That's
always nice to hear.
"Want to do it again? I have some margarine in the glove
compartment," he said.
"Well-"
"Just Joking. Now let's go hear some Patsy!"
"Okay, but if there's any whipped cream on our daiquiris,
stay away from my lap."
We arrived back at my hotel just a few minutes before the
show started.
"What the hell are you two doing here?" Justin asked, as
Marvin and I grabbed two chairs and joined them.
"I have a surprise for you," I said, shushing him, as the
emcee walked on stage.
"What is it?" he whispered in my ear.
"Wait, you'll see in just a bit."
"Does it involve Mary?"
"Wait," I repeated, and held up a finger to indicate that
he'd see in just a minute.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage the
legendary Miss Patsy Cline," said the emcee, after a short
welcome to the show.
And lo and behold, you would have sworn that it was
actually Patsy. She came out in full Western gear, complete
with leather tassels around her long skirt and cuffs, and
pristine white cowboy boots that matched her smile. I had
goose bumps as she made her way around the stage, waving
at the huge group of people who had come to our pissant
hotel to see her. Jacques was beaming with pride at his
star performer. Justin looked less than enthused, but I was
beyond thrilled. And then she started to sing. It was as if
heaven had opened up its gates and the voice of Patsy was
coming through this woman's mouth. I was, needless to say,
flushed with bliss.
Justin leaned in and whispered, "I'll tell you what's
crazy. Spending fifty bucks to see this show, that's what's
crazy. Now tell me what the surprise is."
"Damn, you're a pain," I whispered back to him.
"Tell me. Tell me. Tell me. Where is Mary?"
I pointed to Patsy, who couldn't have sounded lovelier,
and said, "There you go."
"That is not Mary, you dumbass. I saw Mary. Mary is
old, dude. How much have you had to drink tonight? And
why do you smell like Country Crock and cum?"
Jacques was looking at us impatiently as we continued
to chat through the first song, but once you get Justin going
there's just no stopping him.
"Okay, fine, if I tell you, will you shut up?" I asked, also
wanting to hear the rest of the show in peace.
He nodded and crossed his heart. Which never meant
that much to me, as he had very little of one to swear on.
"That, my dear friend, is Mary's daughter and the key
to my vase."
"No foolin'?" he asked, looking at me, then over to
Jacques, then back at me. "Well, now, I don't think it's
gonna be too hard to get a personal introduction, do you?"
"Nope. Now let's enjoy the show."
"Whatever you say." He reached over to hold Jacques's
hand. That turned his frown upside down and got us one
teensy step closer to Mary.
The rest of the show was wonderful, but the showstopper was Patsy Cline, yet again, singing "Walkin' After
Midnight" and "I Fall to Pieces." The woman sounded like
an angel. By the time she was done, I was seriously thinking
of taking up the slide guitar and learning how to yodel. Too
bad I have no musical talent. (Well, any talent, really.)
"That was amazing," I said to Jacques, when the show
was over and the house lights had gone up.
"Yes, Jacques, thank you so much for that," Justin added,
forcing a smile on his face.
Judging from the way his fingers were digging into his
right leg throughout the show, I believe he was miserable
from beginning to end. But since the other leg had his date's
hand firmly planted on it, I figured he would end the evening
on a happy note, so I wasn't feeling too guilty about forcing
him on the date to begin with. Besides, it was for a good
cause.
"You're all very welcome. It was my pleasure. Would you
like to meet the star?" he asked, pushing all of us to the end
of our seats in anticipation.
"Yes, please," I responded eagerly.
"Then follow me," he said, and walked us over to a door
on the side of the stage.
Our little trio gladly followed.
always nice to hear.
"Want to do it again? I have some margarine in the glove
compartment," he said.
"Well-"
"Just Joking. Now let's go hear some Patsy!"
"Okay, but if there's any whipped cream on our daiquiris,
stay away from my lap."
We arrived back at my hotel just a few minutes before the
show started.
"What the hell are you two doing here?" Justin asked, as
Marvin and I grabbed two chairs and joined them.
"I have a surprise for you," I said, shushing him, as the
emcee walked on stage.
"What is it?" he whispered in my ear.
"Wait, you'll see in just a bit."
"Does it involve Mary?"
"Wait," I repeated, and held up a finger to indicate that
he'd see in just a minute.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage the
legendary Miss Patsy Cline," said the emcee, after a short
welcome to the show.
And lo and behold, you would have sworn that it was
actually Patsy. She came out in full Western gear, complete
with leather tassels around her long skirt and cuffs, and
pristine white cowboy boots that matched her smile. I had
goose bumps as she made her way around the stage, waving
at the huge group of people who had come to our pissant
hotel to see her. Jacques was beaming with pride at his
star performer. Justin looked less than enthused, but I was
beyond thrilled. And then she started to sing. It was as if
heaven had opened up its gates and the voice of Patsy was
coming through this woman's mouth. I was, needless to say,
flushed with bliss.
Justin leaned in and whispered, "I'll tell you what's
crazy. Spending fifty bucks to see this show, that's what's
crazy. Now tell me what the surprise is."
"Damn, you're a pain," I whispered back to him.
"Tell me. Tell me. Tell me. Where is Mary?"
I pointed to Patsy, who couldn't have sounded lovelier,
and said, "There you go."
"That is not Mary, you dumbass. I saw Mary. Mary is
old, dude. How much have you had to drink tonight? And
why do you smell like Country Crock and cum?"
Jacques was looking at us impatiently as we continued
to chat through the first song, but once you get Justin going
there's just no stopping him.
"Okay, fine, if I tell you, will you shut up?" I asked, also
wanting to hear the rest of the show in peace.
He nodded and crossed his heart. Which never meant
that much to me, as he had very little of one to swear on.
"That, my dear friend, is Mary's daughter and the key
to my vase."
"No foolin'?" he asked, looking at me, then over to
Jacques, then back at me. "Well, now, I don't think it's
gonna be too hard to get a personal introduction, do you?"
"Nope. Now let's enjoy the show."
"Whatever you say." He reached over to hold Jacques's
hand. That turned his frown upside down and got us one
teensy step closer to Mary.
The rest of the show was wonderful, but the showstopper was Patsy Cline, yet again, singing "Walkin' After
Midnight" and "I Fall to Pieces." The woman sounded like
an angel. By the time she was done, I was seriously thinking
of taking up the slide guitar and learning how to yodel. Too
bad I have no musical talent. (Well, any talent, really.)
"That was amazing," I said to Jacques, when the show
was over and the house lights had gone up.
"Yes, Jacques, thank you so much for that," Justin added,
forcing a smile on his face.
Judging from the way his fingers were digging into his
right leg throughout the show, I believe he was miserable
from beginning to end. But since the other leg had his date's
hand firmly planted on it, I figured he would end the evening
on a happy note, so I wasn't feeling too guilty about forcing
him on the date to begin with. Besides, it was for a good
cause.
"You're all very welcome. It was my pleasure. Would you
like to meet the star?" he asked, pushing all of us to the end
of our seats in anticipation.
"Yes, please," I responded eagerly.
"Then follow me," he said, and walked us over to a door
on the side of the stage.
Our little trio gladly followed.
Similar Books
