Reuben told me that he sold scarves and is turned on by images of polar bears. Turns out he was only half a liar.
The Parking Meter
Five more minutes. Just five more minutes. Tabitha was freezing. The weather report said it was ten below with the windchill. Only five more minutes. Maybe she should have worn gloves. A hat would have been practical. She was determined to get her money’s worth.
Jim Tuck
Jim never forgot to tuck in his shirt. T-shirt into sweatpants. Button-down into slacks. Friday night, collar-up, half-zip cotton shirt into jeans.
On Tuesday he wore a loose fitting long-sleeve workout shirt seemingly tucked into his running shorts. The shirt was one size too big. He was sloppy with the back tuck. The taxi door was closed too quickly. Jim was dragged twelve blocks.
His mother now tucks in his shirts for him. Right after she bathes him.
The Hotel Night Manager
Everything was open to Belmont Johnson. His home was pillared. His marriage allowed for outside partners. He drove a convertible. He neglected to wear a toupee or shave his head completely. A lifetime of preparation for his new job.
Oklahoma Spot Thieves
The world seemed like a wonderful place to Elizabeth. That was before she moved to Tulsa. She doesn’t know whether she will ever see her dog again.
The Eulogy
Jerry: “Do not brandish that.”
Gary: “Brandish?”
Jerry: “You’re brandishing your firearm.”
Gary: “Shut your mouth.”
Jerry: “I only ask that you don’t brandish-”
Gary “We may never figure out how Jerry ended up dead in an abandoned warehouse. He was a great man. He was a fancy word-user. Used words like daunting, flourish and brandish. We’ll miss you Jerry.”
The Newborn
Reginald?
No.
Bernard?
Noooooo.
Matthew?
Ohhhh. No.
Timothy?
Horace. Not now.
He’s about to be here. How ’bout Robert?
Your father? Horace he was a……..ohhhhhh…..sex pervert.
Randall?
No.
Daniel?
Stop. These are all terrible.
William?
No.
Alec, Stephen?
Stop naming Baldwins!
Jaden?
Please.
I've got it.
Ladies and Gentleman, the 53rd President of the United States of America.
Years ago, at my birth, a young nurse brought a basket of fruit into the delivery room. Such was fate. Now me and my unusual name will lead us through the second half of the 21st Century.
The Arm Wrestler
Bill clutched his opponent's hand. He pushed as hard as he could. Thoughts of his childhood flashed in front of him. He loved to wear the finger gloves. Before all the glory and the weightlifting and the hand exercising, he loved those gloves. He was wearing them now.
The Arm Wrestler
It is a mental game. Believe me. Columbus, Rockford, Mobile, the cities and the workouts change, but the game remains the same. Courtney was a female in a man’s world, but this was a gay bar. She felt even more alien at this competition. Then she put on her gloves and the powder. She strapped her elbow in place. Darius looked affected by his surroundings.
A third place finish and an advance towards her bus ticket to Scotsdale. She now knew she could handle anything.
The Arm Wrestler
“David! David, get in here.”
“Yes, dad.”
“I tripped over your flippin’ skateboard again. What did I tell you?”
“Mom said it was okay.”
“Dammit. I’m the man out there and I’m the man in this house.”
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