A gal I've known since grade school called me this afternoon to ask if I'd like to get together for lunch tomorrow, to talk about the old days....
OK, before I begin, if you've not read any of my other stories, you may be unaware that no woman I have ever known EVER calls me to ask me to go to lunch, to talk about old times with her, or any goddamned thing else. No woman who's known me for even 20 seconds ever wanted another go at me. It just doesn't happen, ever, Ever, EVER!
There is something this gal wants from me and, and even if I cannot figure out what it is, I'm smart enough to realize what she wants ain't me, not by a long shot.
Hells bells, I've known this gal since we were five or six; she never once indicated that I was any thing more recognizable to her than ringworm (which I had three times in grade school). So why is she calling me?
I called a friend over in Kanawha City who lives a couple doors down from this gal, and who went to school with the two of us. I asked him what the gal was up to these days and why she would be calling me to talk over old times? He told me "she was divorced, two or three times that he knew of," and although she had a well-deserved reputation for having "round heels," he couldn't imagine her being interested in a roll in the hay with me.
Well, fuck him!
I hung up and called another guy I knew who stilled lived in Kanawha City. I asked him what he knew about the woman, and he told me she was involved in a boundary dispute with her next door neighbor. And since I work at the state archives, he figured maybe she wanted me to find out something for her.
"Like what, how wide her lot is," I asked him?
"Damifiknow," he answered and he hung up. He has a life; why would he bother with me anyway.
Since she hadn't given me her phone number, I looked it up and I called her back, trying to get some idea of what it was she wanted from me.
"Hey I said," when she answered the phone. "It's me. What time did you want to meet for lunch?"
"Who the hell is this," she demanded.
I said "It's me, Frankie. You just called me to ask me to lunch to talk about old times. Like twenty minutes ago."
"Who is this," she asked me again.
"Frankie. Hey, you called me," I answered.
"Frankie who?"
"F-r-a-n-k-I-e, from grade school. You just called to ask me out to lunch to talk about old times," I said, very slowly.
"Why the hell would I call you. Why the hell would anyone call you," she said sarcastically before she hung up on me.
See, I told you no woman who knows me would call me. On the bright side, someone called me by mistake, and that woman is going to meet me for lunch tomorrow to talk about old times.
It might last all of 21 seconds, and that would be a new record for me... an improvement, if nothing else.
