Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Wild Wednesday


  1. Keith heard through the grapevine that VH-1 was holding an open audition call for an upcoming production. The word was they were looking for kids who looked like punks. Keith was hardly a kid anymore at thirty-seven, but on a dare from his significant other, and with the help of a couple of cheerfully motivated friends, he pulled together an outfit he hoped might garner him a spot in a music video or a role on a reality TV show. It had always been a fantasy of his to do something like this.

    The ‘do was the toughest part for Keith since his hairline was receding, but Jayce solved the problem by shaving it on the sides to match the front. Gel and other goop made the rest of it spiky. Satisfied that he looked no worse than any other aging rocker, Keith left for the city. When he arrived at the audition location, he got on queue.

    In front of him was a kid with an orange-y Mohawk and funky shades, who looked like he couldn’t have been more than fourteen or fifteen years old. The kid said, “You a fan of Rumble Rod and the Road Kill, dude?”

    Keith mumbled some sort of non-answer and the kid nodded. “S’Righteous, dude.” Keith figured he passed muster.

    Eventually, the group of punk wannabes which included Keith were called into the studio. Although he really worked it through some fairly complicated choreography, Keith didn’t get cast.

    The kid with the orange Mohawk patted his shoulder. “Sorry you didn’t get the gig, dude.”

    “Thanks,” said Keith, adding, “Hey - least I tried. But I’m not sure how I’m going to explain the hair style back at my office tomorrow. I work in an accounting firm – and I called out sick today to do this.”

  2. Before we met, Cade told me that he was in a band. I thought it was really cool. I mean, I'd told him that I was in the Math club... so I knew that extracurriculars looked great on college apps.

    After nearly two months of cyber dating, he finally got up the courage to ask me to meet. Now, of course I was hesitant. He could have been a serial killer! But... he wrote really sweet poems and talked about his kitten. People that loved kittens weren't mass murderers.

    He invited me to one of his shows in his town about thirty miles away. I told my parents I was going to Molly Martin's sleepover (as if) and that I'd be home in the morning. I didn't actually plan on staying out all night, but I figured it was best to keep my options open.

    Well, when I got to the Kennel Club--the name of the bar--Cade had left my name on the list at the door. I felt AMAZING! How often do you end up on a list of anything?

    When I got inside... it wasn't at all what I thought I'd saw. There were punk rockers, mohawks, bars of metal through places I didn't know could be pierced!

    "Marissa!" I heard.

    Finally. I swung around, my heart in my throat, to meet Cade. Only... he didn't look anything like his profile picture. His blonde hair wasn't smooth and pushed behind his ears. His black glasses weren't resting on his nose. No, actually, there was a hoop through his nose.

    He smiled, a little self-conciously. "I should have warned you, huh?"

    I stared at him for a second and then reached out to touch the sharp spikes of his pink hair. I sighed with relief.

    I pushed up the sleeve of my white blouse to reveal the tatoo that covered my entire right arm. "Thank God," I said with a smile. "I was tired of playing normal."

    And then I kissed him.

  3. Suzanne - what a great story! I'd love to see this develop further into where the relationship goes.

  4. Thanks, lightverse! And yours cracked me up. Especially the "S’Righteous, dude" hahaha

  5. I tossed my stack of books on the kitchen table and opened the fridge. It had been a wreck of a day at school and I needed an ice cold Coke, barbeque potato chips and quality time with Facebook.

    I had just torn open the chip bag when a cyclone ripped through the kitchen, knocking the bag out of my grasp. Tangy mesquite morsels sailed through the air.

    The cyclone came to an abrupt halt and stared at me, wide-eyed. My little brother Kevin and his friend Derek the Destroyer.

    I was too tired to yell at them. It wouldn't have mattered anyway. They were five-the male brain at that age had already entered the oblivious phase, never to return.

    I just stood in the middle of the chaos as Kevin, Derek, and our Golden Retriever, Lucky, fought each other for the chips on the floor.

    Mom rushed into the kitchen completely ignoring the wrestling match.

    "Good, you're home," she was breathless.

    I groaned. This was already not a good sign.

    "I've got to run." She grabbed her keys. "Grandad was caught driving without a license again." She yanked opened the back door.

    "Hey!" I called out, "what about these two?" I pointed to the floor.

    "Oh, right." mom paused, "Derek is staying for dinner. Handle it."

    She ran out the door. I stomped my foot like a five year old. That felt good. I stomped again and added a growl. The boys looked up, interested.

    "Annie, can we go to the playground?" begged Kevin, "Puhleeez?"

    Derek was hopping up and down in agreement. I wasn't in any mood to argue or negotiate. I knew I'd never win.

    My mood brightened when I suddenly remembered that we would have to 'casually' stroll by that new pub on the next block. There were always cute guys hanging out front.

    "Okay sure, but you guys better behave." I warned. Like that would do any good.

    "Let's go--where are your leashes?" I joked.

    The boys burst into ear-splitting laughter. How could such small human beings have such loud mouths? Yeesh.

    As we approached the pub I could see a group hanging against the building. These guys were more over-the-top than most I'd seen.

    Shameless, Kevin and Derek let loose with their first impressions.

    "Annie, Annie, check out the guy with the yellow mohawk!" Kevin excitedly tugged my jacket.

    Derek chimed in, pointing. "Look, that guy has a PINK one!"

    Instant mortification. I tried to shush them as inconspicuously as possible but I could feel my face succumbing to the hot blush that began at my throat.

    When we were directly in front of the group, who were now just as interested in us, Derek stopped.

    "Dude, why are you wearing a skirt?" he point-blank asked.

    "It's called a kilt, little man." the 'dude' explained. "Warriors in Scotland used to wear them."

    "COOL!" both boys chorused.

    I relaxed, no longer embarrassed. These two were better than a cute puppy!

    The mohawk guys, Sam and Jack, bent down and let the boys touch their spiky locks, then graciously allowed them to have a go at modeling their leather jackets.

    These guys were cute but a little out of my comfort zone. Besides, my parents would never go for it.

    We said our goodbyes. Kevin and Derek insisted on intricate high five maneuvers. To my surprise, the boys nixed the playground and wanted to return home instead.

    "Okay you toads," I ordered, "upstairs while I make dinner."

    More ear-damaging laughter as they pounded up the stairs, Lucky on their heels.

    I threw together the standard kid friendly meal;chicken nuggets, mac & cheese and vegetable--ketchup.

    I lost track of time when Kari called so it was over an hour since I'd sent them upstairs.
    It was awfully quiet. Not a good sign.

    "Kevin, Derek!" I shouted, "Dinner!"

    After a few minutes and no boys, I turned to shout again. The yell stuck in my throat.

    Standing in front of me were two mini versions of Sam and Jack.

    Holy mother of...

    "What the heck did you do?" I squeaked.

    Kevin's blond crew cut, and most of his scalp were now flourescent yellow. Derek's sandy hair and scalp were flourescent pink. In their hands were my highlighter pens.

    Crap! Were those things permanent?

  6. This blog is so fun! Loved these three too!

  7. Deb M - What a fun read!
    Thanks, Casey!

  8. This blog IS fun! Thanks, Casey & lightverse!
    Lightverse, your posts are great.