Queen for a Day

July 18, 2007 at 1:07 am (Cussed Dumbers)

Grinder McV missed work today. He’s been grouchy lately, because of a sore tooth. He had it pulled, and guess who got to be boss by default? Thass right, yours truly.

There were trainees. Celebrity sitings. A small amount of crime-fighting. But the searing question of the day:

Will my ex-girlfriend get the electric chair?

Since Grinder’s managerial activities needed tending to, I took the initiative. I left the trainee with my lunch-person and did banking chores, fetching change, making sure all the numbers were in place.

On the way back from the bank, I saw a leather chair on sale for half-price at Office Depot. $79, plus $5 to assemble it. I called the X-GF, who has been in dire need of a new desk chair. It looked cushy, and even had an electric massage function. I gave her the coordinates, and she thanked me. That’s right babe, I’m still watching out for your backside.

After which, I sent the lunch-person home, and settled in for a quiet night.

And it was, for the most part. My trainee *gets* it, so life wasn’t unbearable. The night cruised by quickly. Street patrols came and went. The cook from Odessa’s Barbecue gave ma a holla; I complimented him on his sweet tea. You’d have to taste it to understand.

As quitting time approached, I sent the trainee to the office to do his accounting. The office door shut, and as I reached for the newspaper, I looked up and saw a familiar face.

But not familiar from the store, or the avenue. From the newspaper and TV. It was Portland’s newest million-dollar baby, Greg Oden.

Of course, there wasn’t much doubt. He’s a long-legged drink of water. At just shy of six-foot, I don’t often get a crick in my neck talking to people, but I had to tilt back at a 45-degree angle to make proper eye contact.

He looked around, bought some sweets, and was quite gracious. Without fawning, I welcomed him to town and asked if he was enjoying all the attention. He seemed to be, especially from the sweet young thing who was showing him around. Maybe I’m a fame-whore, but it made my whole day. The last Trailblazer I interacted with was a flaming asshole, (not saying, don’t ask, he’s LONG gone) so this was nice. Mister Oden, I think you will make a fine addition to our city.

I called Chuckles and bragged. As I hung up, the phone rang. “Hey sailor..” It was Grinder.

“Hey! How’s the mouth?”

“I feel wonderful…” He had a velvet fog voice going on. “They pulled the tooth. I ate a couple of Percocets, but they weren’t helping, so I ate a Vicodin and had a screwdriver. I feel sooo good…”

Time for me to give the stern daddy lecture. “You sound like you feel fine. No more booze for a couple of hours, okay?”

“Oh, I’m going to bed in a minute. I just wanted to check in.”

“The dentist warned you about all the stuff you’re not supposed to do. Don’t suck on anything-”

“He-he-he-he-hee..”

“Okay, bad choice of words. Avoid using straws, you don’t want to get dry socket. Did the dentist tell you about the teabag trick.”

Grinder started giggling again. “I wish he would have teabagged me. He was hot…”

“Okay, okay. Get some rest, no more booze, and see you tomorrow?”

“I’ll be in! More teabag!” He was giggling again as I hung up. I’ve never seen him that easily amused.

I’ve yet to hear if the X-GF checked out the chair. I could be shooting myself in the foot.

What if it gives a better butt massage than I do?

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