Tallsharon's Extraordinary Adventures

All that compromising for nada, nothing, not a damn thing. All the money I wasted on meds to help me cope and sleep, all the trips to the work therapy group (dedicated employees with asshole bosses or supervisors). I’ve put up with so much crap the last 40 years. My mantra “I understand” has gotten me through some tough situations. But it didn’t work this time. She’s such a bitch, he thought as he headed out the door, not even noticing the “good nights”, “see you tomorrow”, or” Jim, Jim, wait up!” He pulled out his keys, and pushed the remote button. Nothing. He realized he was standing in the parking lot of his former employer and his car was gone. Oh shit! Perfect! he screamed, and sat down on the curb, tears streaming down his cheeks. He sat there sobbing quietly, just out of view of the employees clocking out for the day. If you asked him what he was thinking, or what happened during that time, he would give you a blank stare, slowly focusing and responding with “what? And then

I have to be in Houston by noon tomorrow she thought. Better book a seat- so I know if I have to leave tonight. She grabbed her coffee and headed inside to the spare room where the computer was. We have to get wireless installed she mused silently to herself for the hundredth time (at least). Working as a flight attendant since the days when they were called stewardesses she had her life down to a structured routine. She bid for jobs that took her on the road from Sunday to Wednesday if possible because her husband worked retail and had Thursday and Friday off. She also liked lunching with friends in LA or San Diego on Saturdays after her morning yoga class and the farmers market. She pushed the power button and heard the familiar tune as the computer woke up from a night of rest. Quickly opening the browser the flight schedules appeared on her home page and she saw with dismay that all of tomorrows early flights were fully booked and she would have to hustle to make one this after

We pulled up in front of the first house and got out. The house was a rundown ranch style structure with peeling paint on the wood trim. The double garage door was open and a small man with a big smile looked at us as we approached and shouted welcome. At this feet were two small children in diapers crawling on a thick pink fleece blanket. Look around; give me a shout if you see anything you like. Jenny walked over to a table in the corner and was picking up small items and then setting them down again. Since she looked more bored than excited I didn’t bother to see what they were. I was looking at the sleeping bag covered with books to see if there were any cookbooks I didn’t have- although in reality I have more than I need at home already. Jenny looked at me and we both said thank you at the same time as we headed back to the car. I hope the next one has some more interesting things, she said, and I nodded my head in agreement. A lone blue balloon was tied to the mailbox at the

She was lying by the pool, marinating head to toe in Coppertone, her sticky thighs splattered and glued to the vinyl ribs of the lounge chair as the elastic in her bikini bottoms snapped, sagged, and slipped through the cracks. On her back, her saggy tired breasts looked like balloons slowly deflating, and a quick dip in the pool had left her hair frizzing up like Ike Turner in suspenders. The sand invading the pathway to the pool left a gritty mess on the top steps at the shallow end. Her makeup was running, leaving ochre smudges on the white towels the pool boys carelessly tossed at the guests as they scurried back and forth like bait on a hook. The slurping sound of bodies sliding into water was accompanied by the sound of the bartender starting yet another daiquiri- ice clinking violently against the walls of the blender, sliced by the whirling metal blades. I, finished off the last of the rum, scattering tiny red umbrellas, and watched as the tropical breeze sent them spinning r

Winning the lotto had changed so many things in his life. Joey however, was a gift from the old days, and they were celebrating 20 successful years in the import business this May, and 30 years of companionship. Neither man was gay, they would both describe their sex drive as ambivalent, but they had given up trying to convince their families and friends years ago. It didn’t matter. They had just arrived in Barcelona last night; one of their favorite cities in the world. La Boqueria, how could any other market in the world compare to that bustling building full of vendors, and colors and tourists and locals and smells. It always felt like a homecoming and he could find his way to Las Ramblas and the entrance to the market, even if he somehow lost his sight or his mind. It was a haven, a delightful journey away from the rest of the world. Driving into town from the airport sitting on the sticky back seat of an old taxi cab, gazing out the window at the crypts built into the hillside,

Hey! She called down from her balcony. What are you doing back so soon? Oh my god. He’s a Christian. Not just a Christian, a reborn, bible thumping, I have an overwhelming need to convert you, I’m going to hold you hostage until you agree, Christian. Sandy burst into a raucous laugh. Well, Christians aren’t so bad. But for you….maybe not your soul mate. We had decided to meet to get to know each other better, and had agreed on a wine bar near the trolley and his office. I was there first, and ordered a prosecco for myself. I planned to pay my own tab, unless he insisted, and to get something to eat. He walked into the café, and joined me outdoors at a small table. The waiter dashed over “What would you like to drink?” and he said coffee. Coffee. Coffee at a wine bar. I felt like an alcoholic. This is not beginning well. He went on to explain that his ex wife had cleaned him out, and he was living in a house with six other guys in their 50s near the border. He was totally broke

I should’ve had the a/c fixed and gassed up this morning, Sarah thought; well, there’s no sense dwelling on it now since I’m going to be either stuck here in traffic, or stranded at the side of the road- a mile or two from the Genesee exit. There are no gas stations nearby, so I’ve really got a couple of hours to kill. What’ve we got here? She wondered aloud. I’m bored. The car just ahead was about two months overdue for a wash., although it was a late model Lexus. The rear bumper was covered with stickers” Hang up the damn phone and drive” “Jesus loves unborn babies”, “My child was a royal screw up at Billings Elementary. The back windshield continued the diatribe “You suck, I’ll eat baby deer if I want to", next to a large rifle shaped sticker screaming “Shut the F### Up!" Oh boy, I thought, here we have a real winner. Is it a man or a woman, how old is they? Where do they work? The driver of the Lexus turned her head and Sarah realized it was a woman. Oh God no. Her

Made in China Do you want to go to disco? The guide asked me as the group returned from the day trip on the river to our hotel in Guilin. It was bitterly cold, the week before Chinese New Year and the 500 room hotel had 495 vacant rooms. I’m a solo traveler but I seldom venture out alone after dark, preferring instead to launch myself into the awakening dawn and spend the day exhausting myself with vibrant images of other cultures. No I said. I have an early flight and I’m worn out from the cold. He bowed slightly and moved quietly through the front door of the hotel- not pushing, no expectations, polite and resigned to another night alone in his tiny cement room down the 3rd alley- where the smells of the city were frozen into his flesh. ©2010 sharonjcorrigan

Sleeping with dogs begins when you are quietly reading or watching TV or paying your bills and they are sprawled out nearby legs in the air, sometimes running in place or twitching, and making funny little sounds. Then in an instant they smell another dog outside, or a bird, or a rabbit and they are on their feet in full protective mode, racing from one end of the house to another, barking barking barking. Moments later they are back in their spot snoozing away. At my home 8:00 is bed time. Just like the alarm in the morning, my dogs know how to read clocks and they let me know when it is time. Daylight savings and other time changes throw them off by an hour either way, and sometimes they just feel like playing in the middle of the night for no reason I can figure. So I’m sitting calmly and have two dogs sitting right in front of me, searching my face, and letting me know it’s time to turn off the computer or the TV and head for the bedroom. If I choose to ignore them, they wil