Jack and Mary looked like the perfect couple, right?
Who would have thought that pots and pans would lead to this?
Mary spent a fortune on those pots and pans.
But when Jack tried to put them in the dishwasher, she freaked out.
They’re not dishwasher safe? said Jack. What a goddamned pain in the ass.
She said she cooked better with them. Jack said her cooking still tasted like shit.
They fought, and Jack ended up slamming the dishwasher’s door on Mary’s head a few times.
Now he’s washing dishes in prison.
And the food always tastes like shit.
The rain comes
After a few weeks of mild sunny weather and then a few days of hotter weather, it’ll be raining for a few days.
It’s a relaxing sound. The thunder. Lighting. The rain.
I didn’t slide the patio chairs under the umbrella in time to keep them dry, or I’d be reading under the big umbrella.
Oh well. Maybe I can fold up a bath towel, swap out a cushion, and sit on it under the cover.
The rain will stop in a few hours.
Maybe the streets will be fine tomorrow.
But if they aren’t, I can work at home.
The telephones
I hate the telephones.
Every one of them.
They’re always ringing.
Angry customers calling us.
Angry at us.
When they should be angry at themselves.
For not reading the manual.
For not following the instructions.
For using our product wrong.
For being so stupid.
And cheap, too.
Because we’re cheap.
We buy cheap servers.
We hire cheap labor.
Especially to answer the phones.
The phones that I hate.
The phones that are always ringing.
What do we sell?
Telephones, of course.
The customers call us.
To complain that they are broken.
But yet, somehow, they work enough to call us.
Weekly Challenge #775 – WINE
- Lizzie
- Richard
- Serendipidy
- Tom
- Norval Joe
- Jared
- Tura
- Planet Z
RICHARD
Miracle?
Yeah, turning water into wine, just a cheap parlour trick really. It’s not like anyone checked the jars for the false water trays.
Feeding the five thousand? Well, did you see the food come out of the baskets? Of course not, because it didn’t! All misdirection and sleight of hand.
As for Lazarus: Well, it could have been anyone wrapped up in those burial cloths… And it was!
Of course, people want to believe in miracles, and nobody looks too closely in the heat of the moment.
You’re going to love my final trick… It’ll be the stuff of legends!
LIZZIE
Everyone sat at the table and toasted. Everyone smiled. Yes, that fake smile that goes well with wine and the possibility of a new job. He thought about the cool car he’d buy, the shiny new apartment, even the weekend lodge by the lake. And then he blurted out that stupid thing. He had to say it, didn’t he? Why? Because he was a moron. “This wine is not one of the best I have had.” No more job for you, you simpleton. Why had he decided to apply for a job at a winery? He didn’t even like wine.
TOM
Wine
I live in the wine county. No really. Not that sugar injected region known
as New York. Or that euro-trash region outside of Paris. I am talking
above the Napa Valley. A land hip deep in volcanic red soil. Of course,
having tastes buds raised in Chicago took a fair amount of time to mature.
Also getting over the idea of a bottle costing a day’s pay is, well now
reasonable, also took some time. When I was young wine choice was binary,
how its more taxonomical. But really, it’s all about the pairing. What
wine goes with Cap-n-Crunch.
SERENDIPIDY
When I bought the house, I had only one stipulation.
I didn’t care about the state of repair, the number of bedrooms or whether the shrubs were well-established and cared for.
The only thing I insisted upon was a wine cellar.
A large wine cellar, dry, and with thick, thick walls.
The agent thought I was a connoisseur; someone of refined tastes and an eye for quality.
Which, of course, I am.
And you could say, I do enjoy a ruby red claret.
So why not come over, sample my hospitality?
I’ll keep a space on the rack for you.
TURA
Wine
———
When the wine has been drunk, the bottle is discarded.
When a teaching comes into the world, it comes in a bottle, that being the individuality of the teacher, the time and place where he appears, and the types that he draws to himself.
One day, the teacher is gone, for such people live and die as do we all. The wine poured out, his students thereafter venerate the empty bottle, worshipping the dead husk of his teaching.
Those who would discard the bottle and seek the source of the living wine that he brought are driven away as heretics.
NORVAL JOE
The chief handed Mrs. Blanketmaker a slip of paper. “Here’s an Air BnB we’ve rented for you. It’s called ‘The Wine and Cheese, if You Please’ bed and breakfast. Apparently, they have a deal with a local winery and stock the place with a bunch of little sample bottles of wine and all the cheese and crackers you can eat. And you can stay as long as you need to find a new place.”
Billbert’s hopes lifted. “You mean we don’t have to move away?”
The chief winked at him. “Not yet, anyway. There’s still work to do right here.”
JARED
Anticipation
After their week in San Francisco, James was anxious to get to Napa. You could say it had been a whirlwind, his and Natalie’s courtship. He couldn’t help but smile to himself, thinking of how far they had come.
He breathed a little more easily once they had cleared the Golden Gate Bridge and were headed past Sausalito. He was never comfortable driving over bridges.
As he continued driving, he began to realize – he was still anxious. Not because of a bridge, but because of the little box in his coat pocket. And because of Natalie’s answer to his question…
PLANET Z
Never conduct a seance with a cheap bottle of wine.
Or candles. Or dishes.
You need the finest of everything to summon spirits.
The cheaper the placesettings and decorations, the weaker the gateway you will make between worlds.
And, should you manage to summon something from beyond, the harder it will be to send them back.
So, should you get lucky and entice a greater demon from the pits of hell to your living room with paper plates and Mad Dog 20, well done.
Not that I would call you lucky, seeing as you’re going to be stick with him.
Young elephants
A pack of young elephants will cause all kinds of trouble.
But if you introduce them to an adult elephant, the adult will whip them into shape pretty quickly, and the young elephants will behave.
They say the same thing is true with young people.
They can get into a lot of trouble on their own.
But if you let an adult elephant loose on them, the elephant will trample them to death.
Sure, they won’t get into any more trouble. You know, being dead and all.
But you’ll be in trouble for letting an elephant trample them to death.
Run away and join
When the circus comes to town, kids dream of running away from their boring, ordinary lives.
The clowns, the animals, the acrobats, the sights and smells…
Billy was sick of them all, the train coming to a stop, rolling off the equipment and carts, setting up the tents.
Then running the same show, over and over, before packing it all up and going to the next town.
Billy ran away and joined a town.
Houses… built on the ground!
A school! Teaching math and grammar! Such amazing things!
Left behind, his heartbroken mother, tears flowing into her luxurious black beard.
When Spring comes to Texas
Winter doesn’t last long in Texas.
Neither does Spring.
Summer comes, and then, a blazing hell that drives us all indoors for months and months.
The flowers that bloomed so beautifully will dry, wither, rot, and fall.
Go ahead. Water them.
Maybe they’ll last another day or two.
Or maybe they’ll rot faster.
What the hell do you know about plants anyway?
Another powder. Another formula. Another device.
Another strain of that plant or grass.
They don’t do anything.
Well, okay… they just make the weeds grow thicker.
It’s okay. There’s always next year.
When Spring returns to Texas again.
Buzz punch
A while back, some nutcase got in astronaut Buzz Aldrin’s face and yelled that the moon landing had been faked.
Buzz punched the guy in the face.
Maybe you’ve seen it?
Man, to be punched in the face by Buzz Aldrin. THE Buzz Aldrin.
I’d pay good money to get punched in the face by him.
People would probably pay to have him punch me in the face.
Fund a new moon mission with that money from all the people wanting me to get punched.
Unless they faked the face-punching, of course.
Then, I’m sure, Buzz would punch me anyway.
The deli
The war was over. Germany had lost.
And a lot of Berlin delicatessens who had named sandwiches after Hitler had to make some drastic menu changes in 1945.
“Hi, Franz.”
“Hi, Rolf. What’ll you have?”
“Oh, my usual. The Hitler.”
“Sorry, we call it the Hoagie now.”
“Is it still seven wheelbarrows of Reichmarks?”
“Yes, but cheese is one wheelbarrow extra.”
“So expensive!”
“No milk to make cheese. They had to shoot the cows.”
“Oh, so it is. Coleslaw comes with it?”
“That or potato salad.”
“Okay, fine.”
Instead of sandwich wraps and napkins, they used Reichmarks.
They were cheaper.
HR
So, if you like asking your HR staff insane questions, try this one: “If I built a robot that beats the Turing test, can I declare it as a dependent?”
If they say that you cannot declare robots as dependents, reply with “How do you KNOW that it’s a robot I keep in this cardboard box, and it’s not my son?”
They might respond “Why would you keep your son in a box?”
And you could say “Maybe he’s really ugly?
Or he’s shy?
Or really sensitive to light?”
I bet there’s a special form for that kind of thing.