August 8 – Oh my! It’s the Zoomers

       “We can’t sit on the dock too long today, Sandy.”  The Geezer swished his feet in the canal water.  “We have to check on Bob and Irma’s.”
       That wasn’t a problem for me.  Bob and Irma are “snowbird” friends of the Geezer and Mrs. Gator.  The Geezer looks in on their home while they’re in North Carolina for the summer.  My objection was having to pass “Mrs. Zoomer’s” house.  Least ways, that’s what I call her.  I don’t wish to be catty, but she gives the word “bitch” a bad connotation.
       “Geezer, we aren’t going to stop at the Zoomers’ house are we?” I wanted a commitment, which I was sure wouldn’t happen.  The Geezer can’t stay away from flattery any more than Paris Hilton can avoid publicity.  I knew the next 5 words he’d say.
       “I don’t plan on it.”
       Yeah, sure.  That’s absolute bull shit.  Besides knowing how to inflate the old boy’s ego more than a ruptured weather balloon, Mrs. Zoomers has a pair of Charleston Grays hanging from her chest that she displays like a yacht at a boat show.  For you non-Southerners, Charleston Grays are a very large variety of watermelon.  The woman doesn’t know what a bra is, or at least, doesn’t wear one.  I take that back–she does own “a keeps um from floppin’.”  She hangs it and her panties on the clothes line in her side yard.  Since she drys everything else in her dryer, I assume those replace taking an ad out in the local fish wrapper.  What a bra!  It looks like two white duffel bags held together with wire cable, canvas, mooring ropes, and padlock clasps.
       “Really Sandy, I won’t stop unless she forces me to.”  The Geezer’s a fair mind reader, or maybe the dubious look on my face gave me away.  “Besides, don’t you want to visit Fifi, Carlos, Ding, and Dong?”
       “Oh, Hell no, Geezer!”  Visiting the dogie proctologist is a far more pleasurable that visiting the four villains that live in the Zoomers’ house.
       “Why is that, Sandy?”
       “You want to know?  Okay, I’ll tell you.  Let me start with Ding and Dong.  You know my feelings about cats.  Well, any besides Missy, Sugar, and Mr. B, they’re Mrs. Gator’s and practically my sisters and brother.  But, those far eastern foreign types give me the creeps.  They have blue eyes, for cripes sakes.  Always whining and sneaking around.  And they hiss at me anytime I move.  You’d think I wanted to eat one of them.  I hate Thai food.”
      “I can understand your feelings about the cats, but what a bout Fifi?”
      “Geezer, a girl has to watch her reputation and associating with that French slut, definitely would hurt mine.  The other neighborhood doggettes are always gossipping about her.  I understand they’re renaming one of the streets here in town “The Sexual Freeway” in recognition of her exploits.  All she talks about is this boyfriend or that one and how many times…well it’s disgusting to a lady.  And, she always smells of cheap perfume.  The stuff makes me sneeze and it takes an hour for my sniffer to get back to normal after I get away from her.”
      “Maybe Fifi is a little on the promiscuous side.  Carlos seems to really like you.”  The Geezer was trying his best to find a straw for me to cling to.  When it comes to Mrs. Zoomers’ pets, ain’t no way.  He couldn’t find that straw in a 100 acre Kansas wheat field.
       “Carlos?  Surely you jest, Geezer.  That yappy Mexican makes me sick.  He’s always suggesting, well you know.  Besides, size does matter.  He has the worst case of fleas I’ve seen.  And, his breath always smells like Jalapenos.  How revolting.  Can’t you see us walking down the lane, paw in paw?”  
       The Geezer chuckled.  “That would be a funny sight.  Even for a Chihuahua he’s kind of puny.”
       “Puny?  Carlos makes the 3 mice in the movie “Babe” look like Arnold Schwarzenegger, Hulk Hogan, and Superman.”
       I knew the Geezer was running out of excuses to get his ego fix, but I figured he’d try one last shot.  He rubbed his mustache and chin so I knew his brain was at full throttle.  He got that devious light in the back of his pupils.  The Geezer’s “butter won’t melt” expression appeared on his face and he said, “Gee Sandy, I didn’t know you disliked foreigners so much.  Don’t you think you should give them a chance?”
       It didn’t take me long to answer that.  “Geezer, I can relate my feelings about the Zoomers’ pets in terms with which you can identify…In fact, in just two words.”
       “Illegal Immigrants.”
       The Geezer looked at me askew.  I could see light dawn in that ancient brain.  He struggled to find some way to salvage the trip.  I know he loves the bull shit mixed with molasses Mrs Zoomer serves up, lauding his writing, his distinguished look, etc.  Give me a break!  Nebraska has less corn.  He finally gave up.  “I guess Bob and Irma’s will be okay for a couple more days.”



2 thoughts on “August 8 – Oh my! It’s the Zoomers

  1. Pingback: Wednesday Game Notes ·

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