I haven’t been around much this week. I’ve been the victim of the attack of a noxious antibiotic. A vile, loathsome, yucky antibiotic. Seriously, I was sick as hell the other day. And though it’s improving since I switched to penicillin, I’m still kinda gurgling, you know?
But Tuesday. Oh, Tuesday. Have you read my most recent episode of “Second Seat” with Ralph? Yeah, that. And if you haven’t read it, it’s probably best you don’t look for the search bar on the right-hand side of my blog page (or the bottom, if you’re on a phone) and type in “Ralph.” Waaaay TMI, man.
So yeah, that’s where I’m at. Hoping to be raring to go by the time I have to take Alex to a kiddie birthday party on Saturday. And not raring to go to the potty. Wish me luck.
Kyra sits at the window. Sean takes the seat beside her.
Kyra: Oh God, not you again.
Sean: Yep. Me again.
Kyra: Well at least I won’t have to worry about seeing you for a while. I’m flying down to see my gramma in Florida.
Sean: Hope you’re in good shape.
Kyra: What for?
Sean: Ever been on a plane before?
Kyra: Nope. First time.
Sean: ‘Coz you’ve gotta flap your arms or the plane won’t take off.
Kyra: Bullshit.
Sean: Seriously. If everyone doesn’t flap their arms, the plane won’t leave the ground. All part of cost cutting and energy environmental crap. It was on the news.
Kyra stares at him.
Sean: Ask anyone.
Kyra turns away, squeezing her arm muscles discretely as she looks out the window.
Winston with a computer mouse on his head: such a patient pup.
And a wonderful time was had by all.
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CeeGee sits at the window, talking on her phone. Remy takes the seat beside her.
CeeGee:(into her phone) Boots. What are you wearing? (pause) Yes, that’s all I’m wearing. (pause) That noise in the background? Its the beating of my heart. (pause) I’m in bed, where are you? (pause) Oh yes, take it out, big boy.
Remy: (shaking his head and mumbling) Unbelievable.
CeeGee:(glares at Remy) Oh that’s just the TV. So where were we? Oh yeah, I was just pinching my …
Remy: (singing) Feelings. Nothing more than feelings.
CeeGee:(eyes wide, if-looks-could-kill glare at Remy) It’s the radio. (pause) Yes, I listen to the radio while I’m watching TV. The point is, I’m not wearing anything except boots. Now let’s get on with it, shall we? (pause) Yeah … that’s more like it. Show me what you got, baby!
Remy:(loudly) Tickets! Get your tickets here!
CeeGee: Oh yes, baby, yes! (pause) It’s nothing, just do it, baby, do it! Oh I’m so hot!
Remy:(louder) Ice cream!
CeeGee:(faces the window) I can’t turn the TV down, it seems to be stuck. But that doesn’t matter, baby. What matters is I need you! (pauses) What do you mean, “What am I really wearing?” I’m wearing my boots, just for you! (pauses) Oh, baby, don’t hang up! No, no, no, don’t! … (looks at phone. Sighs. Turns to Remy) Ice cream? Seriously?
Used to be that I’d have hotel reservations all the time. For a while, my ex was taking over my house when he looked after the kids and I’d go to a hotel for the weekend. Which was lovely for me, but not so lovely on my wallet. Since I kinda ran out of money (who knew that was coming?), I’m lucky to have reservations to see a movie. That’s what I wanted to talk about though. Movie tickets. Or tickets to anything for that matter.
And the weirdness that is the English language.
Why do we have reservations for a restaurant but we don’t call them reservations to a movie or an event? Because that’s really what a ticket does. It reserves a spot in the place you’re going.
Therefore, I want tickets to a restaurant and a reservation for a movie. So there.
The next thing I have reservations for is a Glorious Sons concert at the end of July. On June 26th, the Sons–a Kingston, Ontario band–are opening for the Rolling Stones in France. That’s a HUGE DEAL! I predict that for Kingston bands, they’re going to be the next Tragically Hip.
And I have no reservations about saying that.
The last time I had a ticket to stay at a hotel was in October 2016. I’m seriously due for a vacation. With a reservation for a seat on a plane, preferably.
Simon sits at the window. Verne takes the seat beside him, grocery bag in hand.
Verne: (to bag, soothingly) That’s a nice chicken. (looks sideways at Simon and turns back to bag) I’m going to take you home and eat you all up. (looks sideways at Simon)
Simon smiles.
Verne:(to Simon) What? Haven’t you ever seen anyone talk to their food?
Simon: No, it’s okay! I talk to my food all the time.
Verne: Do you like the wings too?
Simon:(shakes head) I’m more of a leg man, myself. Maybe the occasional finger.
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