BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

Some of you have been asking how the “Coffee Talk” blog went over with my “College Girlfriends.” Well, I have to say, it seems that it went over well. Mindy shall be remaining Mindy, unless we slip and call her Muffy, which could possibly happen. I mean after all, the last day of classes she did haul off and show up wearing an alligator embellished polo shirt and packing a shopping bag from Whole Foods Market. However, the bag and its contents are fodder for a different blog. The point I am trying to make here is that we don’t have to call her Miffy (yet). She actually got a good laugh out of the “Coffee Talk” entry, as did Karen.

In fact, the two of them found it even more amusing than I had imagined they would… As in Laugh Out Loud funny… To the point of calling friends, relatives, and even writing to their congressmen to tell them they should read it.

Some of them did, and I now have a senator calling for an investigation of me. Something to do with “illegally purveying satire to the humor challenged.” I’m not quite sure how that is going to pan out, but I’m not really allowed to talk about it at the moment. All I can say is that my attorneys, Dewey, Cheatham, and Howe are on the case.

At any rate, much to my delight, because of a single entry on Brainpan Leakage, my college girlfriends effectively provided me with even more blog fodder…

Mindy topped the stairs, plodded across the mezzanine, then plopped down in her chair at the C4K “Coffee Talk” table. As she leaned back and slid down in the seat she let out an exasperated sigh.

Karen looked over at me, then at Mindy. “So, did you get a gun yet?”

“No,” Mindy replied, brushing off the gun reference as old hat.

“West county people,” Karen grumbled, shaking her head.

I picked up my cell phone from the table and checked the time. Mindy was actually running a bit late. We’d expected her a good ten minutes ago. Not only that, she didn’t look to be her usual Mindyish self. By that I mean, no polo, no sweater tied around her neck, no pearls, no Star-Make-A-Bucks… Nada… As a matter of fact, she was wearing a baggy t-shirt, her hair was pulled back into a short tail and the rest was covered with a baseball cap. I  studied the uncharacteristic look for a moment, then laid the cell phone back onto the table and nodded toward my newly arrived girlfriend.

“Casual Thursday?” I asked.

She sighed again. “You just wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had.”

I expressed an appropriate modicum of concern. “Anything wrong?”

“Can’t be much,” Karen grunted. “She’s sittin’ in her chair.”

“But look at her…” I replied. “I mean, slum city here…”

“Hey!” Mindy objected.

Karen gave her head a dismissive shake. “Finally dressing normal for a change. Besides, she still doesn’t have a gun. If it was real trouble she’d have a gun.”

Mindy tapped her fingers hard on the table. “Hey! I’m right here you two. I can hear you, you know.”

I turned my attention back to our disheveled cohort. “Yeah, okay, so what gives? Why the bad day?”

She breathed heavily. “Well, you know that blog you wrote?”

“Yeah,” I said with a nod, a bit of concern now creasing my forehead. “I thought you liked it?”

“Oh, I did,” she told me with a typical, animated Mindy nod.

“She still shoulda shot that idiot who was using the expired milk,” Karen mumbled.

“So what’s the problem?” I asked Mindy, leaving Karen to complain to herself.

“Well, I told several of my friends they should read your blog.”

“Okay…” I said, waiting for the other shoe.

“So, two of them emailed me about it,” she explained.

“How many did you tell?”

“Everyone in my email address book.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Roughly how many is that? I’m assuming more than two?”

“Not many,” she told me with a shake of her head. “Only three thousand four hundred and twelve people.”

“I see.” I shrugged. “But only two responded, so that’s your issue?”

“I’m still waiting on the others. The issue is what they said.”

“Okay, so did the two that wrote back to you hate it or something?”

“If they did, just shoot ’em,” Karen offered.

“You know, Karen,  everyone who reads my blog thinks you’re that killer woman on Burn Notice,” I said, glancing over at Big K.

“You mean the hottie with the gun?” she asked.

“I dunno,” I replied. “I’ve never seen it myself.”

Karen nodded and grinned. “I saw a commercial. Yeah. I can be her. I’m good with that.”

“Can we get back to my problem?” Mindy appealed.

“Yeah, yeah,” I said with a nod. “You’re right. So what’s the deal? Whaddid they say?”

“That’s just it. Not much. One of them said, ‘ewwww, what did corporate say?‘ And the other one just said, ‘what did corporate say?‘.”

“No ewwww on the second one?” I asked.

“That’s not my point.”

“Did you…” Karen started.

Mindy cut her off, “No Karen, I didn’t shoot them.”

“You should have.”

I shrugged again. “Okay, so what’s the problem?”

“These are funny people,” she replied. “They both have a great sense of humor. But all they focused on was wanting to know what the Star-Make-A-Buck’s Corporate Office said.”

“Are you sure they’re actually funny?” I asked. “Sometimes it’s easy to mistake an attack of gas for a smile you know. They could just be digesting some serious roughage or something.”

“I was pretty sure they were funny,” Mindy told me with a shrug. “But now I just don’t know. I think maybe they just didn’t get the joke.”

“What is it with you West county people?” Karen asked. “Not getting jokes that even a three year old can understand. Is something in the water out there affecting your brains?”

“Karen!” Mindy admonished.

“Hey, I’m just sayin’,” Karen replied with a shrug. “So… You want me to shoot ’em for you?”

I still don’t know if Mindy has heard back from any more of her friends, and I haven’t seen any news reports featuring Karen barricaded in her chair with a gun, so I’m pretty sure things are okay. Still, I hope Mindy remembers to let me know if she does hear any more from her funny friends.

I suppose it all depends on that West county water.

More to come…

Murv

“Awww, just shoot ’em,” Karen said.

It was an interesting response to spoiled milk, but hey, we all have our own take on life, correct? What? You don’t understand what I’m talking about? Well, I suppose I can see where the above might be a little confusing. How about if I back up a bit and see if I can explain…

So, I have these two girlfriends…

No, not like that… Sheesh… Get your minds out of the gutter, please. What I am saying is that they are girls, and they are my friends, therefore they are my girlfriends. And, since they are my girlfriends we do girlfriend stuff… You know, we sit around drinking coffee (or soda, or water, or nothing) and generally gossip about whatever comes to mind.

Well, that’s as far as I take it, anyway, because I just have to draw a line in the sand when it comes to shoe shopping, painting my nails, or getting all googly eyed over Antonio Bandera Pitt DiCapriGereFord-McWhoever. Not that there’s anything at all wrong with that. In fact, it’s healthy in a lot of ways. However, I’d much rather get all googly eyed over E K. (I’d
throw some actress’ names out there but I’m still recovering from the last beating The Evil Redhead gave me, and I’m not sure how much my insurance can handle right now…)

But, back to my girlfriends. We’ll call them Karen and Mindy. Not their real names for reasons of anonymity, of course. Also not my original pick for pseudonyms either. I actually wanted to call them Karen and Brenda, but girlfriend #2 didn’t like Brenda, so I have to call her Mindy. She was almost Muffy, but we won’t go there. Although, when she shows up doing the whole sweater arms tied around her neck, sunglasses on top of her head, and Star-make-a-bucks cup in her hand, she definitely looks like a Muffy… Or even a Buffy.

But, Buffy starts with a B, and that makes it too close to Brenda, so I think we’ll just stick with Mindy. Of course, after she reads this we might end up calling her Miffy.

I guess we’ll see.

Now that we have that settled… (sigh)

So anyway, here’s the thing. I only get to see Karen and Mindy for two weeks out of each calendar year. One straight week during the summer, and 5 consecutive Saturdays during the winter. I’m sure you are wondering why this is… I mean, if I were you I would certainly be wondering.

Well, I’ll tell you… It’s like this. Karen and Mindy are my College girlfriends, and by that I don’t mean we went to college together, because we didn’t. You see, twice each year I take the O-Spring out to one of the local community college campuses for “College for Kids” classes.

Yeah, as I’ve rambled on about before, my kid is utterly brilliant. Yes, I’m sure yours is too, but mine is more brillianter. (Yes, I know that’s grammatically incorrect. Remember, I’m a word on paper putting type person what make those things with words and stuff what tell things like… umm.. stories.. yeah… that’s it… So, I’m a professional… Therefore you should NOT try bending the English language over the dining room table at home without proper training. It’ll just get messy.)

Either way, back to this college thing… My kid is utterly brilliant, and so is Mindy’s kid and Karen’s grandkid. Therefore, because of this whole “College for Kids” thing it makes us college friends. Not “The Big Chill” sort of college friends, mind you, but college friends nonetheless.

Of course, once again I can tell that y’all are wondering how this all came about. Well, it’s pretty simple, actually. Parents of gifted kids will often seek one another out and come together to share notes. Important things like, “Who should I call when my kid clones the neighbor’s dog using only a PlaySkool Pretend Doctors Kit and a Dora The Explorer juice tumbler?” or “So, how do you handle it when your kid builds a supercollider out of Legos and aluminum foil and creates a God particle in your living room?”

See what I mean?  Really important crap…

And so, anyway, this friendship developed between Karen, Mindy, and yours truly. There’s even a particular corner on the second floor of the Science West building where we park ourselves around a table and chit chat – remember, I said no to the shopping – while we wait for the kids to finish their classes each day. This corner actually used to be my special quiet place. I would take my notebook computer with me, sit on the back side of the table, and write (we writers do that sort of stuff.) However, one day Mindy found me and, well, whenever I am on the campus I simply haven’t been able to get any work done since. She won’t allow it. But, that’s just part of Mindy’s charm.

And, yes, you guessed it – as it happens, this particular August week it is “College for Kids” week, and yeah, you guessed it again, I’ve been visiting with Karen and Mindy. That’s where guns and spoiled milk come into play.

There we were, talking about fast food and airports. (Hey, I said we talk about whatever comes to mind…) Anywhow, I had just finished telling about my bad Fuddrucker’s experience, how they had ponied up a gift card, and that I was impressed by their integrity. Mindy became wide-eyed and fidgety which was a sure sign she had her own story to tell.

Well, as signs go this one was pretty clear.

“So I was looking over the counter,” Mindy declared. “And I could see that the girl was using expired milk for my latte…”

Karen piped up. “Did’ja shoot her?”

Mindy looked horrified. “No.”

“You shoulda just shot ‘er,” Karen reiterated.

“Anyway,” Mindy continued. “I told her, ‘don’t use that in my latte, it’s expired,’ so she put it back in the refrigerator. You know she was going to use it for someone else, but since I was standing there watching she didn’t use it in mine.”

“Yeah,” I said, not entirely sure where this was going.

Mindy shook her head in an animated fashion as her eyes grew wider still. “Can you imagine that? Expired milk!”

“Was she running with scissors too?” I asked.

“No.”

“Okay, just wondering.”

“Shoulda just shot her,” Karen offered.

“So anyway,” Mindy said, ignoring Karen’s advice. “I kept watching and she started to put 2% milk in my latte. I mean, come on, 2% milk?!”

Karen grunted, “That’s what guns are for, you know…”

“So I said, ‘no, no, no you don’t’,” Mindy explained. “I only take skim milk in my latte. And do you know what she said?”

I shook my head. “Nope. I wasn’t there.”

“She said it was really skim milk, it just said 2% on it.”

“I’m tellin’ you, you shoulda just shot her,” Karen grumbled.

“So, what did you do?” I asked.

“I stepped away from the counter and called Star-Make-A-Bucks corporate office. I have them on my cell phone speed dial, of course…”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” I mused aloud.

Unfazed, Mindy continued. “…I told them that I was standing right there at the airport and that their employee was trying to use spoiled milk in my latte.”

“Awww, just shoot ’em,” Karen said.

I had always figured Karen for the non-violent type, I mean, what with her being pretty laid back. After all, she didn’t even object over her pseudonym like Mindy had, know what I mean? But her grumbling at this particular moment definitely wasn’t bearing that out.

“I couldn’t shoot her,” Mindy objected.

Karen sighed. “Why not? You forget your gun?”

“I don’t have a gun.”

“See,” Karen said, clucking her tongue. “There’s the problem.”

“What do you think, Murv?” Mindy appealed.

I shrugged. “Karen has a point. If you don’t have a gun you can’t shoot the girl with the expired milk.”

“See there,” Karen announced, then lowered her voice to a grumble. “M R agrees with me… You West county people make me tired. I think when I get home I’m just going to sit in my chair.”

After that, we talked about squirrels. Sounds like a good time, eh?

All I can say is I’m glad our kids are brilliant, because I think maybe the three of us have gone the way of the expired milk.

More to come…

Murv