At the back of the hill

Warning: If you stay here long enough you will gain weight! Grazing here strongly suggests that you are either omnivorous, or a glutton. And you might like cheese-doodles.
BTW: I'm presently searching for another person who likes cheese-doodles.
Please form a caseophilic line to the right. Thank you.

Friday, June 10, 2011

THE LEFT TESTICLE

He was infuriated that there would be a delay on the Bridge this afternoon. And though he realized the illogic, he couldn't help but feel that it was meant to inconvenience him, and him alone.
The fates were determined to ruin his day.

Couldn't he leave earlier or later than the scheduled delay?
No, because his girlfriend, who worked in Petaluma, was going to meet him at the office, then they would drive to Fremont for a dinner engagement.
Oh, the horrid luck.

Initially the others sympathized with him. But as his ire waxed, most of us started to enjoy the performance.


"There there, little man, our piles bleed."


It was the usual collection of cigar-smoking layabouts at the wall, plus one pipe smoker.
The fellow lamenting his horrible fate was one of the regulars.
His eloquence was wasted, though. The rest of us were determined to enjoy our time with our smokes.
Warm day, lovely young office maidens walking past, a mild breeze to ruffle the skirts, and fine tobacco - what could be better?

But in his world, darkness, gloom, and despair. Plus the prospect of delayed dinner with his girlfriend, who would've come down from her job in Petaluma. Many hours in the car, plus many more hours driving to the East Bay.
Given his testiness, we advised packing snacks. Plus an extra cigar or two. Drinking water. Take a leak before you go. Both of you. And pack a snackipoo for her, because she'll be grouchy on low blood sugar, and with your moodiness that's a bad scenario. She'll have to listen to you grumble for two hours!
Oh, the humanity!
I'm not sure he appreciated all of our insistently smiling advice.


"Too sour, little hamster, too sour! Be happy!"


After cleaning my pipe, I bid adieu to everyone - wished them a good weekend, and a lovely long drive across the bay - and headed back to the office.

As I left I could hear Dave asking the angry hamster if he had a name for his left testicle.
No, no idea how the left testicle came up. Can only imagine. But Dave must have jumped on it the same way he ragged Waldo for his unique clothing choices earlier.
Dave was in fine form rhetoricizing about the testicle.
Rip, roaring, raring.

On Monday I'll ask the hamster how his weekend was. And how long the drive to Fremont took.

I'll also suggest that EVERYBODY should name their left testicle. Not just him.
It's a darn good thing to have names for parts of yourself.
Especially the left testicle.
Maybe 'Gomez'?

Please do NOT introduce us. We have NO need to be on a first-name basis with your left testicle.
Save it for Dave, he's the only one with a perceived need to know.
Or, for that matter, any interest. In your left testicle.
We're overjoyed that you have one.
Especially 'Left Testicle Dave'.
And we hope it's happy.
Feels appreciated.
The precious.


On no account speak to it in public. Not here. Not now.
It probably doesn't want to be recognized.
That's why it hides all the time.
Your left testicle.




==========================================================================
NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
LETTER BOX.
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.
==========================================================================

Labels: ,

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home

 
Newer›  ‹Older