We were "quirky" before quirky was cool.
A long pause went by. I said, "No."
"Walter, you're crying."
OK I admit it i was cryin. But only because she woudnt stop her danm singing. She was sittin on the couch, and I was sittin on the floor. She drops off the couch onto her hands and knees and slinks ovor to me like a muscular panther. She came ovor to me and put her face close to me. Her lip got all trembly and she said, "My music has touched you! Thank you for the greatest gift anyone coud ever give me." Then she started cryin too. I creid more cause I wanted to get the hell away from her even more. She sprang up and grabbed the back of my head and pressed my forhead against her forhead and then she cried more too. By now I was just bawling I was so upset and had to piss so bad. And she bawled just the same. It went on for a long long time and she was holdin me very tight and I coud not get away.
At some point I got up the nerve to say "I have to pee," and so I got up went to the bathroom. I was in there a long time. Did you evor have to pee so bad it didnt come out at first? This is what hapened to me.
Soon there was a loud knock and she hollored, "Whats goin on in there? How come I dont hear no pee?" I coud not answor and this got her more pissed. It was very nerve wracking and she said she was going to bust the freakin door down. Anyway she did not, and so the date contineud. I hung around some more like a relluctant captive and we watched one of those late-night rellationship shows on cable, MTV I think, and then we smooched a little bit, (Yuck), not alot but just a little, (but long enough anyway, Yuck,), and I said I had to go to work the next day and finaly she drove me back to my car.
I got home at 3:45. I walked in the house and guess who was still up. All the lights were on in the trailer and Granfather was nakad exept for his diaper. The Barry White CD was blasting. The old basterd was primping and flexing and stairing at his emaciated mummy like skinny scraggly carcass in the cheap buckled tinplate full length mirror that hung behind the bathroom door. It was very unlike him.
"WATCH THIS, BWAH: WHEN I SUCK MY GUT IN REAL HARD, MAH SPINAL CORD SHOWS THRU ON MAH BELLY."
I said to him, "Please stop that disgousting trick." Hes been doin that danm trick since he was a kid.
"WHOA. NOW THAR'S A LUMPY VEIN AH AIN'T NEVER SEEN B'FORE...WAIT UP: THET AIN'T A LUMP NOR A VEIN..."
I asked him, "Granfather what are you doing?" The old basterd had this look of exhilorant glee on his face.
"FIRST, TAKE ANOTHOR GANDER AT MAH SPINE COMIN' THROUGH MAH BELLY. CHECK OUT THEM BUMPS.
"THEMS ARE WARSHBOARD ABS, IF YOU ASK ME."
Again I repeated my question. The old beast ignored me agian, but then asked me what size tuxedo do I think he wears.
"What the hell does that mattor?" I said, and then all of a suddon Granfather started dancing arround the room. Did you ever see the movie, "City Slickors Two: The Legend Of Curly's Gold, where they find the gold and then Billy Crystal says, "Okay boys, its time for the Walter Houston dance," and they all start hoppin arround like elderly yokel prospectors? Thats what he was doing. He didnt even notice his diapor fell off."ME AND MAH LADYFRIEND GOT ENGAGED! I'M GITTIN MARRIED, BOY!"
I coud not believe it. I was stunned and in shock. The first thing I asked was if he went over her father's house and farted up a storm first.
"NO TIME FER THAT," he answered, with perfect serriousness. Then I asked if he loved her, and this annoyed the old basterd. He snapped, "DON'T ASK PRIVATE, PUSSONAL QUESTIONS."
OK I admitt it. I was upset and jealuos. I coud not bear an ugly old ogre like him gettin married while my lovelife is one disastor after the other. I mumbled my congradulations, and then stumbled off to bed.
"PLEASANT DREAMS," he cackled at me, "DREAMS ABOUT WOMEN WHO DON'T EXIST...
"...LEAST NOT FER YOU ANNYWAYS...BLAH-HAH-HAH-HAH!!!
At the crack of dawn I heard an odd awfull scratching sound. I opened my eyes and noticed that Granfather was in my room. His demeanor had changed and he looked glum, even a bit worried.
"HELLO, BOY," he said.
The scratchin noise was from somthing he was rubbing on the bristly hairs on his head. Do you remember I boght a bunch of diferent brands of condoms. One of them had this red label and Granfather had tore all of them open and blowed them up like balloons and he had this frustrated look on his face as he rubbed them on his head as to make static electricity and then stick them to the wall.
"THESE ARE THE SUCKIEST PARTY BALLOONS I'D EVER SAW. ALL THE SAME COLOR, AND THEY WON'T STICK TO DAGNAB NOTHIN'."
"HOW THE HELL AM I S'POSED TO CELLY-BRATE?"
I said to him, "Granfather, you are not happy about gettin married are you?" His face screwed up into a sour worried frown. "LISSEN TO OL' BARRY WHITE," he said, as the CD playor was still on. "IT'S HIS FAULT. ROMANTIC RASCAL THAT HE IS." The song that was playing was, "You're my First, Youre My Last, You're My Everything"
"LOOK AT ME, BOY. MAH FIRST ALREADY GOT EVERYTHING IN MAH FIRST DEE-VORCE.
'COURSE I REMARRIED HER, THEN I GOT WIDDERED. I WAS HOPIN' I COUD AVOID A 'LAST' BUT NOW I CAIN'T!"
I asked why he even wants to marry her. He said, "CAUSE I THOUGHT IT WOUD MAKE YOU JEALOUS, AND PISS OFF THE REST OF THE FAMBLY."
Granfather's evil mind is very hard to undorstand. After he crapped and had breakfast I called in sick for the day. Then I did somthing i never did before. Me and Granfather sat at the kitchon table and had some whisky shots. We turned off Barry White and put on Sinatra, the Capitol Record Colection.
"STIR MAH POWDER GOOD," he grunted at me, "AND MAKE SURE IT AIN'T CHALKY.
"IF AH SO MUCH AS TASTE DRY POWDER, SO HEPP ME, I WILL BITCH-SLAP YO' SORRY ASS INTO NEXT WEEK."
I said, "Yes, Granfather."
I asked him, "What was the worst single date you evar had in your life?" The old basterd chewed his lip for a moment and said, "HMMM, THAR WUZ SO MANY. BUT I THINK IT HAD TO BE ONE O'THEM FROM MY ARMY DAYS."
I said to him, "Granfather, not the Area 51 story agian, and he said, "NAW, NAW, THAT DON'T COUNT CAUSE IT WAS INVOLUTARY." (Granfather was part of a Human-Alien Hybrid project at one time, just like the one on the X-Files exept less dramatic and violant. Also, anothor time, during the Korean War he was coght by the Russians who tried to mate him with a female yeti. These are two stories Granfather does not like talkin about).
"IN MAH ARMY DAYS I HAD OCCASION TO BE SENT UP ONCE OR TWICE TO THE ABERDEEN PROVING GROUNDS, NORTH OF BALTY-MORE."
I said, "Ive heard of that place. What do they do there?"
"YOU KNOW, 'PROVING'," he said nonchalontly, "SAME STUFF THEM PAIN IN THE ASS RESEARCHERS DO TODAY: PROVING WHETHER I'M FULLY HUMAN OR NOT.
"AT THIS POINT AH FIGGER WHO GIVES A DANM CRAP."
The old ogre paused, took a long drag on a cigarete, shut his eyes and exhailed. Then he held up his shotglass and extended his long prehensile aardvarklike tounge into the bottom to lap up a few stray clumps of Metamucil. He burped, then farted, then continued his story.
"WAAL, BACK IN THE LATE FIFTIES FOLKS WUZ SCARED OF COMMUNISTS AND FLYING SAUCERS AND SUCH. THAT'S "WHY I WUZ AT THE PROVING GROUNDS."
All of a sudden Granfather's eyes blazed and he got deffensive and belligerent. He started screamin, "BUT THEY DIDN'T PROVE NOTHIN'! NOTHIN', I TELL YOU, NOTHIN'!"
Then as quickly as he started the old basterd calmed down to his normol speaking tone.
"HMMPH! DIDN'T MEAN TO GIT ALL ORNERY. OKAY. BACK TO MAH STORY. WORST DATE OF MAH LIFE. OH YES.
"WAAL, IT AIN'T A LONG STORY. AFTER A FEW HOURS OF POKING AND PRODING FROM SOME DUMBASS ARMY DOCTORS, I REQUESTED A LITTLE TIME OFF. YOU KNOW, R&R.
"A MAN--OR WHUTEVER THE HELL SPECIES THEY THINK I AM, NO ONE'S PROVED NOTHIN' --CAN ONLY TAKE SO MANY FLASHLIGHTS UP THE ASS, KNOW-WHUT-I-MEAN?
"THEY WOULDN'T GIVE ME NO TIME OFF, SO I WENT A.W.O.L. ...CHEWED THRU THE BARS OF THE CAGE WHUT I WAS IN, THEN HITCHED A FREIGHT TRAIN INTO BALTY-MORE. BUT I MISSED THE STOP CAUSE I FELL ASLEEP--I WUZ EVEN LAZIER IN THEM DAYS THAN NOW--BUT A HALF-HOUR LATER I WAS IN WASHINGTON.
I HOOKED UP WITH TWO OTHER SERVICEMEN, AND BEFORE YOU KNEW IT THE THREE OF US WUZ EATIN' PICKLED HARD BOILED EGGS AND DRINKIN' ROB ROYS IN THE LOBBY OF A HOTEL CALLED THE FRANCIS SCOTT KEY WHICH AIN'T THAR NO MORE, CAUSE THEY TORED IT DOWN IN THE SEVENTIES.
"YOU KNOW WHUT A 'ROB ROY' IS, BWAH?"
I said, "Yes I do, Granfather." The old beast contineud his story.
"A FEW PURTY YOUNG WOMEN WUZ AT THE TABLES, AND ONE REALLY UGLY OLD HAG, LOOKED LIKE A DANM BULLDOG IN A RED STRAPLESS GOWN AND PURPLE LIPSTICK. SHE WAS LOOKIN' AT ME FLAIRIN' HER NOSTRILS.
"THAT'S THE LAST THING I REMEMBER. NEXT THING I KNEW IT WAS THE NEXT MORNING, AND SHE'S LAYIN THAR NEXT TO ME IN A MURPHY BED NESTLED UP LIKE TWO SILVER SPOONS.
"A 'MURPHY BED' IS AN OLD FASHIONED DEAL WHUT FOLDS UP VERTICAL INTO A BIG ASS OLD TV CABINET IN THE WALL, 'CEPT THEY MADE THEM IN THE DAYS BEFORE TV WAS INVENTED."
I said to him, "I know what a Murphy Bed is."
"OH, VERY WELL THEN," said the old basterd, puffin on the cigaret stump and lookin wistfilly at the rising sun out the trailer window. He paused agian.
"YESSIR, THET WUZ MUH WORST DATE EVER."
I said, "That's it? That dosent sound too bad."
He repiled, "YOU SAY THAT, BOY. BUT THE OLD HAG DIDNT LOOK RIGHT."
I said, "So, your allways goin out with ugly women."
"NOT ONES WITH AN EXTRAORDINARY RESEMBLANCE TO J. EDGAR HOOVER."