Funny you should mention it. My life has been going to hell in a
sewing etui for some time now, but that's fairly normal, boring stuff,
mixed in with a bare ration of altering items, as I have been ill.
Here's the interesting tid-bits: I hang with a bunch of buds I've
known for years, meeting every Thurs. at a nearby military base to bowl
and catch up on each others weekly events.
Thurs before last, we were barely inside the building before a couple
of handlers brought in a dog. Me, I'm joking the handlers that he
wasn't much of a drug-sniffer, as my purse was loaded with drugs.
(Picked up my prescriptions beforehand.)
Guy jerked his head back and studied me---(now, keep in mind, due to
thyroid, I look like a mad Bette Davis, which alone causes people to
stare.) My disguise of hanging out with fairly normal-looking older
women must have worked, 'cause I'm still on the loose.
Turns out the dog was a bomb-squad dog.
Another guy in civvies props all the doors open...time passes...I
spent most of Feb. in bed with upper respiratory/bronchial
infection...it's cold, I'm seeing my breath on the air...so I approach
the guy to ask politely why he's airing out my lungs. One hand goes to
his hip, the other he sticks in my face, like a school crossing guard,
as he says they are bringing someone in on a stretcher.
Madder and madder, said the Queen to Alice. I've bowled on a walking
cast one league, but...with an armed guard...from a stretcher??
Eventually a heavily-armed armed phalanx of men arrives, with an
ordinary-looking fellow in the middle of the protective ring.
Sub-machine guns, listening devices, all sorts of high-tech goodies.
We were all curious, so when this cute young fellow sat down behind
me Whoa! sez I to myself, mebbe my disguise isn't working as well as I
thought!! then, looking him over: frisk me, please!!
On a side note, his disguise was transparent--nobody here wears
lumberjack flannels unless they are working in their garage on Sun. But
he was cute, emminently take-home- spankable, so I quizzed him. "Hmmm",
sez I," I don't recognize the guy in the middle as one of our Prezz's
entourage...Who might he be?"
Not that I'm stoopid enough to think these guys are going to spill
the beans to Bette Davis' X 2-- yet, one never knows what a fishing
expedition might yield, subtle and clever as I was being.
"Practice.", was the reply. Hah, we said.
None of us are convinced, though. When one of the women answered her
cell phone, which was equipped with a camera, I thought one of the
guards was going to leap upon her from a great height. A bit of
over-reaction for a trial rum, methinks.
So, adventure follows me wherever I go, dontcha think? And, had this
scenario taken place anywhere other than where it did, I'd have advised
all of us to beat a hasty retreat from the scene.
Cea