Monday, March 30, 2009

Monday Muse

"My name is Jim, but most people call me... Jim."

Blazing Saddles


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  2. “‘My name is Jim, but most people call me... Jim.’ Blazing Saddles,” said George. “Okay – who’s next?”

    Tom said, “Got one. ‘Ahh, ya doesn't has to call me Johnson! You can call me Ray, or you can call me Jay, or you can call me Johnny or you can call me Sonny, or you can call me RayJay, or you can call me RJ... but ya doesn't hafta call me Johnson.’ From Bill Saluga, you know – that comedian from a long time ago, I think.”

    “Very good!” said George. He congratulated himself on coming up such a clever and challenging parlor game. “So, anyone else want to try?”

    “I’ll try,” said Sharon. “You can call me whatever you want - just don’t call me late for dinner. How’s that?”

    “Hmmm,” said George. “All right. I’ll allow that one. But reluctantly, Sharon.”

    “Thanks.” Sharon shrugged. Sandra looked annoyed.

    “So, any of the rest of you have any other ideas – or is that it?” asked George.

    “A man called Horse?” Sandra's sour look dared George to veto her entry in the game.

    “A boy named Sue?” offered Tony.

    “You’re supposed to use ‘called’ – not ‘named’ Tony.” George shook his head at Tony.

    “I think you should allow it anyway,” said Sandra. She looked even more irritated with George. “Everyone? What do you guys think?” They’ll all nodded in agreement or said yes.

    “All right,” said George. “Whatever. It’s allowed.” George didn’t look totally happy at this concession.

    Sheeesh! I wish Sandra hadn’t been invited here. Man, I really should have known better than to have come to a party where she was going to be. Ex-girlfriends like her always try to take over and ruin things. That’s what I get for trying to be mature and nice.

    “Oooh! How about ‘Call me’ – by Blondie!” yelled Sharon.

    “Call me when you’re sober,” said Tom.

    “Call me irresponsible!” said Tony.

    “Good one!” said everyone. Everyone except George, that is.

    “You guys – come on! It’s supposed to be names. That’s how the game is played. You know? Like, ‘Call me Ishmael.’” George waved his hands in exasperation.

    “Call me crazy, Georgie, dear – but what a fun idea - at last! Okay everyone - let’s all play Charades now!” Sandra flashed a victorious smile at George.

    Beat me, mug me, just call me Stupid. George sat down and sighed.

  3. Thanks, Casey! =D


    PS - Are you going to post something? It would be fun to read it!

  4. There she is. The gatekeeper of my destiny. Her blue polo stretching in all the right places.

    Keep your mind on the prize, James. It’s about charisma. Suave. Cool.

    I swept my bangs from my face, letting a few strands drop in front of my ear. Hell yeah, I have long hair. I’m a badass. Devil may care.

    “Hey there,” I glance at the nametag, doing my best Dean Martin, “Brittany. I was wondering if you would be able to help me.”

    “Absolutely, sir. Is there anything in particular that you’re looking for today?”

    ‘Well, first off, my name is Jim, but most people call me Jim.” Where the hell did that come from? Dean Martin, not Gene Wilder. Keep moving, Jim.

    “Hello Jim. . .” Her pause stretched into the uncomfortable middle distance.

    “Um, yes, well, I am in the market for a used car. What do you have available?”

    “All of our previously owned vehicles are in the back lot. Feel free to browse.” And she walked away toward the back of the salesroom.

    There goes that plan. Guess I’ll have to charm the sweaty donut-swollen man out on the lot. I had hoped for a phone number as well as a drastic reduction in price, but I’ll settle for the price drop.

    Hope he doesn’t try to give me his number.

  5. B.Nagel, HEE-LARIOUS!! I can't even compete with you and Lightverse today!!

  6. Carly nudges me. "Hey, have you checked out that new guy, Jim? He's kinda hot."
    I shrug and sigh. "Yeh, but he knows it. He wouldn't give us the time of day."
    Carly frowns at me. "Don't say that Megan. We're, like, probably the prettiest girls in the school!"
    I can't help smiling. "So modest," I say.
    Carly smiles too. Then suddenly I feel her elbow nudging me hard in the side.
    'Ouch!" I say, then realise why she's nudging me so hard. My Cool Guy Jim is heading in our direction. Carly wipes tomato sauce from her mouth with the back of her hand. "Do I have any crumbs on my mouth?' she whispers.
    "Who cares?" I say, shrugging. 'He's so up himself i don't care what he thinks. Not my type."
    Carly looks at me as if I'm completely loopy. And then Mr Pretty Boy himself is standing in front of us, with that white-toothed smile and hands casual in his pockets.
    Hey", he says, "my name's Jim, but most people call me...Jim." His voice trails off and suddenly he's looking anywhere but at us, his foot scuffing at the grass. I totally want to laugh out loud, I mean this guy is so lame! Carly actually does laugh out loud and rolls her eyes.
    But then I notice how his cheeks are really flushed and he kind of screws up his face and goes, "Sorry...I'm an ideot."
    "Too right," mutters Carly, who is no longer impressed and is inspecting her nails.
    But something about him...the way he looks so embarrased, as if he wishes a hole in the ground would open up underneath him, makes me say, " wanna join us for lunch or something?"
    Megan!" Carly hisses, but Jim looks so grateful I'm glad I asked.
    This Jim character suddenly seems like he might be worth getting to know...