walls to be painted with cattail plants and lily pads for when his frog friends come over to play…
She rolled her eyes and jetted her hand in the air, frantically waving the waitress down. The woman approached her, and before she could say a word, Treasure blurted, “I want the entire bottle of this.” She pointed to her empty glass, tapping it with her index finger, creating a clinking sound as if to make an announcement. “Not a refill, not another glass or two more, no ma’am. I want the whole thing , thank you and please hurry.”
She didn’t miss the way the Trevor’s beak dropped open, as if he were clearly dealing with someone uncouth. She smiled wide at him and lifted her glass in the air as if to make a toast, when she actually no longer gave a crap.
I bet his favorite show is the one about those racist wannabe hillbillies, ‘Duck Dynasty’…
“Trevor, I wish to thank you for your company this evening and also for being our designated driver.”
“Erin didn’t say you drank like a fish.” He laughed a bit, making it sound cheery, though his furrowed brows showed the truth. He was disgusted with her.
Mission accomplished.
…And Erin didn’t tell me you looked like marine life. So I guess we are one and the same, Quackenstein…
I hope that with enough liquor, I can forget the whole goddamn night!
“Cheers!”
‡
Chapter Three
“N o Mom, it’s business development and marketing,” Sean stated as he sat in the living room amid an endless collection of colorful International cuckoo clocks that threatened to all chime at the same exact time and scare him half to death. He was camped out in his parents’ home in Queens, Sunnyside, and being home with the ‘old people’ always made him feel a bit more grounded.
“Yeah?” she said in a jovial tone, her face full of surprise as if he’d not declared it to her a million times before.
“Yeah, I’m almost done, too.” He relaxed back in the over-stuffed navy blue chair with snow-white doilies on the arms. “Got like a little over six months to go.” He glanced lazily around his parents’ home that they’d moved into ten years earlier, then turned his attention back toward the television.
“And what are you gonna do with a Business Development Marketing degree, pretty boy?” his older brother by one year chided as he slumped on the couch, gripping a condensation covered can of Miller-lite beer. He gripped the metal tab with two fingers and pulled it back, then brought the can to his tooted lips while simultaneously eyeballing him from the side.
“Ball it up tight and shove it up your ass, Colin, that’s what I’m gonna do with it.” Sean grinned as he got up and joined the bastard on the couch.
“Sean, don’t use that sorta talk in front of your mother,” his father barked from the small kitchen area, hidden from everyone’s eyes and no doubt fixing himself a large plate of leftovers, without offering a single bite to another living soul.
“Sean, you really should eat something,” his mother offered. She sat right across from them in her oversized tangerine and yellow floral housecoat, seemingly reading his mind. “If you ask me,” she looked at the two of them from over her thin-rimmed, shiny green glasses, “you’re lookin’ a bit on the thinner side these days.”
“Thinner side?! Mom, are you losin’ your mind?” His brother flicked his thumb in Sean’s direction as if trying to hitch a ride. “This big bastard right here?! I got some bad news for ya, Mom. Your youngest son here is on some damn steroids.” He hooted. “Sean is a muscle head that eats steroids for breakfast, lunch and dinner!”
“Star-roids?!” She reared back in her seat, her thin lips parted, utter disbelief imprinted on her face. Running her small fingers over the tiny, sparkly white buttons of her gown, she leaned forward and molded her tone around a hushed whisper…as if their home was bugged from the C.I.A. “Aren’t
She rolled her eyes and jetted her hand in the air, frantically waving the waitress down. The woman approached her, and before she could say a word, Treasure blurted, “I want the entire bottle of this.” She pointed to her empty glass, tapping it with her index finger, creating a clinking sound as if to make an announcement. “Not a refill, not another glass or two more, no ma’am. I want the whole thing , thank you and please hurry.”
She didn’t miss the way the Trevor’s beak dropped open, as if he were clearly dealing with someone uncouth. She smiled wide at him and lifted her glass in the air as if to make a toast, when she actually no longer gave a crap.
I bet his favorite show is the one about those racist wannabe hillbillies, ‘Duck Dynasty’…
“Trevor, I wish to thank you for your company this evening and also for being our designated driver.”
“Erin didn’t say you drank like a fish.” He laughed a bit, making it sound cheery, though his furrowed brows showed the truth. He was disgusted with her.
Mission accomplished.
…And Erin didn’t tell me you looked like marine life. So I guess we are one and the same, Quackenstein…
I hope that with enough liquor, I can forget the whole goddamn night!
“Cheers!”
‡
Chapter Three
“N o Mom, it’s business development and marketing,” Sean stated as he sat in the living room amid an endless collection of colorful International cuckoo clocks that threatened to all chime at the same exact time and scare him half to death. He was camped out in his parents’ home in Queens, Sunnyside, and being home with the ‘old people’ always made him feel a bit more grounded.
“Yeah?” she said in a jovial tone, her face full of surprise as if he’d not declared it to her a million times before.
“Yeah, I’m almost done, too.” He relaxed back in the over-stuffed navy blue chair with snow-white doilies on the arms. “Got like a little over six months to go.” He glanced lazily around his parents’ home that they’d moved into ten years earlier, then turned his attention back toward the television.
“And what are you gonna do with a Business Development Marketing degree, pretty boy?” his older brother by one year chided as he slumped on the couch, gripping a condensation covered can of Miller-lite beer. He gripped the metal tab with two fingers and pulled it back, then brought the can to his tooted lips while simultaneously eyeballing him from the side.
“Ball it up tight and shove it up your ass, Colin, that’s what I’m gonna do with it.” Sean grinned as he got up and joined the bastard on the couch.
“Sean, don’t use that sorta talk in front of your mother,” his father barked from the small kitchen area, hidden from everyone’s eyes and no doubt fixing himself a large plate of leftovers, without offering a single bite to another living soul.
“Sean, you really should eat something,” his mother offered. She sat right across from them in her oversized tangerine and yellow floral housecoat, seemingly reading his mind. “If you ask me,” she looked at the two of them from over her thin-rimmed, shiny green glasses, “you’re lookin’ a bit on the thinner side these days.”
“Thinner side?! Mom, are you losin’ your mind?” His brother flicked his thumb in Sean’s direction as if trying to hitch a ride. “This big bastard right here?! I got some bad news for ya, Mom. Your youngest son here is on some damn steroids.” He hooted. “Sean is a muscle head that eats steroids for breakfast, lunch and dinner!”
“Star-roids?!” She reared back in her seat, her thin lips parted, utter disbelief imprinted on her face. Running her small fingers over the tiny, sparkly white buttons of her gown, she leaned forward and molded her tone around a hushed whisper…as if their home was bugged from the C.I.A. “Aren’t
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