“How did you two crazy love-birds meet?” It seems to be a question that I hear a lot, but the answer varies as the winds blow, or the seasons change.
When do we really meet someone? Was it just a passing flirt, or did she rear-end me on the main highway, just because I had a “Save the White Rabbits” sticker on my back window? Was it love at first sight? That is another good one. Was is love, I might just ask myself, when she dragged me from my car, kicking me with her motorcycle boots, telling me that I was more worthless than the last man that cursed her, and told her she was good for nothing, and now By Gum, he/I was going to pay for words like that!
The officers called out to speak to the two motorists involved in the crash, had to hold her, pinning her arms, while she threatened to shoot me, with dismemberment to follow, then tossing my worthless body-parts into the blue, blue sea.
We just sat there, Lola and I while the whitecaps played with the Seagulls. “It was right here, I threw his hapless butt into the sea” she told the crime investigators. I offered her a smoke while she told me her tale, but she declined, “Oh, I don’t smoke, but don’t let that stop you”. I didn’t smoke as well, but my mother told me “Always be polite to women who have killed and disposed of their former lovers. Remember it might just have been you”. That is when Lola fell for me. That was the statement that caused us to be together today. Just one small puff of a cigarette, we both didn’t smoke, but shared together, while the Seagulls cried, and her motorcycle sighed.
“You should really be writing some of this down” she said, while she took a long dry drag from her Mt Douglas Longs. A very long drag stretching back to the last Ice Age, I would imagine. I told her how I had been looking for a job in the local Homer-Kenai Circus, but those kind of jobs were amazingly not that easy to score. She just reached over and kissed me, and on the lips no less, just before I wondered, if I was getting anywhere with her.
She just sat there tightening the laces on her motorcycle boots as I watched her. “Yes siree, nice and tight. The tighter the better” she just intoned, while taking another non-drag from her cigarette.
I said, it looked just like when my Circus Camel needed to be tethered. I had just put the rope around its head, when it rose up, and tried to escape, but threw a shoe in the process. “That’s when a woman stood up in the crowd and said “Wow. You really are adept at tying ropes, aren’t you?” “I could use a man like you in my life!”
Lola wasn’t one to mince words. When she wanted her ropes tight, then she needed/wanted someone skilled in Camel Tethering to do her right. I was just standing there with my Camel, and the remains of my career in the Circus business, when she came over to me and asked for a light. I slapped my pockets looking for one, when the fellow next to me said, “Funny. This reminds me of the story about the 2 Caribou and the Moose, who came into that Bar In Moose Snout. It was a Cold Winter’s Summer day when the first one said to the other 2-” his buddy started to laugh and they were slapping each other on the back, when Lola asked, “Why don’t we ever hear the end to that joke?”
I was just about done tucking Lola in for the night. I had tightened things to her liking, when she asked me “What ever did happen to that Camel that threw the shoe?”
That question defines my life in a nutshell. A piece of dust swept under the Imitation Grizzly Bear Rug, a Camel spitting dates, while I was wanting to meet her in the dark of an Alaskan Summer Night, tempting her over to my table at the Moose Snout Lodge with my two rapidly melting ice-cubes, while she shouldered her 30-30 Winchester, just before she bit my ear and motioned me up the back stairwell with her hands running along the barrel of the gun as if, as if
I just sat on the back porch having a bit of a think while the Caribou Tails swayed in the background. Lola came up to me with a cup of Kenai Java, while patting me on the back, saying “That Chicken Bone need not get stuck down your throat, while I am around”
And the volcanoes puffed a bit, and the earth shook along where the Pacific Plate was thrusting into the North American Plate, and Lola said, “Oh, I love it how you talk dirty like that…….”
And that Camel? Well, that is another story for another time, when I tell the story of how Lola and I met. Again….