Getting it

More from Mike abt the book signing @ Lilliput's:

April,

Formerly little sis. I have found that after years of living in Milborough, there are certain things you can expect as a matter of course. First is that even though dad has been working as a dentist in this town for almost 30 years now, many people still walk around with huge gaps between their teeth. You would think they would seek out dad and get the type of quality dental care we got, where our teeth only show from our mouths on special occasions. Second is that there are quite a few women in Milborough with hairstyles so bad, one can only hope that they are wearing a wig. Third is that married men in Milborough don’t get any, and their wives are completely humourless about anything which might indicate they are going to get any.

Case in point. I was at my book-signing at Lilliput’s, sitting at my signing table. Then, as things often happen in Milborough, everything went dark for no reason; but I could see the silhouette of someone approaching the table. She said, “Would you sign this for my husband? His name is Bill.” She leaned way over the table, and even in the dark I could tell she was a particularly porcine person. I said “Certainly,” all the while hoping she was going to hand me a book and not suggest I sign the body part which was swaying over the table. Fortunately she did hand over the book.

Then the lights popped back up, but I was prepared for it, by using my usual trick of temporarily removing my eyes. When my eyes returned, I saw a no-necked, gap-toothed, large-nosed, glasses-wearing woman. I sincerely hoped she was wearing a wig, because her hairline went almost as far back as Gordon Mayes’. I said to her, “Is he getting it for Christmas?” I presume you are old enough to catch my little double-entendre; but this lady did not, at least not initially. She replied, “No. He’s getting it tonight.” This, of course, kept me from using my favourite method of signing books given at Christmas to husbands. “For…[name]…Merry Christmas. Here’s hoping your wife is wearing a Santa hat when you’re getting it during the holiday season.”

So I said, “OK!” to her request and wrote an alternative, “For…Bill…Who’s getting it…tonight.” I wrote it with my usual air of sophistication, including my raised pinky finger. Then I handed it to her with my usual Patterson smirk which comes whenever I have written a great pun. But as I said before, Milborough wives are notoriously humourless when it comes to this subject, and she just gave me an eyeless, mouthless stare; which said to me, “You should be glad I do not have any eyes or a mouth, or you would die instantly from the withering glare I would be giving you.” Honestly I was fairly happy that she had managed to remove those gapped teeth from view, due to her anger. Most times I don’t like the look of an angry woman; but when there are gapped teeth involved, I will make an exception.

As had happened a few times during the course of the evening, when I was signing books, the customer was less than satisfied with my little display of humour. I was forced to call mom’s (former) worker, Beatrix Potter, I mean Beatrice Alfalfa. Bea had long sense gotten tired of me saying “A, B, C?” to her, even after I explained it meant, “Hey, Bea! See?” So, I just said, “Uh…Bea? Could I get a fresh copy, please?

A few minutes later I was signing, “For…Bill...As Harvey Rood loved Sheilagh Shaugnessey, may you love your wife, who gave you this book. Michael Patterson.” Then I pointed her over to my dad and said, “You really need to go and talk to my father. You have such a lovely smile, and my dad really loves smiles like yours.” She did, but dad was too horrified to give her his card. As I said, formerly little sis, in Milborough, there are certain things you can expect as a matter of course.

Love,
Michael Patterson

Mike, I saw that woman U R talking abt reminded me of C'ing the pix from Shawna-Marie's wedding, and I cdn't help wondering when Anthony's employee Julia had gotten married and started wearing glasses. But then I realized this chick is older and wondered if she cd B Julia's auntie.

Jeremy, I M not mad @ U. I know that sumtymez when U stuff, thingz come out wrong and then when U tryta fix what U just sed, thingz come out wronger and wronger.

Apes