Friday, October 18, 2013

Slice of Life: Tales of Halloween…Monster Mash 2003

Miss Cherry understood the importance of making friends in Elementary School. Friendships to carry you through Middle School, High School, College and beyond. A strong friend base is extremely important, and it all starts to build when you are young. After all, as independent, bright and talented as any child might be…deep down…they still have a fundamental need to “fit in” or belong.

Children like to be invited to sleep over at a friend’s house, or to go to a birthday party. They like to be included in the activities of other children and their families. Kids like to socialize, laugh…all part of belonging.  So, it was with this in mind, that Cherry sat her 5th Grade son down and opened the conversation…
“Sweetheart, you’ll be invited to friend’s homes soon enough. You are basically the new kid again.”

The new kid…either a blessing or a curse. And, for my son…the social ninja…to not have been accepted back into his various public school friend groups…the ones he had before I yanked him out and dropped him into private school again…to then be yanked out and dropped back into public…well, it was devastating.
“Its okay, Honey. So…you aren’t being invited to the parties. We are just out of the social loop. Remember, when we were off in private school and swimming…they were living their lives. It’s what happens. You have to stay engaged in friendships.”

Silence from one very sad, little boy. “Listen, Sweetheart. This is just about getting back into the friendships that you have…and creating new ones. I have a great idea…we will throw the Halloween Party of the Century…invite the entire 5th Grade…and you just watch what happens. Nothing like throwing a great party to meet new people.”
“Mom, no one will come. I’m not popular anymore and my friends aren’t letting me back into our group.”

“Oh, they’ll come alright. You just watch.”
So, since Cherry was in charge of the school directory (thank you very much)…and a Home Room Mom…she blanketed the 5th Grade with invitations…both via the U. S. Mail…and back packs. Over one hundred kids were invited…sixty RSVP’d.  Well over one hundred plus kids were dropped on the doorstep. It was a drop and run. Apparently, her son’s party had become a date night for many of the parents. And, she was unknowingly contributing to the “happy couple/adult/cocktail” program all over community.

The home and yard had been artistically turned into a horrifying, spooky, creepy, haunted house…complete with Grimm Reapers (aka teenagers) roaming through the levels of the home, terrifying unsuspecting ten year olds. A Gypsy Fortune Teller (aka her beautiful daughter) in the front room…telling “fortunes”…which was somehow turned into a ‘does so and so like me?’ opportunity by all of the little girls, and a ‘let’s stare at his sister’s boobs’ night for the boys. In the living room, a death match had begun on the Dance Dance Revolution Pads, with the game blasting on the big screen. It became all about boys vs. girls, of course. The girls blew them out of the water. Surround sound Halloween music and pop blasting through the house…strobe lights turning the living room into a club scene. Total and complete…anarchy.
The kitchen was filled with the gross and gooey…which they took great delight in eating. One little boy would walk around with the Zombie Fingers Cookies (thank you, Martha Stewart)…and make it a big production as he consumed the sugar cookie flesh. Every flavor of soda flowed, Skittles were hitting their system. Dry ice was in and under everything. “Miss Cherry, this food is so gross and scary…but it’s sooooo gooooood!!!!!”

For Miss Cherry and Miss Melissa (best other 5th Grade Mom in the World)…there was vodka. A full handle of vodka and a Cosmo set up. It made sense. Vodka rich Cosmos for the stupid adults, soda for the ten year olds. Miss Melissa was dressed in a red body suit, complete with a red sequined devil’s tail and horn…and a pitchfork…which she used effectively. Miss Cherry couldn’t dress in her normal Halloween costume…Monica Lewinsky…which she understood to be inappropriate to the age group. She had to settle for either a last minute lame vampire or exhausted Mom…so she decided to go with both.
“Do you see little Arianna up on the hearth?”

“Is she dressed as a Go Go Dancer? What is that costume?”
“Well, she’s in her own little world on that hearth. She’s been up there the entire party, and won’t let anyone up there to dance with her. What are your thoughts on that Miss Melissa?”

“Stripper. Future Stripper.”
“Yep. That little girl has a bright future in the adult entertainment industry.”

About that time, Cherry was joined by another Grimm Reaper…one of her son’s best friends…the cutest little girl in the 5th Grade…Sydney.  She has opted out of all princess, Go Go Dancer…girly costumes…and has decided to express her inner sarcastic darkness. She slides up out of nowhere…“Hello, Miss Cherry. So, I scared you good, huh?”
“Yes, you did…Miss Sydney…you Grimm Reaper, you. What are those girls doing over there?”

“Where?”
“In the middle of the dance floor…what are they doing? What is that dance?”

And, about that time…one of the little girls notices she’s being watched and says…”Miss Cherry, may we please pop?”
“What’s popping?”

“It’s just a dance, Miss Cherry. It’s a lot of fun.”
“Sure, sweetheart…pop away.”

Back to Sydney. “So, how is your Mom?”
“Miss Cherry?”

“Yes”
“When they ask you if they can pop, you should say no. It’s a “no popping” dance floor.”

Cherry and Melissa turn around to see these little girls all popping their behinds up like strippers, and Arianna on the hearth adding the popping to her repertoire.
"NO POPPING!!!!!”  And, they resume their normal dance moves. Little tricky ghouls. Don’t dress like a princess and act like a stripper. Anyway, turning back to grab her Cosmo…thin air.

“Sydney, have you seen Miss Cherry’s Cosmo? I keep setting them down, and I can’t find them once I do.”
“Well, it was here…but Cody has been stealing your drinks all night for a group of boys. You shouldn’t put your drink down, Miss Cherry. They distract you…and then, take your drink and share it. Actually, they are getting kinda drunk. One of them was running from one of the teenagers dressed as a Grimm Reaper and ran right into a door.”

Great. So, after an Executive meeting with Miss Melissa…a pact was made not to sacrifice one more ounce of vodka out of neglect. Sneaky little ghouls. Need to keep them organized and busy.
“Okay kids, time for the scavenger hunt. I’m going to divide you into groups of twenty and assign you a teenager or adult. We are going to go out into the neighborhood, try to get the things on our lists…and the first group back wins!”

No response. A strobe light going off, silent stares. Finally, one of their leaders stepped up to say…. “WE WANT TO STAY HERE AND PLAY DANCE DANCE REVOLUTION!!!!!!!!!!!!!! “ To which all of the kids started cheering him on. And to top it off, Arianna is refusing to leave the hearth. Drunk, stripper dancing, sneaky, tricky…uncooperative…little ghouls. Adults rule, kids drool.
Eventually, the first several groups out into the neighborhood. Made Cherry turn to Melissa and say…”I’ll tell you what…when I was a kid, scavenger hunts were too cool. Neighbors handed you the paper clip, rubber band, toilet roll, old newspaper…and whatever else a Mom put on the list. Just so you could bring back your loot and make the art project. Maybe they’ll enjoy the Halloween Party art project.” Miss Melissa had her doubts.

Unfortunately, time had taken its toll on the scavenger hunt from the 60’s and 70’s. It was a million years later, and outdated…from the perspective of a 5th Grader. The hunt was non-party-productive.
“Miss Cherry, Miss Gladys on the corner said to tell you that ‘if one more group of screaming kids comes to her front door for a toilet roll…she’s calling the cops’…and that she will want the toilet paper, rubber bands and paper clips back after your Halloween fiasco.”

There you go…Gladys had no sense of wonderment. Who would call the cops on a 5th Grade Monster Mash? Easy answer…grumpy neighbors who never turned their lights on for the kids at Halloween. I guess the ten year olds pushed right through the lack of holiday cooperation, and were going for the gold. Maybe, Cody and his gang were adding “Bud Light” to their list…who knows? But, since a cop shut down would be damaging to the party purpose, kids were herded back, and candied up. This suited those ghouls just fine. They danced and ran around in the house. Miss Melissa and Miss Cherry drank their vodka. It was a win-win. No cops were called to the scene.
Parents started showing up to pick up their kiddos. Cherry and Melissa had a nice visit with Arianna’s Mom who thought Arianna had special talents, and then, dragged her off the hearth.

Then, they took Cody’s Mom aside to discuss the accidental alcohol intake. Her reply…”That kid steals alcohol all of the time. We had to install a lock on the liquor cabinet. He’s a handful. (wink) Do you have a Cosmo for me?”
So, all of the kids went away sugared up and beyond happy. The parents didn’t have to roam the neighborhood for hours…and Cherry’s son made more friends than he could ever imagine. He had the party of the world…in 5th Grade terms. Matter of fact…this prompted the question…”Miss Cherry, will you have another Halloween Party next year when we are in 6th Grade?”

She had to think about that one. After all, having taught 6th Grade Religious Education at St. Maria’s for years, she knew what happened mid-year in the 6th Grade….the conversion. The conversion from sweet kid to…”I’m almost in Junior High.” It was the time when they were nearing that twelve year old mark in life…and attitude started emerging…and the phrase…”That sucks!”…entered their vocabulary. They’d be kissing in the bathrooms, breaking up and going steady…stealing more alcohol. But…really…Halloween did fall before the mid-year mark. It just might be doable.
“I’m not so sure, sweetheart. Maybe…if y’all are really good for your parents and teachers over the next year, we’ll see. Being that y’all are a bunch of ghouls…zombies…pirates…ninjas…ghosts…well, what can I expect? Full of mischief, all of you!”…a wink and a smile.

When it is all said and done…honestly…happy little ghoul equals a happy Mom. So, it takes you a couple of months to fully recover all of the stolen martini glasses from wherever Cody hid them?  So, what? Think of it all as hidden treasure, and you’ll do be just fine.

Tuesday, October 15, 2013

Cherry's Dating Horror Stories...part of the "Thank God It Wasn't Me Series"...Mr. Perfect


Miss Cherry just loooovesss those random conversations that make life too fun. Little celebrations of the ridiculous events that resonate. So, it was the beyond random conversation with the New Service Customer Service Cutie at her soon to be Cable, Internet and TV provider…somewhere in the Midwest…that triggered a memory for Cherry…and it went something like this…

“So, Ma’am…do you want the bundled package? And how soon do want the install?”

“ASAP, and Yes. I am in desperate need of internet…as it’s ruining my life to not have it right now. And, about the TV…I haven’t had cable in a year. I shut it down because I was saturated.”

“Oh, I get it. What did you watch?”

“Well, I had pneumonia for over 27 weeks last year…and spent month after month…laying on the couch…in a pool of sweat…unable to breathe or move…unable to write or talk. The only thing I could really do was push the buttons on my remote. So…I got hooked on all of The Real Housewives. All of them. Matter of fact, I got hooked on everything. History Channel, SyFy Channel, Food Network, Cooking Channel, Crime Shows…you name it…I was hooked on it. That time frame pickled my brain on so many levels.”

“I get it. I was in a car accident last year…and spent 9 months in a bed…unable to move. All you do is watch TV. I got hooked on Law and Order, NCIS, all of the crime channels, and How I Met Your Mother. I’m saturated too. And, here I work for a cable company.”

We laughed. I expressed my sympathy for her accident. She understood. I understood.

“You know, sweetie…(she’s only 20 years old…same age as my son)…haven’t you found that since you have been watching these crime and detective shows…you notice things you haven’t noticed before?”

“Oh, yes!!!!!  I see details in everything. Sometimes they mess with my head.”

“I know…me too. So, I’m laying there watching…Children Who Kill…and I’m going through my mental list of my kid’s friends thinking…who do I need to watch closely?”

And she laughs.

“I have a funny story about my new CSI skills, if you want to hear it?”

“Yes, Ma’am…you are making me laugh…and making my day. Please, do! (and she starts belly laughing)”

So, I start telling her about meeting a guy that was…”the one”…for one of my friends. Of course, he wasn’t “the one”…and she is now with the proper “the one”…but it’s a great story of using all of those CSI skills in real life dating scenarios.  Anyway…it goes like this…

“Cherry, you have to meet him. He’s perfect. What an amazing guy!!!!!! Please! Please, come by the restaurant where we are…so you can meet him and tell me what you think.”

So, I agree…and drive 45 minutes to walk into a sports bar/restaurant…to meet Mr. Perfect. I walk in and they are sitting at the bar…which places me flanking the corner with him…and I’m to his right. He is extremely nice. Full scotch and water sitting in front of him…my friend with her wine. He orders me a drink. I order a small appetizer. It comes…I share…and at one point…I drop my napkin from the barstool to the floor. I bend down to try to reach it…and I see a huge pool of golden liquid.

To the bartender…“Excuse me, Sir. But I think someone has spilled something on the floor here…and you might want to send someone to clean it up before someone steps into it and possibly falls. It’s pretty large, so you might want to bring a mop.”

Mr. Perfect chimes in…”Oh, I spilled my beer earlier.” And I think…”hmmmm, he’s drinking scotch and water. This has happened since I have been sitting here.”

“When did you spill your beer?”

“Earlier, before you came.” To which my girlfriend chimes in…”But, you aren’t drinking beer.” Silence.

So, I bend down to investigate. After all, I have been watching CSI (Crime Scene Investigation) for over a year, and all those skills are now in the forefront of my mind. I am now…a Forensic Goddess. Time to figure this shit out.

“Well, let me see. If you had been drinking a beer, and it had fallen from this height…assuming it wasn’t a glass mug or container…it would have spilled and bounced…or broken. No glass. And, I see that they are serving beer in glass. In addition, there is no splatter.”

“Splatter? What in the Hell are you talking about? I dropped my beer.”

“No, actually you didn’t. If you check closely, the edges of this rather large puddle are solid, which means this has come from a single source…continuous stream. Might I add, there is no splatter. That is very important. There is always splatter with a drop. It’s an impact thing.”

Mr. Perfect is very angry right now…and honestly, I’m just tired and investigating. I feel it is my solemn duty to check this man out for my girlfriend. First red flag, big drinker…possible alcoholic. Second flag…he’s a big, fat liar. He didn’t drop shit…there…was…no…splatter.
So, he excuses himself and walks towards the restrooms. I watch him walk. Every single time his right foot touches down…splatters…two to three little drops. Houston, we have a problem. But, this is something I’m going to have discuss with my girlfriend in the light of day. Never seen this before…nope…this is a new one.

He comes back, and I excuse myself to leave. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Perfect. Have a nice night.” To which he says…”Wait, Cherry. We’re going CW dancing, meeting Gigi and Lili. You should join us.”
I don’t. The next day, I hear from my girlfriend, who says…”Isn’t he perfect? The only thing about him is that he has a sweating problem. Only on the front. He sweated all night. I stopped dancing with him, because he got the front of my clothes wet. He got Gigi and Lili wet too. Then, he spent the night, and sweat all over my bed. It’s soaked. What’s the best way to remove sweat from a mattress? Can you come over and help me figure this whole mattress thing out? Also, I probably need to clean the leather in my Mercedes. He sweat all over that as well.”

Silence. “Sweetheart, I should have pulled you aside last night…but I wanted to think about it. He isn’t perfect, even though I know you really like him. He isn’t Mr. Perfect…He’s Mr. Pee Pants. All of that is urine.”
Horror. Shock. Crying. Understandably. Which made me jump in my car and head to her home. We investigated all of the scenes of the crime…and determined…he’s Mr. Pee Pants. So, my friend calls him to confront him. He says he can’t control it when he’s drinking. Why? He’s a hideous, advanced alcoholic. And honestly, he doesn’t care. I guess peeing on the floor of a restaurant bar is just another day in the life of this man.

The kicker is…she kept dating him. Compassion. So, it wasn’t until several weeks later, when we were all sitting in her home for her Christmas Party…with her sister and sister’s family, other family, friends…it all came to a head. He just stood there, and without a care in the world...peed on himself. Didn’t care, just kept on drinking, laughing…sucked down all of the bottles in her liquor cabinet. A huge wet spot grew until the entire front of his pants was soaked.
The mattress was tossed and replaced. And, so was the boyfriend. I am happy to report that my dear friend is happily married to a man who not only can control his liquor intake…but his bladder as well. He actually is...Mr. Perfect.

“Ma’am…OH MY GOD!!!! That’s horrible. But, I must say…a wonderful use of all of those hours of watching CSI.”
And, we laughed so hard…that she didn’t schedule my installment on the correct day…matter of fact, she had me two weeks out. I don’t really care. All of those shows can wait.

Miss Cherry needs to just read a book. Honestly, it will probably get her in less trouble out and about. Sometimes, ignorance is bliss. Thank God, it wasn't me.

Friday, October 4, 2013

Conversations with Sunny...Who Let the Dogs Out?

So...last night I went up to a local yockel bar...to see some old friends. All the Ladies sitting around catching up...husbands...kids...travel...work...hormones...being single (for some)...you know, the stuff we like to talk about when we are hanging en masse. It was a blast plus a blast from the past. Anyway...

After a couple of hours, we moved to another local haunt...The Monkey...as it was Songwriters Night, and we wanted to be able to sit outside on that beautiful, temperate night...have a cocktail...listen to some live music...and visit. Our Cosmos were converted to a Cape Cod...and we had to settle for little squatty glasses with more cranberry with vodka. Anyway...
Along comes a drunk, swaggering guy in a baseball cap...with his eye on the table. He has his eye on the table...I have my eye on him. Coming up behind Miss Jules...he puts his hand on her shoulder, and says..."Mind if I sit down next to you?"...(squatting down just enough for the slide into the picnic table position.) Anyway...

"NO." Loud with finger pointing straight at him.
"What?"

"I said...NO! Move on. NOW."
It had happened...I had finally rounded that corner in the single world where I just didn't care about being so nice. The beautiful married ladies at the table just laughed. It was like I had become the self-appointed table guard dog. So, I told them exactly what Sunny had told me several years back about being out in a bar.

"Cherry, you can't be nice. Don't make eye contact. Don't smile. Ignore them. I was out there a long time, and you have no idea what men in bars are like. Don't be nice to them. Tell them to go away, and mean it!"
And, she was right. I hadn't spent time in nightclubs or bars my entire life. I was married young, had a couple of kids, had a crazy career...so, when I became single...I didn't really consider hanging in bars part of my world. For me, it's always been about being with friends and family. Bars just aren't my thing.

"You aren't used to the bar scene. You're going to have to put away that sweet, conversational Miss Cherry persona...and become a bitch. Period. Cherry…be a bitch. It’s the only thing they’ll understand. If you are nice or polite, they will use it against you. Remember…be a bitch.”
The next morning, I’m talking to Sunny. I just had to tell of my breakthrough. I was so proud.

“Sunny!!!!! You’re not going to believe this! (I tell her about yelling at the guy at the bar to back off my friend) It’s official…I have become you.”
She starts laughing. So, I tell her about my recent experiences of trying to work on my laptop at a local restaurant, as I was tired of the Starbucks scene. Unfortunately, being accessible is sometimes confused for being available. Starbucks was sitting on my last nerve. So, I plugged in and hooked onto WiFi. Love those Sweet Potato Chips and Salsa.

“I’ve never thought of the bar at this restaurant as an actual ‘bar’…but here I was…researching Italian platters and Georgian antiques…and the seat next to me went into rotation. I’d even put my crap in the seat…and they’d move it.”
And it did. And I didn’t get it at the time. “What are you working on? I love your hair. You’re a hottie. You have nice teeth. Look at your big, brown eyes. Can I touch your hair? Do you need a back rub, you’re working so hard? I like your necklace, I like the way it drops down. Can I buy you a drink? Do you live near here? (DON’T TOUCH MY HAIR) Why? I love your hair. I bet men tell you about your hair and how they want to pull it?  Give me your hand, I want to look at your palm. You have small, pretty hands and wrists…can I hold your hand? Will you go out to dinner with me right now? How about tomorrow? Why are you packing it up? Are you leaving? Where are you going? Can I walk you out to your car? (NO) If I go get a bottle of wine, will you share it with me on this beautiful night? We can sit on my back deck and watch the moon. (NO NO NO NO NO NO NO) It’s alright…the best people wait.”

I look at the bartender and ask…”What the Hell? This is a restaurant.” He replies…”Yes it is. But, this one is turning more into a bar. If you need me, just tug on your ear, and I’ll get rid of them. I do it all the time.” It was then that I really learned…you can’t be a single woman sitting at a bar…and not have them come out of the woodwork. Hammerheads. You can be working…it just doesn’t matter. You are at a bar…and they are going to hit on you. Period. Anyway…
“Sunny, I was you last night. I saw him coming and let him have it. It was like scolding a dog. Matter of fact, he was a dog - mangy, drunk dog. You know…if I had a squirt bottle…I would have squirted him on the nose.”

“Cherry!!! That’s a great idea!”
“I think it’s my million dollar idea…kind of like the pet rock…”Miss Cherry’s ‘BAD DOG’ Dating Squirt Bottle”…in red, of course. You can carry it in your purse, and pull it out and squirt them on the nose and say…”GO AWAY! BAD DOG!” And, when they are sitting there with the water on their nose…squirt them again…just for good measure.

I think I’m on to something here. Best idea I’ve had all day. Gonna have to look into that, maybe start merchandising these squirt bottles…I’ll make a cool mil…and then pull the trigger on that trip to Southern France I’ve been needing for about 6 months now.
I just love it when a plan comes together.