Through The Looking Glass and Back

First of all I would like to preface this post with: Not all men can wear pink, those that can… Do.

Well, if you came here from reading Alice to see if what she said holds water on my recent visit through the looking glass, then you came to the right place. Truth, however, I might add, is nothing more than myth told over and over.  But now that you’re here, this is how I remember it.

Five hour flight, switched planes in Vegas, arrived in Austin, made it through security without mishap this time and came to the - Where people wait for you, because they are not allowed past certain security checkpoints - waiting area.

And there she was, standing all of 5’2” and if she were holding about three boxes of wet crackers. I would say that would leave her at about 125 pounds with auburn hair and just enough makeup to be made up and a smile that would set an ice berg on fire.

I should have left right then and there. But unlike Odysseus who had Circe to warn him of the dangers of the singing creatures who lured men to their death on the rocks around their island and that if he really felt that he must listen, he should have his men plug their ears with beeswax and tie him to the mast to keep him from escaping.

For me, no men, no beeswax, no mast to be tied to..

I said hello.

She looked into me and said: Seriously?

I replied: Seriously.

Game on.

From the airway we made it to San Marcos in heat that I suspect was a sun flare gone renegade that had decided to take up residence in Texas.

Alice has a wonderful home, the tour consisted of her standing in the living room and pointing out different rooms, and ending with a nod towards the upstairs where she said I would be staying in her son’s room. He was to be out of town for the weekend.  Very convenient, I thought.  That was the last thought I was to have for anything that may have worked for my benefit.

After not eating the night before, Saturday morning I awoke to the smell of coffee. You know, drinking breakfast is very time efficient especially if you want to get out and take care of a facet leak in the front yard before the day’s heat begins belching. And besides, I was for sure that I would be having banana pancakes Sunday morning so I didn’t give the liquid breakfast much thought.   

Now, I'm not exactly sure how the adage came about that things in Texas are big, however, I’m here to say that it is mostly talk - things are just the right size. EXCEPT for wasps: I have never in all my years, seen insects that were so big that if there were three in the immediate area you could clearly give each one of them a name.  And then later on, be able to identify them by said name.  Big.

Sunday morning, more coffee – Alice was not kidding when she says she does not eat. There were a few times I had to poke her to see if perhaps she may just be a bad dream. She wasn’t. So I thought, ok she doesn't  eat, so why not make coffee for her, what have I to lose? Banana Pancakes were not going to happen and besides she is constantly going on and on about how her kids are the best coffee makers this side of New York. Which I'm sure they are. And trust me when I say this: It takes Alice at least, at least two hours and four cups of coffee to wake up in the morning.

Not finding the can of coffee that is morning fare in wonderland, I did come across what I thought was coffee in one of the cupboards. My first clue that it wasn’t would have been the best used by date and second, the title on the bag; Moku Javo Wakeup.  I mean, who in the fuck has Moku Javo Wakeup in their cupboards if it is not to be consumed? Oh yeah, apparently people that feed imitation coffee beans to wasps to keep them mean.

So.

I make her a cup of Moku Javo Wakeup, two heaping spoons of sugar, one spoonful of creamer and I’m off to her bedroom all morning Alvin and shit… Hi hon, wake up, I have coffee for you.

Now let me tell you, if I’m lying, I’m dying.

She takes one sip and all hell breaks lose… she is so up and out of that bed and off to the kitchen that all I saw was the back of her undies and a flurry of pixie like auburn hair.  SHE was awake and only after one sip.  Heh, I would like to see her kids match that when it comes to getting her out of bed in the morning.

She immediately set to making a pot of real coffee, something she was not used to, I’m sure, and she was fuming.  I didn’t know what to expect at this juncture, but I was sure I could take her, I have a few more pounds on her and have her by at least a foot in height and reach.  But as I was summoning my Tai Chi skills she began to calm down.  Crisis averted.

Now my only saving grace, so to speak, was that her daughter arrived and once she found out that I hadn’t eaten in two days, set a plan in place to go to the hardware store, she said that actually it was ruse to get Alice out of the house and then once we were out we would go somewhere for lunch.  I suggested a wasp free establishment.  God does work in mysterious ways.  I love that girl and owe her my life.

Oh yeah, I should also mention that the first real conversation Alice and I had was about our journals, I complemented her on ten plus years of success with Assume Nothing.

She thanked me cordially and then said: You know… if one were to just read a few posts from WLA they would think you’re very misogynistic.

I assured her that she was misled on that assumption only for the fact that I equally offend everyone, including, but not limited to men, women, mothers, aunts, kids and even Jesus and The Pope. 

And then there was this little ditty; Mr. Valles was a perfect gentleman, very entertaining, a laid back go with the flow type of guy. Nothing at all like the “journal slut reputation” he was branded with…

Journal Slut: WTF is up with that?   People that know and love me will tell you that without a doubt I am not a journal slut but more of a social tramp.  THERE is a difference for cryinoutloud: A tramp wears pink.

Would I go back and spend more time with Alice if the gods warrant?  Hell yeah, but I'm taking a lunch sack.

 

Epilogue;

QUESTION: What kind of man titles his journal Water Lilly Alley?

ANSWER: A man that can.

Comments

[Sasha]

Alvin, Alvin, Alvin...we need to catch up soon. I'm off to write an email to you. *sigh*

[Sandy]

Glad to see you survived your adventure..Next time try Kansas...I hear they have a killer Tornado ride -Situation comedy. Seriously, man. Even if you do wear pink!!
love ya

[Alvin]

Marsha, Marsha, Marsha, I mean Sasha, Sasha, Sasha, please do.

Sandy: Yeah, flying houses in Kansas as well and they do pack a wallop.

[Alice]

In all fairness, Alvin can pull off pink even with those red fuck me pumps he wears with white knee high socks.

[Alvin]

Yes Luv, they are rather smashing, however, Eddie Izzard just rang and needs them back. Oh well, what can I say... It was fab having them. Life really is all about cake or death.

ta
=a=

[Carol]

I hope you very nice to Alice and didn't lead her astray. I do hope she led you astray however.

[Carol]

of course I meant you were very nice

[Alvin]

Thanks Carol, so right you are. On both accounts.