THE DOWN AND DIRTY DOSEY DOE

I have an elegant dress to wear. It’s a deep slate. I’m wearing silver…Bracelet, chain…dangling earrings – you know, ‘vertical framing’…so, hair up, or down?

Up. Sexy. You know I hate these things…

Oh, stop. You said the magic word. I’ll make it worth your while. Just keep that in mind for later.

In that case, let’s hope it doesn’t drag on.

If it does we’ll dosey on out…

We’ll what?

‘Dosey’…Dosey Doe?….you know? Square dancing? What?! What are you laughing at? It’s not THAT funny!

You have so many facets. Who the hell ARE you?!

You never square danced? It’s fun!

Ha! Fun?!

They never made you square dance? In school, even? Never?

Not the school I went to. ‘Dosey doe’ was  more like ‘down and dirty’ . Square dancing might get you less of a beat-down than ballet, but a beat-down , bet your ass.

No culture?

Inner city culture. Rough around the edges maybe, but , yeah, still ‘a Culture’. Square dancing is ‘country culture’. Never work.

I don’t know. Things can be beautiful when they cross over.

You sure can be. Care to cross over here?  Like that? …right now?

NO! I can’t! I’ve got a lot of getting ready to do.

Sounds like shopping.

I’ve got everything. Not sure of the earrings…

I’m sure they’ll be fine. So, there, that’s settled. Come on…

Hair!?  Nails? Hello? Going to Mila’s at 2.

So no playing afterwards?

You know the answer to that.

Don’t mess the hair.

…don’t mess the hair.

No dosey doe…

Oh, I’ll show you the old dosey doe a little later, partner.

Eeeee –hah, Partner. Two o’clock, huh? What time is it now?

Noooo. No down and dirty.

You’re thinking about it.

You know I am. And you are not?

So there’s time.

Not in my mind. I’ve got things to get done. Find something sexy for underneath…

Nothing sexier than nothing at all.

Oh yes there is.

Prove it.

I will…later.

Damn. I can’t convince you?

Oh, I’m convinced, but I’m also pre-occupied. This is a big night. People will be looking.

Yes, they will. And they won’t be disappointed. Unlike me…right now.

You poor deprived baby.

You challenging me?!

Oh, I will be, so get some rest. See you in a few.

No! Auugghh. Don’t leave!   …damn.

It turned out to be a grand celebration, after all. She had received her award very graciously. It was no surprise that she won, and there was a sincere and warm embracing from the collective group, a standing ovation, bringing tears to her eyes. She trembled a bit as she spoke…all the more endearing. He wiped a tear from his eye, as well, and sat bursting with pride, in awe at what she had achieved and the respect she received.

Given the out pouring, she was in great demand for photos and interviews afterward, so the evening did, indeed, drag on a bit. But he wasn’t going to deny her the moment. They had forever. Yet as he watched he grew more impatient and she noticed. As she passed, she whispered, “You’re lusting.”

And he responded, “Guilty. Oh, so guilty…”

Soon.

Not soon enough.

Then came dinner with the Producer, Director, Writer and Agents. There was much adrenaline at the table as ‘the next project’ was highly anticipated in lively chatter, most of which did not involve him.  Under the table, she rubbed the inside of his thigh working her way dangerously close to the prize, then slipping away. The tease. Let her play. It was her career. Her Life. What do we live for if not for some recognition…some respect…some affection? And even some sexual tension? Let her bask and share in it. She found joy in the sharing. Let her.

It grew late. They grabbed a cab home with the writer, who dropped them and picked up the tab. A Nice woman. He sensed an attraction between them, or was that just the drinking? They all had had their share. He wondered briefly, if she would like to share the rest of the evening. But then the cab left them at the curb and drove off.

I think she’s hot for you.

I was thinking that about you.

Let’s call her back.

Let’s not.

Let’s not.

Did you find what you were looking for?

What? Tonight? I would guess so! Unforgettable! Thank you.

Good. I’m so very proud. Really. But I was referring to earlier…

Earlier?

Yes. The “Something Underneath”…

Ohhhh! Yes. That. One track mind…

You put me on that track, Madam.

I did?

Yes you did. And that WAS you groping me at dinner, was it not?

I don’t know what you are talking about. I’m betting it was Kenneth. He likes you

I’ll bet you’re right. He has such gentle hands. Probing. But , then, We had an agreement...You and I…

So we did.

So we do.

So let’s do.

Deal. And “Oh My!” will you look at those! You were right. Those are nasty and so worth getting down to nothing, because what’s under those is like nothing else.

I don’t know who writes your material mister, but I am strangely, stupidly, attracted…

Me too.

So what say we shut up?

Let’s say we put up.

Let’s.

I'm down.

And I'm dirty.

Prove it.

zuma nuda

small frames

^

I

don't

paint

Large

canvases

V

ALL SHARKY

What do you mean Tangerine?

What the fuck is tangerine?

Like no suit I ever seen.

You don’t go believing

you’ll be seeing that on me!

What else you got?

Butternut?!

What the fuck is ‘butternut’?

What?!

Looks like shit!

Look at this gut, see this butt?…

you want all this wrapped up in butternut?

Come on…

What happened to Blue?

Or brown?

Or Gray?

Or suede?

Hey, got something in Silver?

...all shimmy and shiny?
Can’t beat them girls away!

How ‘bout something Sharky and smart

You know man,

look cool,

look cut

lookin' razor sharp

If you want the job

got to look the part

play the role

swim on in

all silent

all trim…

new shark in the pool

they go…oooo, that’s him…

chickens want to play

with a man 
Attired  
a certain way

what you laughing at?

Why are you laughing at all?

Hell, if I leave it up to you

I’m a fucking butter-ball

Or some sherbet cone,
melting in the corner,
Leavin' all-alone

Won't be the joke

to be remembered
way down the road,

Not the way
I want to be known…

What?

Seriously? Now you just being mean.       

What the fuck is wintergreen?!

Fuck Springtime.

I want a Suit I can have a little fun in

You just think you being funny

Got me going around

like some big pink bunny.

And I thought you were my friend.

Checkers?

Yeah, I like checkers….

A SAD MESS

I never knew Yolanda. She was from the other parish. The opposite side of town. The south end. In old days there was no rich side or poor side ...there was only north, south, and downtown...simple directions, nothing more. Just follow the highway on through. In time, money and class came to the community and the lines became drawn. First the retailers and merchants for those that got some. Those that could not purchase or save were not welcome, got none. The developers finally arrived, like sharks after chum...there were many private meetings about private communities and fourth generation families, sold out the Town and decided to put in the lake. There were many questions, important questions...and still more that were not asked. What would happen to the water supply? The south end would be fine, and it was deeded. Downtown became quaint and historic, and since it had become an income engine, drawing tourism to it’s quaintness, their water was due. Had to have those fountains... But, the north...? The north would be short-ended. Depleted. Water, wages, way-of-life. The Help got to live somewhere...it's important to the infrastructure. Way out here, a substantial pool, so the labor is cheap, and out of view, so tidy and neat. No reason to go there, and plenty to leave.

Yolanda was lucky and landed a nanny spot with a couple of swells, just moved out from the city. They preferred their Latina to look more Anglo, you know? Like central casting. And lucky for Yolanda her father was half anglo. Blue eyes. To hell with the kid, she looked the part. It was Yolanda's first job. She was not prepared, but they gave her the part. That decision can’t be avoided. People want what they want. Some bad priorities, but that don't matter. Yolanda did fine...more than got-by for several months until that night. You know, the night the little boy died. He choked. Chocked on a plastic brick, as they sat on the floor building cities...she just did not see, his back to her...until he collapsed into the pile. She did everything she could conceive of but in a panic...everything wrong in retrospect...only succeeding in lodging the piece in the child's windpipe and before she finished placing the call to Emergency, the boy went limp.

She ran down the road. She screamed...wailed...and ran. She ran as fast and as hard as she ever had ... tear blind, throat raw, her lungs burned, she screamed like a wailing siren. Barely avoiding a delivery truck in mid street,  causing it to swerve and wreck…the driver suspects she was trying to die, too. The gardener, he saved her,  unloading his trailer as it occurred, heard the brakes, saw the swerve, yanked her away with a rake, to the curb. But.. 
Saved her from what? 
…and why?!  
No one could deny. 
Just a sad, sad mess.