Laws
For Love
Written by Marsha Mellow
February
1st - Dear little Hello Kitty Diary. What is wrong with
the freaking world and am I the only one who sees it?
Valentines Day is a joke and the joke is on all the stupid
people that rush out buying cards with words written by
someone else, flowers and cuddly little plush stuffed
bears. This gross injustice is all done because people
feel insecure and have to give their flavor of the moment
a gift. This making the guys and dolls of Hallmark, candy
makers and the florist richer, but not the little Thai
kids who have to stuff and sew those horrendous stuffed
toys together. I am sure they are still poor, living in
a whicker hut and dining on fish heads. No faster than
the tinsel and ornaments been put away does the Valentine
vomit fill the shelves of stores. Let’s face it,
Valentines day is for scum. I will admit that I myself
used to be one of those saps, I even went as far as swishing
into Build-A-Bear one year making a bunny dressed in silky
boxers that said in my most sexy voice “Some bunny
loves you and that some bunny is me!” I still have
that bunny. If you take away your love I take away the
gifts I gave you. Plus it was not one of those cheap Thai
ones. Now, Hello Kitty Diary, I know what you must be
thinking - how have I separated myself from the insecure
flock of lovers of the world? Simple. I have Galveston’s
city counsel to thank for that.
Now
I know a lot of people were really upset about this recent
smoking ban and I was one of them - until I got my first
ticket for smoking outside of Club Groove. I had just
finished a show and needed one of my Camel Crushes real
bad. I was standing out in the cold, minding my own business,
when he strolled up into my life. Officer Caliente, he
tall, dark, Latin and manly! At first I was caught off
guard and thought that he was a stripper because I am
not used to Galveston’s finest being this HOT, least
of all in shape and not smelling like Popeye’s.
It looked as if he had pulled the sexy crayola from the
box and colored on his tight policeman uniform. I felt
like a bit of a perv because my baby blues were fixated
on his nightstick.
“Excuse
me, Miss,” he said as he pulled out his little ticket
book from his back pocket - and how he got it in there
is still a mystery. “But I am afraid I am going
to have to write you a ticket.”
“Oh
props! That’s cute,” I said blowing smoke
in his face, “it really is funny but do I look stupid
enough to get married? Seriously do I look that stupid?
Now unless you need to practice frisking, Johnny Stripper-Law,
I am sure you are looking for a bachelorette party at
the club down the street.” “Cute Ms. Mellow
but I am afraid I am really going to have to write you
a ticket for breaking the new city ordnance regarding
smoking in public.”
“Seriously
you are going to charge me with smoking? What the hell
is wrong with this picture? What kind of law is that?
I am outside! What other crazy laws does the city counsel
have up their sleeves? Oh let me guess - a law that says
homosexual are only allowed to go to the beach on days
that are prime numbers unless it's a leap year in which
case it is every even number that’s a prime number,
or perhaps not texting while driving, no glue sniffing,
sit on the sidewalk get a $500 fine, no littering out
of an airplane, don’t land your airplane on the
beach, no beer on a playground without a permit, no speeding
on bicycle?”
Officer
Calientte continued to apologize, agreeing with how dumb
it was as he took all of my information.
I
signed for the ticket and told him that he now had my
phone number, but a phone number is like a condom it only
works if you use it.
As
he walked away to go keep the good people of Galveston
safe I felt there was a spark between us. A month prior
I had gotten a ticket while speeding on my way to happy
hour at Strand Bar & Grill and was so angry that all
I wanted to do was rip the arm off of a Care Bear and
beat Rainbow Brite with it until she bleed glitter. Not
this time though. I was pretty certain that he had winked
at me but that might have been from me blowing smoke in
his masculine face.
February
2nd - I know that I have many addictions: Pepsi, Peanut
Butter M&M’s, Cheese-Itz, extremely dirty gutter
whore Grey Goose martini’s with bleu cheese stuffed
olives, but there are two more - rattoes, which is a jalapeno
stuffed with shrimp and cheese and do not get me started
on sweet potato fries. I love sweet potatoes. In fact
in school when I was a kid and we had sweet potatoes I
would trade my main course and whatever other favors I
could come up with for God’s vegetable. Now on the
island the only place to get this is at the Strand Bar
& Grill. I am worried that the guy Shawn that works
there might think I am stalking him and I am sure Galveston
has a law about that too.
On
that day though I was meeting my hasbian friend (that
is a girl that used to be a lesbian but saw the light
and switched back to men) Mechel,. Now someone lacking
fashion sense is not who I would normally be downing dirty
marshtinis with but she has a skill. She is actually on
probation for hacking into the FBI’s most top-secret
files. And some would say that lesbians do not serve a
purpose but not I! I lured her there to hack into the
Galveston’s police department’s computer to
pull up Officer Caliente schedule. It took some coaxing,
and a few promises that will be hard to keep, but after
an hour I had all the info I ever needed to know about
my new prey, I mean love interest.
After
suffering through Mechel’s dilemmas of leaving flannel
in her past I was ready to beat a baby seal with a Ken
doll dressed in Malibu Barbie’s swimsuit. The only
thing that made her company bearable was the sweet potato
fries and Grey Goose.
Later
that night I mapped out a plan that was sure to make Officer
Caliente fall for me - if we kept bumping into each other
he would think it was serendipity.
February
12th – Have quite the collection of tickets now.
My favorite was the one I got for sniffing model glue
and speeding by my love prey at top speed on Blake’s
bicycle. Trust that was no small feat in five-inch Gucci
sling backs.
The
problem is that I did not anticipate the cost of these
tickets and need money to pay them. And if I could not
pay for them they will throw me in jail and then some
other whore would get their love paws on my officer.
I
sat there on my sofa thinking, as I sucked the bleu cheese
from my olives and drowned my worries in Grey Goose. Then
I got the greatest idea in the world as I was watching
the news and they were doing the crime stoppers bit.
That
was a problem because the only person I knew that had
been part of any crimes recently was me.
As
I paced the floor I continued to think then the 2”B’s”
showed up with all of their glittery craft supplies. I
had been helping Brandy and Blake decorate their valentine’s
boxes for years. I noticed however that Blake was sporting
a black eye and I enquired how he had got the shiner.
He told me it was from Brandy who had caught him desecrating
her Barbie’s.
I
excused myself and went into the other room and quickly
called CPS. Now the 2”B’s” had not really
been abused but that was not my problem. I told the lady
on the phone about abuse and drinking and all kinds of
stuff - I actually stole the scene from Breakfast Club
where John Bender goes on about what happens when you
spill paint in the garage at his house. I even quoted
what I had heard one night from the drunken grandmother,
“Stupid, worthless, no good, gosh darn, freeloading
son of a, big mouth, know-it-all, a-hole, jerk.”
It was hard to keep from laughing as i told them that
all they ever get to eat is turkey pot pies and that is
when they get to eat.
The
voice on the other end was just mortified from the tale
that I had delivered.
She
told me that they would start an investigation immediately.
Told
her that was good and how I could not live knowing this
was going on. Then the waters got a little murky. I started
giving her my address and the proper spelling of my name
and she told me she did not need it. “Well how would
I get my money,” I asked bewildered. Wasn’t
turning in bad parents like crime stoppers? No it is not.
I discovered you don’t get anything, just a thank
you. I quickly retracted my story and yelled SIKE! That’s
right one of the things to bring back in fashion in 2010
is using SIKE!
Now
back to square one.
February
14th V-Day – here it is: love day. And as God as
my witness Officer Caliente would be mine on this day
filled with cinnamon hearts and other goodies made in
the name of love.
I
took a new approach. I made my home look like a crime
scene. Flower petals everywhere, a ripped up plush Thai
cuddly bear that fell apart way too easily. They really
need stricter work habits for those three year olds. By
the time the hasbian and I were done it looked like cupid
had been slaughtered by the Manson family in my home but
that was only step one.
Next
I had the hasbian tie me up and place me in a warm bubble
bath, light candles, pop the cork on the Dom Perignon
so it could breathe before my officer of love showed up,
put on a Michael Buble cd and had her call 911 with strict
instructions that they send Officer Caliente to the crime
scene.
Forty-five
minutes later and well on my way to looking like a California
raisin I heard the front door slam open. He was here and
on his way to save me! I was a bit confused because the
steps running up the stairs were not those of a 6”2
man weighing 180lbs instead the heavy breathing told me
that they were the chunky monkey steps of a 5’7
280lb man.
To
my shock and anger Officer tubby stormed into my bathroom
gun drawn.
He
was completely out of breath but that did not keep him
from singling out my sweet potato fries I had delivered
for my romantic rescue.
“Out!
GET OUT!”
This
must be the most humiliated moment of my life… I
am giving up on Officer Caliente, paying the tickets and
moving on…
|
