Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Mr. Smooth Gave Me An Award
Two days ago I stumbled five blocks east of skid row into a bad stretch of road that descended into an even worse stretch of town. Imagine my shock when my feet stopped in a dank, darkly lit, smoke-filled tavern. There was a Guido-looking man standing next to a table. Two guys with gold teeth and shark smiles puffed on cigars. A hot blond, Jean Harlow style, dealt the cards.
I took a step back. Wouldn't you? The yellow bulb in an old rusted copper lamp swung ominously from the ceiling and as I stepped back--I collided with a mountain. The mountain spoke in a guttural tone as mountains are prone to do. "The boss wants to see you."
See me? What on earth for? I'm only little, only me! I never whacked nobody! I never bought drugs. What the devil could this Chico want with me? The mountain's beefy hands gripped my shoulders and walked 5' tall little me over to a dark corner. I couldn't see his face. But he had Andrew Dice Clay hair and chunky gold rings on thin tapered fingers. He puffed on a big fat Cuban cigar and smoked shimmered in the ghost light before rolling off into the shadows. It seemed the darkness was consuming everything in this joint.
Two dice sat on the wooden table. The dings and scars upon the table's skin did little to ease my fears. Is that blood?! I swallowed hard and shook in my stilettos. He shuffled a deck of cards, but I doubt he ever intended to deal them. He seemed to enjoy the feel of them flexing under his nimble fingers. The red glow of his cigar drew my eyes. I marveled at the inch long snake of ash just hanging there. He clamped it in his teeth.
"I hear you've been writing smut." His voice was like dark chocolate. Deep and silky smooth as it drifted from the shadows. I nodded, yes, though it was really more of a statement than a question. He chuckled, a lovely rumble beneath his double-breasted suit. The man might scare the be-Jesus outta me, but he had style. "We like smut 'round these parts--gives this place atmosphere." The mountain laughed behind me. I wished he'd move--stop wedging me closer to the table and Mr. Smooth.
Mr. Smooth continued, dark chocolate spinning his line. "I hear your write noir." I shrugged and the mountain shoved me. My hands landed on the table--on the blood stains. I was getting an idea of how they got there. The mountain snapped like a growling beast. "Answer the boss." My breath caught and I squeaked, "I write a lot of things."
"Hey!" Mr. smooth admonished the mountain harshly and we all looked at him. He stood up, straightened his tie, rolled his shoulders and walked around the table. He pushed the mountain back with one finger. One effing finger! "She's a classy broad. Give her a break." He righted me by my elbow and pushed my hair out of my face. "You okay?" I nodded that I was and he gestured to a chair. "Have a seat, Doll Face."
I took a chair and looked at him."How'd you know I was gonna end up here? I didn't even know. I got lost." Mr. Smooth grinned, laying in wait, covered by shadows once more. "The only way to find the Golden Pearl is to get lost. Ain't that right boys?" The bar cheered...but it was more of a slow growling agreement than an actual cheer. This was not a satisfactory response, but he spoke before I could voice my opposition. "The point is that you made it."
He leaned over and set a briefcase on the table. I played it cool while he worked the combination and the clasps snapped open. "I have something for you. A gift from my family to yours." My brow crinkled, "Family?" He laughed, "Sure. We're a family, aren't we boys?" The mountain laughed and I heard, "Sure Boss," float around the bar. He pulled out a large yellow envelope and pushed it a cross the table. "Take this, post it on your blog, and don't make me send Joey after you." The mountain cracked his knuckles and all I could think was Joey was far too small a name for a man that large.
I picked the envelope up with shaking hands. Damn I hope Mr. Smooth didn't see. I cleared my throat, "So can I go now?" Mr. Smooth leaned back and folded his fingers over his abdomen. "Yeah, Doll Face. Scoot." He didn't have to tell me twice. I bolted from the chair--knocking it over. I headed for the door, choking on the smoke, and then some creep called Uncle Buk grabbed my ass. In a moment of pure insanity, I looked back as I reached the door.
I watched a pretty brunette in a red dress take the stage. A piano began to play of it's own accord and she started to sing, "Black Coffee." When she turned around my heart stopped. It was like looking in a mirror--if I'd been trapped in the 1940's that is... I turned back to the door and hurried out into the starless night.
I stumbled backward into the gutter. My heel snapped. "Dammit!" I stood up and dusted off the dirt. When I looked up The Golden Pearl was gone. Every trace of it had vanished. In it's place stood a sorry looking Chinese noodle place. I looked around--nothing. It was gone. A chill seeped into my bones and I hobbled back the way I'd come. I didn't know where I was exactly, and I couldn't see any cabbies out. I made to the end of the block before I remembered the envelope clutched under my arm.
I opened it.
A green certificate winked at me. "The Versatile Blogger Award." I shoved it angrily back in the envelope. "Oh for Pete's sake! All this for a Blogger award?!" I scoffed to the blinking streetlamp. "Pfft. Men. And they say Chicas like drama. Humph."
It took me two days to get home and somebody owes me a new pair of stilettos. So, my dear sweet minions...I apologize for the delay. But Mr. Smooth...ah Ant...was kind enough to gift Crooked Tales with The Versatile Blogger Award. Apparently I have to tell you 10 things about myself that you might not know. But if you read my seedy little rag--you pretty much know everything. Lmao! So I'm gonna post 5 truths and 5 lies instead. See if you can pick them out. ;)
1. I Did back to school commercials for Value City and Schottenstein's department stores as a kid.
2. I was nominated for Miss Teen Ohio in 7th grade.
3. I love lobster.
4. I never wear panties. (Hehehee.)
5. I sometimes dream about being Fred Astaire.
6. I want to retire on an island somewhere with a harem of oh...say...30 cabana boys to do my bidding.
7. I used to scam kids in school outta cash by eating bowls full of jalapenos for $5 a pop. ;)
8. I once talked politics with Corbin Bernsen in a limo after a play he'd starred in, and he said I was very pretty and intelligent. (heart!)
9. My favorite color is green.
10. Gawd I need more?! Ugh. Okay. My hands down favorite singer ever is Iggy Pop.
Now for the fun stuff! I get to tag 5 bloggers. Hehehehehe. It's supposed to be 10, but eh, I never have liked rules, and Ant has a point about the black plague. I know I'm supposed to be looking for versatile bloggers, but I'm feeling more like girl power. Or maybe I just like to flip off rules as much as humanly possible--who knows? So my pics are as follows:
1. Cathy cuz I love her and she's killing me with her damn wedding sugary sweet syrupy crap! Lmao! Kidding Chica! I'll just email you my dental bill. I jest. If you haven't read her blog, then you must be mental. Really, if you wanna be one of the cool kids (or surly loner eavesdropping on the cool kids like me) then her blog is the place to be. You never know if you're gonna get a story to make you chuckle, to make you cry, or just catch up on gossip. Sweet. ;)
2. VL Sheridan. Seriously. Why aren't you reading Sins of the Flash?? It's awesome, tawdry, yummy, stark, and oh so sinfully bad for you. ;)
3. Carrie. I'll be honest...I dunno much about her, but Crooked Fang has profanity and scares me--and I love it! I leave her place feeling like I need a shower or a preist (and I'm not Catholic!) or both. Rock on, Chica. ;)
4. Maria. Look. She's got a freaking HUGE gun on her blog! Like I'm NOT gonna pick her? Pfft.. I'm mental, but not stupid. Seriously, she writes some crazy shit and I totally dig it. You want sexy assassins? How about some baby/creature murdering cults? Then she's your Chica, I'm telling you. Read her blog and love it! ;)
5. Is thing still on? Testing? Testing? Oh. Okay, cool. Last but not least...is my Chica. She doesn't post that much of her writing. Typically she blogs about writing, but when she does post some fiction prepare to be gripped by an overwhelming sense of--how the eff does she write like that? So polished, so brilliant, so flawless. Honestly, she sickens me. lmao! But I luvs her. So go over and check out Mistress Savage. :)
Hmmm...I'm winking a lot today. Just slap me simple and call me Twitch. Hope you had fun folks. Hope you have a rockin'-kick ass day and happy blogging! :D