To celebrate my 200th post the other day, I told people if they commented, I would create a new post explaining how we met. Of course, I explained, all the content would be a lie. (Especially since I don’t know most of the people who post on my blog.) So here it is: a piece of fiction to include everyone one of you who was brave enough to leave a comment. I hope you enjoy this brief digression, where I veered off-course — away from parenting and education — and went straight to fiction.
I would like to encourage people to click the highlighted names to see the work of any bloggers with whom you might not be familiar. In addition to being my cyber-friends, these people are truly great writers.
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Blackwatertown and I met on a chilly day in Bratislava as we fled hand-in-hand across an icy river. We’d had to spend an uncomfortable night hiding in a chicken coop because we couldn’t find a proper hotel. Covered in feathers and fowl feces, we carefully made our way across the creaky ice. I am forever grateful that he was wiling to share his single mitten.
Betsy W. and I met during our stint at Harvard Medical School at that cool bar where we stayed up late discussing the scaphoid, the lunate and the triquetrium. We bonded over our devotion to the fourteen phalanges.
I met Chrystal at a high-end mattress store in Savannah, Georgia where she insisted I bounce up and down at least 16 times on the Sealy to make sure the Posturepedic was really what I wanted. Of course she was right: the pillow top was too soft.
I met Ricky Anderson in 3rd grade after Chuck E. punched him in the nose on the playground. While the blood poured from his nostrils, I went in search of toilet paper to stop the oozing gush.
SaveSprinkles1234 and I met during the intermission of a really boring orchestra concert. We laughed as we met in the lobby and decided to grab a quick cup of chai and talk about the poor performance. Outside in the chilly air, Sprinkles found a cardboard box filled with abandoned kittens and insisted that she would take them all home and raise them up — and that’s exactly what she did.
Larisa and I met while we worked briefly as U.S. spies in the former Soviet Union. We were crammed inside a tiny airplane, trying to sneak into Tajikistan — under the radar, you might say. I’m probably not supposed to say that we were spies. I’m sorry, Larisa. I hope you are not a spy anymore. If you are, I have just put you into terrible danger.
Pauseandsmile and I in met at Bed, Bath & Beyond. She was clenching some fancy velvet covered hangers and told me they were well worth the investment.
I met Teri when a lost buzzard accidentally smashed against the front glass windows of her house. The ugly bird was decidedly dead, but Teri made me perform mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, just to be sure. It was very traumatic for everyone involved. Especially the dead buzzard, as it was early in the morning and I had not yet brushed my teeth.
While going through an odd stage in my life where I wanted to cover everything in platinum, I met E. Rumsey who helped me understand that while platinum is precious, it is not a good idea to try and cover one’s friends in the substance.
I met Amie the same day I met isrbrown. It was a warm spring morning and I had been churning butter at one of those old-fashioned country museums, talking about how everything was better in the good ole days when Amie picked up a brush began painting a fantastic mural on the floor and isrbrown sat down in a rocker and started knitting a cap. We churned and painted and knitted for hours until the good people from the museum brought us proper costumes — pretty dresses with fitted bodices and bonnets for our heads — so as to better fit in. Though we remain bitter that the museum people did not pay us for the work we did that day, we did enjoy playing dress-up.
JM Randolph was wandering around downtown SoHo smoking a cigar when some rogue ashes accidentally caught the sleeve of her shirt on fire. Hearing her screams, I pulled my ’75 Plymouth Volaré to the curb and drove her to the nearest hospital. Alas, JM proved to be extremely non-compliant and began scratching the nurses who were trying to help her. In an act of desperation, the doctors declawed her. Tragically, they removed every fingernail on JM’s right hand which is why she always wears one long white glove.
One day I was out pruning the rose bushes when I decided that I was going to give the most perfect bloom to the first person I saw passing by. And who do you think was the first person to roll by on her bike? Keenie Beanie! Okay, so I might have looked a little
funny scary chasing after her with my sharp gardening shears. In fact, now that I think about it, this could help explain why she was pedaling away with so much enthusiasm, but I did eventually catch up to her and ask her if she would accept my rose. She said she would take it. If I promised not to hurt her.
D’alta and MamaSauce got into it in 7th grade. The two best gymnasts in the class, they would not stop arguing over who could make more passes on the balance beam without falling off. They had been carefully walking for over three hours without showing any signs of slowing when Marshall came over from the boys’ side and pushed them off in one fell swoop — and that was the end of that.
Jean, Lisa and I shared a chisel as we tried to escape from after school detention. Looking back at it now, we should have chosen a quieter method.
Kasey went through a science stage where she liked to experiment with different chemicals. One day while I was at her house, she told he to lie down on the couch while she put a cloth over my nose and mouth. A short while later I awoke, slightly disoriented, and asked what had happened. She simply answered: “Well, I guess we know what Chloroform does.”
Deborah the Closet Monster and I met while working as dishwashers in a fast-food restaurant in 1985. Deb refused to wash dishes and mumbled continuously about “dish-soap mermaids.” Finally, Kathy – the manager — stepped in and told Deb that she needed to pull her weight or she’d be fired. In a single act of defiance, Deb tipped over a bucket of filthy mop-water, destroying Kathy’s pink legwarmers. We all laugh about it now. Right, you two?
One day, I zigged when I should have zagged and I accidentally ended up in the men’s room of a rather swanky restaurant. Thing is, I didn’t realize I was in the men’s room until I came out of the stall and saw someone… you know… standing there. I froze. My feet simply refused to turn back or go forward. Thank goodness Clay was such a good sport about the whole thing. After we washed our hands at the sinks, we left the bathroom together and had a good laugh about it. I never thought I’d ever see him again — but he turned out to be the beekeeper from whom we purchase our fresh honey. Small world, huh?
I met writerwoman61 at a Farmer’s Market while on vacation. She taught me how to select the freshest cucumbers and told me which vendors had the freshest goods. She also told me I should always buy cucumbers in threes. So I do.
At one point, I entered myself in a LEGO building contest to see who could create the best creation. Hundreds of people were there, but Ray Colon stood to my left and Limr stood to my right. We each had 10 minutes to sketch and one hour to build. Limr created an amazing dragon with huge wings. Ray crafted a vehicle that morphed into a really tall tower. I made an emu that carried a jewel of enchantment on his back. We all lost.
Christian Emmett and I met at a rock concert. I can’t remember the name of the band because it was that long ago, but at some point someone started passing around a joint. I could not have been older than 14 years old, but I was terrified. I didn’t want any. I looked at my friends, who were all partaking. I didn’t know what to do. Christian, a complete stranger, saw my fear and simply took the reefer out of my hand and passed it to the person sitting to his immediate right. We played footsies for the rest of the show.
Having just ended a terrible relationship, suchmeagerinsight and I found ourselves alone in Cancun, Mexico. It was a balmy evening when she started eating the entire contents of a large glass container filled with maraschino cherries while lying in her white-netted hammock. What she didn’t realize was that the cherries had been packed in liquor and she got mad-drunk on cherry juice champagne. I spent hours holding my new friend’s hair as she vomited into the toilet. People generally bond over things like that.
Larry Hehn, Becky O’Connor and I met on a Greyhound bus headed north to Massachusetts. Becky planned to see Salem to learn more about the witch trials; Larry wanted to go to Trinity Church, and I wanted to go to Fenway Park to catch a Red Sawx game. Alas, our bus overheated in Pine Bluff, Arkansas and — after waiting 17 hours for another bus to show up in sweltering summer temperatures — we decided to Rent-a-Lemon for $38 and drive the rest of the way together. We never made it. But we had a great time at Busch Gardens Amusement Park in Virgina.
After seeing Bo Derek in the movie 10, I decided to try the whole “corn-row braids thing.” After a few weeks, I realized I’d made a terrible mistake and, as I sat in on a bench the local mall crying my eyes out, Ermigal sat down next to me. I told her how I regretted my decision while she licked her vanilla & chocolate swirl ice cream cone with rainbow sprinkles, and by the time she had finished her frozen treat, she selflessly offered to help me take out each and every bead and braid. It took 4 hours, but she never complained.
Some of you may have heard about how Annie, redheadstepmom and I unintentionally stopped a robbery. Redheadstepmom had an itch on her elbow, so she set her tuba case down on the curb and, as the rapscallion tried to make his getaway on foot, he stumbled over her over-sized instrument. Annie and I heard people screaming, “Stop that thief!” so we tackled the guy, giving the police just enough time to arrive on the scene, arrest the villain, and recover the stolen loot.
Jodi and Faith and I met at a barbecue for some people none of us knew. As we waited for our hot-dogs to grill, we looked at the condiments and had an exhaustive conversation about different types of mustard. Since then, we always exchange Grey Poupon for the holidays.
One winter, Educlaytion and Leanne Shirtliffe were wearing white snowsuits and lying in the snow on a curb outside of Bowness Park just 7.5 miles outside of the city center of Calgary, Canada. The two had been looking at the patterns they saw in the clouds when I tripped and fell over their legs. As I apologized profusely, Leanne laughed hysterically but Clay was all “Whaaat?” We found a nearby coffee shop to defrost and talked about “action verbs” for hours.
I would expect Val Erde to remember that we first spoke at the base of Mount Etna. But the only reason we met there was because I stalked her! I had been told I simply had to make authentic Italian calamari, so when she purchased the last octopus at the fish market and put it on ice in a big cooler, I simply could not let her go. When she stopped for that hot-dog in Sicily, I tried to swap my inexpensive Kappa knock-off tee-shirt for her box-o-seafood. Of course, she caught me red-handed. Nevertheless, she graciously invited me to her beautiful apartment where we promptly burned the octopus and overcooked the pasta.
• • •
Thanks for helping me celebrate my 200th post with some fun fiction!
How’d I do? Let me know if I forgot any details. Or if you missed out on that post, feel free to remind me how we met!
Your diversion into fiction was a smashing success! Bravo. I believe we met when you were correcting my grammar or, come to think of it, we were grammar-griping as teachers do in the teacher’s lounge.
We do do that, don’t we. Wait, did I just say do-do? That’s a don’t don’t. 😉
Whaaaat? You know me well. Of course I’m laying in the snow with women from two countries. You must want me to have more scandal in my life 😉 I’m sure Leanne ordered tea at that coffee shop though.
Were you “laying” or “lying”? And of course Leanne was having tea. We just stopped in to warm up. I got the apple cider that tasted a little past its prime, if I recall. 😉
The kittens have outgrown their box and the little orange tabby (who sheds and refuses to litter train) still wants to come home with you. You know Monkey is going to get tired of his virtual wolf and Dreamsicle (her new name) would make a welcome addition to your fur-free home! Won’t you reconsider your “no pet” rule?
Cute post! I’m glad we met!
You know we would love to have Dreamsicle, but hubby would gouge his eyes out. I think we’ll stick to virtual pets for now. Can we just come and visit? Sorry about the rugs and all. 😉
We were robbed – ROBBED – at that Lego-building contest! I think it’s because I couldn’t get the dragon to fly, although it did breathe just a little bit of fire and singe the arm hairs off the judges. And I’ll never forget you yelling, “Oh yeah? Enchant this, buddy!” when the judges called your jewel “so last year.” I did think Ray took things a bit too seriously, though, when he jumped off the top of his really tall tower. Luckily it morphed back into a vehicle and sped him off to the hospital to fix that broken pinky toe!
Limr: I didn’t want to get into too much detail, but can you imagine? Your dragon was smokin’! I mean for real! Who cared if it couldn’t fly. And what did they mean it wasn’t safe? Kids love a little danger. You should have won.
(Either you or me.)
What can I say… you are a hoot; not to mention very creative!! This was one of the most clever posts that I have read in awhile. I highly doubt that I will ever walk into Bed, Bath and Beyond without thinking of you and velvet hangers! 🙂
Thanks for sharing your humor and creativity, as it’s a GREAT addition to my reading. ~C~
“No more wire hangers!” 😉
these are great intros! I wish some of them were true. So I’m going to pretend they are.
Hi Marianne. How did we meet again? I forgot. You should tell me.
I am rarely a contributor but always an avid reader of Renee’s posts. This collection of witty entries reminded me why I never miss Lessons from Teachers and Twits. In case you are interested, I met my hubby at Cape Canaveral while he and I were training for space flight. Unfortunately, the program was discontinued just as our big chance was coming up. Bad luck!
Marlene: I had heard about that, and I’m really sorry you never got a chance to find out about the physics of making whoopee in space. It would have made a fabulous dissertation topic.
Ah yes, I love Busch. (IYKWIM)
Larry, I did not expect that from you. That was tight! (IYKWIM)
I was happy to accept a rose from a woman who can outrun my pace on a bike! (Explains a lot about why my bike commute used to take so long…) 😉
I didn’t mean to scare you. Seriously. Thank you for being such a forgiving spirit. And you know I didn’t mean to poke you with that thorn right. I mean, that really was an accident. 😉
Ha…that’s funny…you know me better than you thought! I am a tad bit anal: http://writerwoman61.wordpress.com/2010/09/30/a-little-to-the-left/
Thanks for the shoutout!
Wendy: I think we are truly kindred spirits. I loved that article.
“Mixing bowls should be stacked in order of size with the largest ones at the bottom, and plastic ones should never be mixed with glass!”
It’s like you’ve been inside my cupboards.
Or maybe I’ve been inside yours. 😉
I knew I forgot to leave a comment somewhere!
I can’t remember, were you the one I met while at my sister’s roommate’s cousin’s wedding and we found ourselves trying to outdo one another while doing the Macarena?
Or was that someone else? 🙂
No that was me, except we were doing the Electric Slide. Do you remember the heels we were wearing? Lord, I can’t believe we didn’t fall down and kill ourselves. Yours were like 5 inches tall, I think! But that dress was fabulous. Sorry I spilled on it. 😉
No no. That was my brother in the 5″ heels. I stabbed my heels through a straw hat and had sneakers on my feet.
I still need your address so I can forward the dry cleaning bill.
Was I dancing with your brother all night? Wow. That’s a man who knows how to wear a pair of heels.
I’m homeless right now, so about that bill… um… yeah… can I pay you in blog?
What! I can’t believe I missed the boat on this one.
Which reminds me, remember when we both missed the ferry that was scheduled to take us to a live taping of The Price is Right? I would have been destitute if our eyes didn’t meet across the deserted dock, two little ladies left behind. Sigh.
We might not have been able to bet “One dollar, Bob, one dollar!” but we did get some killer sorbet at that cute little ice cream shoppe owned by Vanessa Williams. I still have her autographed photo of us on my nightstand. After all, she was the one who took our picture.
I still dream about that sorbet, Jess! I got the raspberry and you got that — what was it — coconut or something? Remember how we shared spoons, but I didn’t know I was coming down with strep throat and then you got it too, so we were both stuck at home on meds for like a week! Will you send me a copy of that picture? 😉
In our defense, imprisoning us in an abandoned well was a rather harsh detention, even for kindergarten.
Sometimes things that seem extreme at the moment are meant to teach us something. Maybe you will one day get to that place. So, um, how are you doing in prison? 😉
Love it! You are so stinkin’ creative. 🙂 I would totally tackle a robber with you any day. My boys have taught me some pretty slick moves guaranteed to take anyone one down.
Annie, I know we could take anyone down. Even without a stupid hard-shell tuba case. 😉
I’m so glad you remembered how we met! Remember, platinum is pretty, but not on a living thing. If you really want to coat your living things in something precious, use gold. Heck, it worked for Goldfinger.
I know, I know. Why you always gotta rub it in? 😉
It’s just one of my many fine annoying qualities. So, yes.
This is great.
I’m honoured to be in your opening paragraph.
How well I remember that thrilling dash across the ice. But I’ve been trying to forget the coop and how you manouvred me so I had the backside pecked off me by the chickens. But hey, that’s chivalry for you.
Odd that a chicken coop came to your mind. Just such an abode plays a significant role in my book.
I have only one complaint – how come there are not a hundred likes for this epic post. The world is bonkers.
Oh – and one other thought – that poor, poor buzzard.
It is odd how many of these completely fictional posts had resonance for people. Weird, right?I don’t think I’ve ever used the word “buzzard” in a sentence before. And look, Terri never came back to see herself with it. 😉
Thank you for your kind words. And your kind “likes.”
This was a lot of fun for me.
Maybe my fall writing students will believe that I really can write now. 😉
Renee, it’s funny how some of the most detestable things can become so devilishly delectable when one has unknowingly broken her vow of temperance. I thank you for your support and encouragement on that vacation. You single-handedly prevented me from falling into a mire of misery and alcoholism. I hope you will be glad to note that I have entirely avoided maraschino cherries since that fateful day.
Sweetie, if I had only known the cherries had been laced, I never would have allowed you to eat the entire jug. That said, you are still the prettiest person I’ve ever seen toss her cookies. Like ever.
I bleed for you.
I know. It was a friggin’ mess. You are just lucky that I have a strong left hook and no one would ever suspect a twerp like me could take out Chuck E.
I am loyal to my peeps.
*pounds chest two times*
Hysterical! But please, experimenting with chemicals? Who me?!!
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Renee, I thought I had already commented on your very creative version of how you met some of your readers–so sorry! I’m impressed that you recalled my love of ice cream. I’ll bet Bo looks like an old hag by now. Glad I could help with the braid removal.
I enjoy your blog!
Wheeeeee! Pink legwarmers! LOL I did have a pair of legwarmers, only they were stripes in shades of brown….and never worn with high heels!