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July 9, 2010

Title Less Entry: Part I

Snow; small, crisp and biting flung itself at Jeremy’s face like angry insects. The northern wind howled through the trees and the empty streets of the small town, but he had seen worse. The small hard particles of snow that were almost ice were sometimes easier to see through and drive in than the heavy, snow globe like flakes that normally fall earlier in the winter.

Jeremy hugged the doorway of a squat mercantile building trying to stay out of the weather as much as possible, he didn’t want to be seen either. He huffed hot air from his lungs across the lenses of his high powered binoculars and used a small eyeglass cleaning cloth to wipe the steam and the small melting bits of snow from the special made glass. When he was sure that the condensation was cleaned completely away he raised the scopes to his eyes and swept the view to a small apartment above the garage of the Masons’ home.

Busying herself with her meager dinner preparations, Michelle hummed tunelessly and danced a little to the music she had stuck in her head. She swept chopped spinach, chicken flavored couscous, grape tomatoes, lentils and some olive oil into a small bowl. She smiled at her verbal cat, Herman, as he yowled at her. Michelle liked to think that Herman was merely singing along, so she cha-cha’d and made a pivot and Herman yowled again. “Pretty good for a white girl, huh Herms?” The cat purr-chirped at her and she tossed a small grape tomato near his full food bowl. Herman pounced on the tomato, swatted it under the cabinet and turned to Michelle, yowling like he was being starved to death. “See? I knew you didn’t like tomatoes.” She playfully mocked her cat.

The light coming through the semi-transparent curtains above the two car garage showed a woman, brunette, tall and athletic, talking to someone Jeremy couldn’t see. She was clearly fixing dinner for one and singing to something on the radio. He couldn’t see her face, but saw her hand gestures as she spoke. As she moved her hips and stirred whatever was in the bowl, Jeremy second guessed his acceptance of the job he had taken.

One week earlier he had been sitting in his comfortable recliner looking over his empty appointment book and the equally empty checkbook, stealing from Peter to pay Paul when his phone rang. The party on the other end offered him a job, good money and more importantly, the job was local. Well, sort of local. One more expense he wouldn’t have to pay out of pocket to be reimbursed for. There was only one catch. He would have to go back to his home town.

Arriving on schedule Jeremy checked into the local one story motel on the highway and started checking around looking for the person that his temporary boss wanted found. He didn’t know why the boss was looking for a white female, Michelle (last name unknown), to know her status, her whereabouts, whom she was seeing, what she was doing to make a living and the rest of the gamut. Jeremy really didn’t care, it was a job… and he cared even less when a cashier’s check for a hefty retainer showed up via courier mere hours after he had accepted the work.

Jeremy had been following leads on this Michelle person for the past two days. He knew she was single, he knew she worked as a day shift waitress for the diner just across the way and he knew she had a meager income and was living above the Mason’s garage in the one bedroom rental. What he didn’t know was what she looked like. Keeping out of sight while he followed her trail had proved to be very fortunate, but now he was curious. He knew how she carried herself as he had been in the diner and had followed her long dark ponytail and her perfect posture down the street to her modest apartment. And now he was hiding almost in plain view across the street watching her make her evening meal.

The biggest thrill and almost masochistic reason he took the job was because he knew this town like the back of his hand. He knew the diner where Michelle worked; he knew the general store and the alcove in which he was hiding. He knew the Masons, had played football with their son when they had gone to high school together. He had left for the bright lights of Chicago when he turned eighteen and had only returned once, to attend the double funeral of his parents who had died in a car wreck when he was twenty-three.

Finding Michelle wasn’t the hard part. Staying out of sight and unnoticed by townspeople who would recognize him was.

July 29, 2010

The List

Y'all. I can not make this stuff up.

My divorce was final on June 1st and this morning (it's about 9 am) I got this email from my mother.

The email was titled, "The List" and ..... well here, I'll just let you see for yourselves.

"OK, Sue, you still have time to make it 47* years with Mr. Right!! Here is the list:

Criteria for men:
Similar background
White (WASP)
Similar education
Good job
Not many kids to support
Family person
Fun, cool, likes dancing, going out and music

Steer clear of:
Guys with no ambition (Slackers---Dad’s word)
Someone with a load of baggage
Someone you would be ashamed of
Someone who is a mooch or owes a lot of money
Someone who does not pay YOU attention ----put you on a pedestal
Someone who wants you to support him or be “his Mama”
Someone who lives with his mama
Guys who goes from one to the other----“ladies men” or cheaters
Guy who drinks too much----problems!!

Good luck!! Don’t date anyone over twice you would not marry!!

I love you!! MOM"

#1 Notice that they left women off the list. Bar's open ladies! WOO WOOO!

#2 *Apparently I am going to die when I am 85. Don't jack with my momma, she's witchy like that.

#3 Heh. God, I love my parents.

Have a good weekend y'all, I know I will. Now, where're all the White (WASP-y) women at?

About July 2010

This page contains all entries posted to Suzanna Danna in July 2010. They are listed from oldest to newest.

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