fish taco, to which I refuse to make the obvious comment. Standing in wonderment and confusion, I studied the billboard menu and noticed they had things that the average consumer might not recognize, such as the Carbon Taco. Knowing the pressure was on, I ordered the Macho Grande Burrito, not knowing what it was, but respecting it's name! After about 3 or 4 minutes, a girl yelled out number 5, which is not a good way of convincing their customer base that they are terribly successful. After all, it was lunch hour and we were only number 5 and the joint was almost empty. Finally, I got my Macho Grande Burrito and it was pretty big, alright. They served it with an order of fries and a soft drink and honestly, I've never had Mexican food served with fries, but I digress...

I bit into my Macho Grande Burrito, that was covered with unmelted cheese and causing a reason not to tip it and dump the cheese into my waiting wrapper. I neglected to mention that it was seemingly wrapped in a paper bag that MJ was polite enough to tell me was really a flour torilla, but it was ragged and torn and falling apart. My first bite was pure sour cream with a piece of my paper bag to enhance the experience. The thing I like about my Macho Grande Burrito was I never knew what the next bite would hold. Sometimes it was just lettuce and sour cream and other times chopped beef and beans. Never a boring moment. I worked my way though this ragged approach to Mexican lunch and threw in the proverbial towel and wouldn't have been surprised if indeed there was one of those in my burrito too.

After leaving Del Taco, we headed to Target for MJ to return a basket, where we were pretty successful, in spite of my carrying on with the employees, forever giving them more credit of having senses of humor than they deserve.. MJ reminded me that Target has cleaner bathrooms than Costco, so I took advantage of their hospitality, only to find that my personal urinal would not flush, causing me to regretfully leave that clean restroom a little worse for wear. (TMI, I know).

Next stop Costco, where I'm not only a preferred customer, but I seem to know my way around the place. After browsing and looking and playing for a time, MJ reminded me that it was getting closer to the time that they split for lunch at the pharmacy. It's nice having MJ with me, as she's a registered nurse as well as a hospice nurse and she can advise me on my nutritional intake. For example, I was always fond of Cranberry juice and I knew it was good for me..............wrong! MJ pointed out that it was only 30% fruit juice and no one knows what the other 70% was, but she also pointed out that it has 34 grams of sugar and I surely don't need that. Reluctantly I put my cranberry juice back onto the shelf, remarking to a elderly man that was passing by, that she won't let me have ANYTHING! I picked up a package of roast beef to throw into the cart and she made me buy sliced turkey to even out my fat intake, shit! When I tried to buy the breakfast sausage, she about threw a fit pointing out the amount of saturated fat it had. She made me put it back too. We left Costco with me grumbling under my breath, but knowing that I had a full gallon of their vanilla ice cream that I slipped into my cart when MJ wasn't looking..

We headed back to my house and were welcomed by the Dynamic Duo, happy to see us. MJ stayed about 20 minutes, but had to get going as she was having a girls night at her house. God only knows what went on behind those closed doors. I walked MJ out to her car and she gave me a hug and a long lingering kiss. God I love those kisses, (wink)!

The Dating Guy, on the first of August...