In six minutes, only six minutes things can change. Oh not like important stuff, that could take a lifetime. But mood, a 'tude, a bounce, yeah, these kinds of things can turn on a dime. That is if the timing is right and the stimulus is right and the stars and moon are aligned to gravity pull an inch where it counts...
Sitting there taking a yap-a-dap from the dutiful about carpets and the kids, the numbed Laddie McLaughlin mushroomed, as if he had taken a lidocaine shot right to the cerebrum. Numbbbbbb, numbskull, stonato, he the man from Mott Street. Yeah. Mott Street is darkened and salty now. Back when he met her there, she looked like Gracie Glam. And then, too, he had a resemblance to Tom Selleck, when Tom was Magnum PI. But he was a half of a foot shorter...
Buzz... Buzz... Buzz... Buzz...
- four rooms for the price of three
- free upgraded padding
- no interest financing
- ecru gets so dirty
- no shoes in the house!!!!
- D in algebra
- running with the hell raisers down the block
- too much computer
- sheets were stained
- getting a smart mouth
- still owe for last year's summer camp
As he heard Buzz... the vibrator in his left pocket, so close to his left nut that he tip tingled, signaled one long then one short blast. T-E-X-T time! Deftly he pulled out the iPhone and he saw...
Ah... He checked the message and before he could pull it up, several more followed. Sequentially, over those six fateful minutes, Laddie checked each in turn as Rosie Strega droned on. Glam, a 21 year old porn star and student of design, was active. "Bless her", he thought. She was a great tweeter, fun and upbeat, she frequently posted pixx of herself. Damn, who could blame her... with looks like that!
As Strega-donna continued her diatribe, he looked in sequence... at... https://twitter.com/#!/GracieGlam
Damn Sam and damn Laddie too. Like a vision Gracie imaged. In her own way, Gracie froze his brain. He off to the races with the possibilities, which danced in front of him. Lad hardly noticed that he had yessed Strega three times and grunted her twice as much. After all, he had to maintain hubby interest while otherwise engrossed.
By the time he came to his senses Rosie had sidled up to him rubbing her left hip up to his face. Frisky like, she smiled and danced her tongue between her teeth, just a little. Only later did he realize that his afternoon delight preceded by lusting GG was not so much the result of good fortune as it was to agreeing to a $7500 rug job. Sua moglie (his wife) had him by the third Yes!
It was only the next day did he begin to think he was set up. One time, when he used to read, he perused an article in Reader's Digest about the wiles of women. Although he knew Glam could not have known that her tweets cost him dearly, he couldn't help feel a little taken. Just then, he heard Rose yelling...
"Lad, where are you?"
"Here, here, in the kitchen."
"Hurry up, move the furniture out of the living room. Stan's Carpets charges more if the installers have to move the furnishings."
Oh fuck, thought he. "Yes Dear."