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Last Edit September 1, 1998 We couldn't control ourselves.We screamed in the elevators. 19 floors. Straight down. I still don't have my voice. We raided the hotel kitchen at 1AM. (Thank you, Mohammed.) We flirted with the night manager. We considered a lobby stakeout. Even the janitors knew what I had done. We got offers. They packed us back to our rooms. Sidewalks are closed in Little Rock after 1AM. Crosseyed by 3, we finally went to bed. Well, they did. I was up pacing the floor until 5:30AM --- I had to take a sedative to sleep. By 10AM we were up and about and calling cabs. Photo development time. First we had to finish a roll. Whatever shall we do? Pimp a poster of the blond one of course. He's holding a book. We hold him. Deep V neckline. Even his navel has cleavage. Black shirt --- I've sen that shirt. I've touchd that shirt. Nice shirt. We lay on it. We roll around the floor. We strewn roses. Did I say he gave me one? It's in the ice bucket back in my room. Still blooming. Long stem. I like long stiff stems. But then, I like big systems. Big hard drives. I drive stick shifts. We pose and cavort. I wonder about these two women. They have corrupted me. Ma hands are on the poster. Same place I had them last night. Briefly. He was hugging me so hard I had to hang on or fall over. I will lose more weight. I will make more clothes. We call a cab and powershop. 1 hour photo - we tell them to be careful. To handle with care. "Damage these and you die!" We kidnap the cab driver and go to the mall. I get a larger suitcase. Big enough to put Fabio in! Well, only if he folds up real well. We amuse the salesclerks. They are not sure about us. Especially after we tell them what I have done. They were helpful though. Dollar signs lit up their eyes. I buy a new nightgown and a neglige. I need to wear these while writing my novels. TIme to dispatch the ragged K-mart special. I need to play Fabio After Dark. Fabio thinks the CD is corny. No dear, it is not. "Hello, I am Fabio....." my favorite phrase. My almost seventeen can mimic this phrase really well. Drives me nuts. And I need photos to look at. Inspiration. No wonder all my heros are 6'3"....... We finish shopping. The cab driver returns. He knows a good thing. He even offers --- says he cleans up real well. We get our photos. I need more. More I tell you. The photographer at the end gave me his card. I will call. (Note: Some fiend stole the camera! [Cleaned that up!]) Can't have too many photos. 3rd album. My kid's pictures sit in boxes. |
Copyright 1998 Donnamaie E. White. email to donnamaie@sbcglobal.net