A snack report = Short, but sweet, and so out of the norm.
2 DROPS of A314 shared by the wrist
2 DROPS of AE … 1 to each side of the neck, smeared all over and to the front of the neck.
Funeral/Background: Whenever I hear a friend, or friend of friends, or a family member of a friend, has passed in my old hometown, I’m there. There’s a female pallbearer, chocolate coated, late 40s, cute, rich … and yes, I’d do her, but this wasn’t the place nor time, at least, not for me. She may have had other plans. I see her often during funerals, 'cause her family gets most of the business in this one little town.
The funeral’s over. We’re sitting and eating. I’m done, and my plate was as clean as fresh picked roadkill by a team of 1000 buzzards! There are members of the church walking around with portable trashcans, taking empty plates off the table. CABOOM! There’s a soft breast against my left shoulder, accompanied by, “LET ME GET THIS PLATE FOR YOU, SINCE I’M GOING BACK.” I was so shocked, I didn’t have a comeback line ready. The plate was gone, and so ended my shoulder’s breast massage. I couldn’t even get out a ‘THANK YOU.’ She throws my plate in the trash, goes up and gets her a small plate of coleslaw, comes back, and sits beside me.
It was NOT HER JOB to clean the tables, and my plate was the ONLY one she took. ![]()
I wasn’t in the mood for FUNERAL MEAT, so Chatter! Chatter! Chatter! And that was that.
Sorry if I let anyone down, but sometimes you just like the peace and quiet of just having your hook in the water, and not having to deal with the fish. ![]()
ZEE END