Quote from: Big J on October 15, 2019, 20:12:57 PM....... tried to chat with hot local singles. Like the Grove has hot local singles!
Hot local singles – have not seen one since I was 16. For sure, a fortuitous mention by Big J, since I'm working on the chapter of my book, 'Dancing In The Sunlight'. Bullets from the chapter/digested version:
1. Local hermits used to call my dad's general store and have me deliver beer
2. My father would paper bag the beer, tape the opening, and write the price on the outside
3. I'd deliver the beer and bring my father the money
4. Hermits called. I answered. "Hippie, get up here quick and bring me a 6-pack of Old Milwaukee."
5. Young, bikini clad, barefooted gal dancing in the yard w/ Hermit #1 when I arrived at the hermit's shack
6. Transistor radio wedged in fork of yard tree, blasting music (don't remember the tune)
7. Hermit #2 perched on the porch, "Hippie, we thought you might want some of this."
8. Hippie, "No I don't think so."
9. Hermit #2 grabs gal, pulls her into shack
10. Hermit #2 places gal on bed and pulls down bikini bottom, spreads legs
11. Hippie still holding bagged beer
12. Hermit #2 smothers gal's privates w/ baby powder, and buries head
13. Hermit #2 emerges looking like a giant insect that's collected the motherload of white pollen
14. Hermit #2, "See Hippie, there's nothing wrong w/ this."
15. Hippie collects beer money and returns home – a changed young man
It is no secret why I am warped, but I learned so much from these guys. They provided several other wonderful life changing tutorials.
Yes. List format. I'm a list maker/keeper.
Interesting delivery you made, Mudwall. It causes me to recollect personal encounters of years gone by. And, boy, do I have plenty to recollect.
1. Once, as a younger fellow, I sold/administered pest control/termite services.
2. Upon visiting a new customer early one morning, I met Ms. Triplett. She was in the vicinity of 85 years of age.
3. After convincing her into a contract and completing the sale, I informed her that I'd be getting to work now.
4. I fetched my B&G sprayer from my work truck's toolbox as I stashed away the newly completed paperwork.
5. After "treating" the outside of her home for various insect life, I returned to the interior of her small house.
6. "Ms. Triplett?" No answer. Louder, "MS. TRIPLETT!??" No response again.
7. Shrugging my shoulders, I just carried on with the "treating" of the inside of her home.
8. Not being familiar with this home, I didn't know where anything was located for the most part.
9. At one point, I exit a hallway, make what is basically a U-turn into a doorway (her bedroom, unfortunately), and I all but directly slam my nether region at full walking speed into Ms. Triplett.
10. Ms. Triplett is bent over, facing directly away from myself, while pulling a fresh pair of underwear up over her ankles (touch your toes style - very flexible for an octogenarian).
11. Shocked, ghostly pale, and almost literally frozen with terror, I skid my shoes to a sudden stop, and miraculously, I do not make contact with her rear and fully exposed genitalia. Thankfully, she can't hear and is largely unaware of anything taking place in her immediate surroundings.
12. I bound off silently in the opposite direction across her living area like a spooked white-tailed deer while holding my breath tightly as to not make a peep.
13. At the truck, I just stare blankly into the wooded side-yard. Minutes pass, unsure what to do.
14. Like nothing ever took place -- i re-enter the home and there she is beginning to prepare breakfast for herself at the kitchen counter.
15. A big "THANK YOU" for your business as I secure her signature approving a job well done.
16. 13 or so years later, and I've never forgotten this. Never will, I guess.
17. I guess Ms. Triplett has likely passed at this point.
18. Warped, as Mudwall calls it. Things stick with you.
** Names and/or places may have been altered for confidentiality purposes.