Monday, October 19, 2015

Fifty Shades of Parody (Chapter 22a)

"Thank you, Mr..." I take a quick look at the security guy's nametag, "...Johnson."
     "Ma'am," he tells me, indignantly, "my name is Raymond J. Johnson Jr. Now, you can call me Ray, or you can call me Jay, or you can call me Johnny, or you can call me Sonny, or you can call me Junie, or you can call me Junior, or you can call me Ray-Jay, or you can call me Jay-Jay, or you can call me RJ, or you can call me RJJ, or you can call me RJJ Jr... but you doesn't hasta call me Johnson."
     Um... that's good to know. For future reference, I mean.
     "Thanks you," I tell him, "...sir."
     While in the First Class waiting area, I have a drink or two, a nosh or two, and a massage or two. I didn't know they gave massages at the airport, and the masseuse is kind enough to take my purse for "cleaning." Wow, I could get used to this kind of life.
     I send Christian a quick email.
"You are such a thoughtless jerk, spending money on me the way you do. I never want to see you again ever! Also, I am drunk. And how long does it take to clean a purse anyway?"
"Ana, you're rambling."
     My mother arrives just then.
     "Sorry I'm late, honey," she tells me. "I was working the truck stop."
     I'm in the middle of getting another massage, so I'm laying stomach-down with my face in the donut, just like I do every Saturday night.
     I see 2 pair of feet.
     "Hi, Ana," says the second pair. "What's new?"
     It's my step-father, Bob Bitchin.
     "Oh, nothing," I tell him playfully. "I just got a job in the last chapter."
     "Oh, honey," my mother says, "that's wonderful."
     "Yes," my step-father concurs, "it is. But you know you could have always come work for me, like your mom."
     I tell him I know, but I'm just trying to be kind.
     "I wanted to do it on my own," I explain.
     "I know, Ana," he tells me. I know, he knows, everybody knows. "Well, I've got to go. Dear..." he says, turning to mom, "how much did you earn for me at the truck stop?"
     "Twenty dollars and ten cents," she tells him proudly.
     "Tent cents?" he yells. "Who the heck paid you ten cents?"
     "All of them."
     While my mother is busy counting out all the dimes, I decide to send off another quick email to Christian.
"I'm sorry about before, Christian. I've been upset ever since John Boehner said he was retiring."
"That's okay."
"What are you doing?"
"Eating. With a friend."
"WHAT? You're EATING? With John Boehner RETIRING? I've never known anyone so callous! And, yes, I do know what the word 'callous' means. I never want to speak with you again... EVER! Oh, and can you send me your American Express number? I want to pay for things MYSELF."
     My mother is done, kisses my step-dad, and sends him on his way. Now she can turn all her annoying attention to me.
     "You have to lower your standards to get a man," she says, offering me unwanted advice. "Remember Ike Turner? From Ike & Tina Turner? I think he was Tina. Well, no sooner did he get out of prison for using drugs than he found himself a girlfriend. They made a whole movie about how he used to physically abuse his wife, and he still found a girlfriend. Do you know why? Because he found a girl with low standards. That girl would be alone today if she had set her standards any higher."
     "But I do have a boyfriend, mom," I tell her, beseechingly. "His name is Christian, and he's rich."
     "He's not like all your other boyfriends, is he? The ones you had in high school? The ones who always lived out of town so no one could ever meet them?"
     "No, mom. This one's real."
     "Because I don't want you to be like me, Ana. When I was younger, I set my standards too high. I remember one time, I was working a bachelor party when the future groom told me where I could find a husband. It was a building filled with single men who were looking for wives. He gave me the address and I immediately went there after servicing him and all his friends. I was greeted at the front desk by the receptionist, who told me, 'If you'd like, ma'am, you can go to each room down this hall, see what they have to offer, and choose your husband accordingly. The only restriction is that you can only go forward, not back.'
     "'I can't go back?' I asked.
     "'That's right, you can't go back.'
     "'Back, as in the direction I can't go?'
     "'That's right. back.'
     "'Back, as in recede, regress, or retreat?'
     "'That's right, back.'
     "'Back, as in move back, fall back, or turn back?'
     "'That's right, back.'
     "'Back, as in moving in a reverse motion?'
     "'That's right, back.'
     "'Back, as in no longer being able to advance in a backwardly direction?'
     "'That's right, back.'
     "'Back, as in...'"
     "Mom," I cut in.
     "What?" she answers.
     "You're rambling," I tell her.
     "Oh," she tells me.
     She searches for her point, and finds it. It had rolled under the mini-fridge.
     "'Aren't you listening to me?' the receptionist finally asked me. I must admit I wasn't, but that didn't stop me from immediately agreeing to the condition and starting my long walk down that long hallway longingly. When I got to the first room, there was a sign on the door that said: 'Short, Fat, Ugly, Stupid, and Poor.' I shook my head in disgust. Even us hookers have standards. They just happen to be in the form of U.S. currency. So I walked to the second room. There was also a sign on the door. It said: 'Tall, Fat, Ugly, Stupid, and Poor.' Not my cup of tea, so I walked to the next room, and the third sign said: 'Tall, Fit, Ugly, Stupid, and Poor." Still, no sell. My nose itched. I scratched it, and then made my way a little further down the hall. The sign to the fourth room said: 'Tall, Fit, Handsome, Stupid, and Poor.' Hmm... now we were getting somewhere. I like my men like I like my coffee: stupid. But that poor thing. Yeetch! I walked to the fifth room, and the sign on that door said: 'Tall, Fit, Handsome, Smart, and Poor.' These were men who had everything I wanted in a man, except what I wanted most: money. So I threw caution to the wind and went straight to the sixth door. The sign there said: "Tall, Fit, Handsome, Smart, and Rich.' Whew, finally! I stood there for a second, wanting to go in. I almost felt like crying. In a moment all my dreams would come true, but... I could see a final door at the end of the hallway. I decided to double-down and see what more I could get. So I walked the final few feet to the seventh door, turned the knob, and entered the room. Only it wasn't a room. It was the alley behind the building. This time the sign was on the other side of the door. It read: 'This Proves That Women Are Never Satisfied.'"
American Chimpanzee

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