Pooch Screwed; Mooner Too


So. My annual display of appreciation for the women in my life dinner was last Friday night. I should say it was scheduled for last Friday because it didn’t happen. One-by-one, my appreciated ladies canceled on me until it was just Squirt, SAC Ellen and me for dinner.

Anyway, Squirt had chosen Vivo as the site of the dinner, and since Vivo doesn’t serve Carta Blanca beer, the two of us decided to get our Carta Blanca on before departing for Vivo. We were drinking our second beer when the calls to cancel started coming in. First was Gram, calling from College Station, to tell me that she was not going to make it.

“Got myself detailed, Mooner, with a Aggie cadet. Found him down to the dirty bookstore on South Lamar, cut him out a tha herd, and took im back ta his dorm.” Then she added, “Sorry I’m missin yer presheatin dealie, Mooner, but I’m kinda tied up here.”

“Don’t you mean you got derailed and you won’t make it to dinner, Gram?”

I had to ask.

“Nope, grandson, meant detailed. This boy’s got him one a them clean fet-shitsies, er whateverthafuck, an I’m so clean I’m a whistling.”

“Well don’t hurt him, Gram. And have a good time.”

Next to cancel were Sister and Anna the Amazon. “Got invited to a dinner party at you-know-who’s house, big brother. Sorry to bomb out last minute, but you know we’ve been angling for this dinner a long time.”

“Yea, I know. You two have a good time.” The unnamed person throwing the dinner is a big lesbian mover and shaker here in Austin, and the two lesbians in my life have wanted this invitation for a long time.

So, one-by-one, cancellations. I set my newly-opened third beer on the counter and went to the bathroom. When I got there, I saw that Gnat had placed my new Oprah Magazine on the rack. So I sat and started reading, and forgot about the Squirt.

When I finished reading and returned to the kitchen, Dr. Sam I. Am’s little puppy was on the counter– sitting in a pool of spilled beer, lapping and belching.

“Oh, fuck me running, Squirt. We’ve screwed the pooch this time. Let’s clean this mess and get you into the shower.”

I put her in the shower with the cold water running in a full spray, cleaned the beer off the counter and started a pot of coffee. When the coffee was ready, I filled a bowl, added sugar and extra cream like Squirt likes it, and got her out of the bath.

“Osh min Gott, Meeshhh shure Mooner. Mine brain ish broke.”

She was wobbly on her feet as I dried her with a soft terrycloth towel. “Your brain isn’t broken, pumpkin. You’re drunk. I’ve got the broken brain for leaving my beer unattended.”

So, now it’s down to SAC Ellen and me at Vivo. I put Squirt to bed and we drove to the cafe. But after we sat down we were surprised when Delores and her husband showed, and later her sister joined us. Our waitress was Kristen, another of Vivo’s quality staff, and we enjoyed our meal as always. When she brought the roses to the three ladies after dinner– ladies always get an after-dinner rose, I asked Kristen, I said, “What about me?”

For you,” she said with a dangerous look in her too-pretty eyes, “I’ve got something special.”

Now me, a man in a monogamous relationship, I’m both enjoying the mystery of the promise and the fear of danger. Kristen’s eyes were bewitching, but death by angry federal agent would be a bitch. I was saved when the ladies at my table took a bathroom break, passing Kristen as she came back to the table.

I caught her eyes as she approached. Her hand was behind her back and the look on her face was pure, evil delight. I’m thinking to my self, I thought, “I have totally fucked this deal eight ways from Sunday. Kristen thinks the SACster is my daughter and I’ve got a problem.”

Kristen saddled up beside me and gave me that sexy, teasing look that sexy women perfect. Now I’m sweating, wondering what my big surprise might be, thinking of how I might have cake and eat it too, and trying to sort things out.

“Close your eyes and hold out you hand, Mr. Johnson.”

Maybe it won’t hurt so bad if I don’t see what I can’t have. I shut my eyes tight and extended my hand palm up. At the same time she places a book in my hand Kristen’s warm breath whispers in my ear, “I can separate that bill if you want, sir, but you always pick up the tab.”

Another Catch-22, dilemma kind of dealie. I hate when I’m glad that I’m disappointed.

Manana, y’all.

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