BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

Continued From Food. It’s Not Really That Hard…

Kerchunk, kabloop, fribble, kerchunk, ecky-ptwang… (Gratuitous Wayback Machine noises)

Okay, here we are. If you are JUST NOW joining us, you have some catching up to do… Or should that be chasing forward? After all, this started in 2011 and now here we are in 2008 and… Well… Umm… Well anyway, should it be the case that you don’t know what’s going on here, go back… err… spring forward…  Oh hell, just go read the $750.00 Later… and Food. It’s Not Really That Hard… entries. Otherwise, you are going to be lost and the rest of us aren’t going to come looking for you. It wouldn’t do any good anyway, because I’m leading this expedition and obviously I’m lost myself…

Okay, everybody ready? Good. Here we go…

Way, way, wayyyyyyy back in 2008, I was booked to do the very first OstaraFest. Everything was cranking along just fine – in fact, I wasn’t even ill – but then, something changed. That being, my handler’s ability to feed me. My handler that year was Lolly. She was to see to it that I arrived where I needed to be, when I needed to be there, and that I had things like water, food, my shots, got let out to pee, got taken for a walk… you know, the standard handler stuff. Truth is, I’m a fairly easy guest author to get along with. However, I do need to be fed every now and then, even though I’m a fat guy.

Long story short, however, Lolly kept forgetting to feed me. She saw to it that I was where I needed to be, when I needed to be there, that’s for sure. She even made sure I had pens, a place to sit, an orderly line for the fans who wanted to get books signed… But food… Well, that just didn’t seem to work out.

Finally. Food. I really look like I'm wasting away, don't I?

Fast forward (because the Wayback Machine just takes too long) to 2010. I was scheduled for OstaraFest again. Lolly decided that if I was going to be fed she was going to have to hand me off to someone else – Therefore, Doug, her husband took over. For Doug, coffee and beer are food groups. This was perfectly fine with me. Apparently, it was NOT perfectly fine with Lolly. She made it a point to be photographed handing me a hotdog so that I could no longer say she hadn’t fed me. It was a good hotdog. Not as good as the beer, but hey, it was still good. (BTW – this was also the year I was introduced to Butch’s breakfasts, as Doug and I would make the trip over the river and through the woods in the opposite direction each morning in order to have breakfast at “Butch’s Home Diner”…) So I was really all set – a made to order breakfast that will keep you going all day, coffee, and BEER…

But as I said, Lolly didn’t see it that way…

Fast forward once again to OstaraFest 2011… After a full day on Saturday, where I did an address, a roundtable discussion, a seminar, signed 42 bazillion books, visited with folks, and was chased around the VFW Hall by “Bouncy Brandi” (remember her?), we all went out to dinner at “Old Chicago Pizzeria.”

For The Purpose Of Illustration Only: NOT ACTUAL Bouncy Brandi Hooker Shoes

Upon arrival, all eleven thousand and three of us gathered around a football field of tables. Somehow or another – I suspect by careful arrangement on her part – I was positioned directly across from “Bouncy Brandi”. After ordering, while we waited for the food, “BB” kept showing me pictures on her phone… Apparently she wanted me to know just exactly what was available to me for $750.00 – right down to the stack heeled, burgundy, Mary Jane hooker shoes she was planning to wear.

I have to admit, these were some pretty sharp shoes. Worth $750.00? I dunno… But they were definitely some hot lookin’ girl shoes.

So anyway, food arrived… Well… some of it. You see, everyone at the table received their food, except moi. Srsly. Eventually the server returned and asked if there was anything else we needed.

I said, “Ummm… My food?”

She went to check. Apparently it was still cooking, which is restaurant speak for “somebody f*cked up and we’re scrambling to put it together as fast as we can right now.”

All good. I was in no hurry. Ten minutes passed. Fifteen minutes passed. When it hit twenty-five minutes, Joyce excused herself from the table. A moment later, Mike, “Bouncy Brandi’s” husband, excused himself as well. I tried to get him to stay because I was really, really afraid of being left alone with that much perkiness sitting across from me.

Before long they returned. Seconds later, the server and the manager came rushing out the door with my dinner. For free. Then they gave me something like a quarter of a cheesecake. For free. And they bought me a drink. (yes, for free)… All the while they apologized profusely and gave Joyce and Mike a very wide berth. Apparently they had burned down a portion of the restaurant while explaining to the management that I was a world famous author who had been waiting for his food for 93 days, and that I would be killing them all in my next novel… Or something along that line. I never did hear the full story. I just saw the smoke, heard the screaming, and then ate my pizza.

The cheesecake? I gave it to Brandi, hoping to placate her and avoid the whole $750 thing… Well, that and the fact that Dave, who was sitting next to me, had looked over and said, “You know, after all the grief they just gave them, that’s probably a piece of sneezecake, not cheesecake.”

Of course, if that isn’t enough proof that Texas doesn’t want me to eat… well… it doesn’t end there.

However, for that, you need to tune in next time…

To Be CONCLUDED in The Girl, The Shoes, And The $750… coming 4/3/11…

More to come…

Murv

Continued from $750.00 Later…

Now, at this particular juncture, I am certain that some of you – mostly the male readers, though not all I’m sure – are just dying to know about the hottie in the hooker shoes…

Well, you see, it’s like this… She was a Goth nurse for the RAF back in WWII. Yes… She was way ahead of her time as far as fashion trends go… But anyway, I had been dropped behind enemy lines. Problem is, they forgot to give me a parachute. Fortunately, I bounce.

I was on a mission to steal Hitler’s mustache. Unfortunately, there was an ambush and I was horribly wounded… The bouncing hadn’t helped, trust me. After crawling for 40 days and 40 nights through muddy trenches and seedy Schnitzel Dens, surviving on what little beer and potato salad I could manage to steal undetected, I finally gave in to exhaustion. When I eventually awoke, I was in a hospital bed and the first thing I saw was…

Okay, enough of that crap.

At any rate, we finished dinner while Joyce handled the crisis on the phone. The crisis being the $750.00. What about it? I’m not going to tell you yet.

So… Where was I? Oh yeah… So anyway, the next day, following more doctoring from Joyce, I was treated to a driving tour of Fort Hood by Butch (remember Butch, Joyce’s husband? Good…) who also happened to be my official “handler” for the weekend, and a guy who can fix up one hell of a breakfast. Let me tell ya’, Butch saw to it that I started the day out right, with everything from Santa Fe Omelets, to French Toast, Biscuits, Bacon, Sausage, and all the trimmings. In short, the rest of the country of Texas could take a few lessons from Butch where food is concerned.

Following the tour I did a meet and greet at the store proper. This is where I came face to face with “Bouncy Brandi” the perkiest non-blonde I’ve ever met. I had heard plenty about her already, especially her price tag – remember that phone call about the $750? But we’ll get to that eventually…

Later that evening we gathered at Lolly Central, out on the range, so to speak. Srsly. I kid you not, the directions to get to Lolly and her husband Doug’s house are, Take the highway, go over the river, through the woods, turn off onto the gravel road, then turn off onto the dirt road.

Not kidding.

So, anyhow, we had a BBQ that couldn’t be beat – Chicken, brisket, salmon, and all sorts of trimmings, along with beer. I met and had a chance to chat for a moment or two with Dr. Steven Farmer, the other author guest speaker for the event. Very nice guy with all kinds of interesting things to talk about. During all of this Joyce was still doctoring me with the “Skunk Jooce” and “Healer Tea.”

My buddy Althie, the crazy German woman of Texas, who has been promising me sauerbraten was there too. Guess what? She didn’t bring me any sauerbraten. But that’s okay. She’s been really busy, and she did the next best thing – she brought me the necessary pre-packaged fixin’s, straight from Germany, to prepare my own sauerbraten and Knödel. Just add beef. So, I’ll be whomping that up in the very near future…

But back to the hooker shoes…

During all of this, “Bouncy Brandi” leans over to me and says, “Just so you know, I was really nervous about meeting you. So… for you, $750.00…”

“What?” I asked.

“$750.00,” she replied, all matter-of-fact and businesslike.

Since her husband was sitting just across from me I said to him, “Dude… I think your wife just propositioned me.”

“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “She’s like that. No worries though, we need to finance a room addition so we could use the extra cash.”

“But… $750?” I asked.

Bouncy Brandi leaned over again and said, “Hey, I’m giving you a discount because you’re my second favorite author. Best $750.00 in Texas right here…”

That’s me, ya’know. Always second fiddle to someone.

I told her to let me think about it, because I really wasn’t sure what E K would think of me spending that much money on a perky Goth nurse from WWII.

“Okay,” she said. “But don’t wait too long, or the price goes up.”

…And not a lick of that has anything to do with why this particular entry is called, “Food. It’s Really Not That Hard…” To understand that, we have to jump into the wayback machine and set the dials to OstaraFest 2008…

To Be Continued in Lolly, Lolly, Lolly… coming March 30, 2011…

More to come…

Murv