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One Night Stand


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One Night Stand

A Note From Joy

BOOB Girl Talk for your groups

New Offers in The BOOB Girl Series

 

“This is the best cheese platter you’ve ever done, Hadley,” Mary Rose McGill said, picking out a nice-sized piece of Cheddar and putting it on her plate, along with a Havarti and two Swiss. She topped it off with six large soda crackers.


They were in Alphonso’s office, sunlight streaming in through his huge windows. Outside a nest full of tiny sparrows were chirping for their own lunch and mom and dad were flying back and forth with food, zooming in and out of the tree as fast as they could.


Robbie and Raven were sitting on Alphonso Greatwood’s big black couch. Robinson Leary had a glass of Pinot Grigio, and Raven Five Horns was nursing a beer. One long leg clad in a snakeskin boot was resting on his other thigh. Wiley Vondra, with a matching beer, was seated at a glass table. The comfortable red chair next to him was saved for Mary Rose. The entire room was in Kansas City Chief décor, and even Alphonso blended in with his red KC Chief, sweater. He was comfortable in his overly expensive desk chair pulled around in front of his desk and facing the table and couch. Marge Aaron, retired homicide detective, was standing, looking out the big window, watching cars make their way up to street to Methodist Hospital.


“We are a sick, sick nation in so many ways,” Marge said. Hadley Morris Whitfield walked over, a wine glass in each hand - one for her, one for Marge – and stood beside her.


“How so?” she asked.


“Every hospital I drive by has an overflowing parking lot,” Marge replied, taking one glass. “And we are sick spiritually, too. I was on the street with a badge for too long not to know killers are made, not born.” They knew she was thinking about the killing of the little kids in Texas.


“For now,” Hadley said, “come sit and tell us what you’ve found out about our newest mystery, Cyreel Schmeel.”


Cyreel was a one-eyed, stocky, lecherous new resident at Meadow Lakes Retirement Community whose wife, Zoomer Schmeel was missing as far as the BOOB Girls were concerned. He had commandeered her wooden leg, put it on the roof and she had gotten revenge by lacing his prune juice with motor old. It had been a cheap, internal cleanse and he had lived in the bathroom for three days.


“Robbie has the latest,” Marge said. She and Hadley walked to the table and sat down with Wiley and Mary Rose. They sat their wine gasses down and reached for plates and the cheese platter.



Robbie pulled her computer out of the beautiful leather case Raven had given her, sat it on her lap and fired it up.


“He’s been on a senior dating site,” Robbie announced. “And it is rich. Here are some from other elderly gentlemen.”


She scrolled through the site and began to read, “Dude with high mileage and original teeth looking for good flosser to share steaks, sweetcorn and caramel candy.”


She looked around. They were smiling at her.


“Here’s one. ‘Man, 1932, still has some hair, matching white shoes and belt. Can still drive at night.”


They laughed.


“Gentleman, loves to dance, can remember Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday. If you are good with Friday, Saturday, Sunday, let’s put our heads together.”


“What does he plan to do with Thursday?” Wiley asked.


“Here’s my favorite,” Robbie read on. “Wanted: one night stand. May need two. Have two lamps.”


“Is that for real?” Mary Rose asked.


“And here,” Robbie said, looking around to get attention, “here, is Cyreel’s. ‘Looking for a deep, meaningful overnight relationship.’”


They looked at her.


There was a silence, a sipping of drinks and Mary Rose picked out another piece of Cheddar.


“If he’s married, why is he on a senior dating site?” she said, popping the cheese into her mouth.


“That,” Marge commented, “is the question. Just where is Zoomer Schmeel?”


(the mystery continues…)


Please read A Note from Joy

 

A Note From Joy


We’ll have fun with the girls and Zoomer Schmeel. Here, I’m going to get personal.


In the last Notes I urged you to write to all your elected officials and urge common sense gun laws. Pat, a true BOOB Girl, wrote back that she had also emailed the NRA and RNC. A dear of friend reminded me of a couple of quotes today. Example: “I prayed for the safety of our children. Oh God,” I said, “keep them safe from the shooters.”


And God said, “Okay. Just remember, I have to do it through you.”


As Marge said, “Killers are made, not born.” We, the grandmothers, have to be heard. We wouldn’t change our grandchildren for the world. We must change the world for our grandchildren.


Another thought – when you think about how an AR15 can blow up a bear, you can imagine how it blew apart little kids in a bight, happy schoolroom. In your prayers, remember the funeral directors and the embalmers.


 

Three Specials:

1. One BOOB Girls Birds Poster:

Janet found one lonely poster (size of a small movie poster) by Jim Campbell of the BOOB Girls as birds. From Left to right: Esmeralda St Benedict, Maggie Patten, You (because there is always room for one more at Table 12, Mary Rose McGill, Robinson Leary, Marge Aaron, Hadley Joy Morris-Whitfield, Patty Whack. And below is Marge’s red cane and the evil Finigan Farquer peering around the tree and “lurking.”


First one to respond saying you want it gets it for $30.


2. Any Six Books for $60.

Take your pick, first six, last six, mix and match. A great way to start a collection or fill in the missing ones.


3. An idea for a very special gift.

We will send a BOOB Girl book from you to a friend who needs a laugh. Do this now, from this blog. It will be a perfect gift.


Send check to Joy Brown at

8141 Farnam, #322, Omaha NE 68114


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