Serves Me Right

A couple of weeks ago I was driving my senior citizens in our big fifteen-passenger bus (we have upgraded from van to bus, and it’s a hoss) to dinner, and when I stopped at a red light I got out my lipstick.

“You never know when you are going to meet the love of your life,” I said as I caked it on. Pink is a good color for me.

I didn’t think another thing about it because we were headed to Tenn16 over in East Nashville which everyone knows if full of hipsters wearing skinny jeans, and everyone knows I am not going to find myself in a relationship with a man who wears skinny jeans. Ever.  (God, hear me on this.)  During dinner I noticed that Jan, me in thirty years, was talking to a man at the bar.  Since I like to make new friends in bars and restaurants my own self, I thought nothing of that either.

Later, after food was consumed and plates were cleared, Jan got out her lipstick and caked it on. Mauve is a good color for her.  She motioned for me to do the same and once that chore was accomplished, she invited me down to her end of the table.

“Jimmie,” she said, “I have someone I want you to meet. That man behind me at the bar?  His name is Jerry.  I went to high school with him and while I’m furious with him for aging better than me, I want you to meet him.  Here’s what I think I’m going to say:  This is Jimmie. She’s looking for a hookup.  Are you interested in going out with her?”

Y’all. Y’all!  Jerry is 70 years old.* Open up that floor and swallow me whole.  I’ve got to keep my mouth shut around Jan.

In other related-but-not-really news, I recently lost my driver’s license in Key West. This story would be far more exciting if I were able to tell you that I lost it in the bar or on the beach, but alas, I believe I lost it in the grocery store buying something boring like cheese. Anyway, I had to go through TSA twice with no ID of any kind and unless you count a pat down so thorough I felt like I needed a cigarette after, it was not a pleasant experience.  Getting a new license was not a pleasant experience either but I was rewarded with a new license photo that makes me look like a melted piece of cheese (apropos, no?).  Also, it looks like every chin I ever had in my life showed up for that photo.  I suppose that is what I get for losing my license, although I feel good about replacing it so soon because I can speed again.  Was terrified to do that without one.

In final related news (not really), in our last blogging episode I threw my dear sister, Martie, under the bus. In retaliation, she threw me under the bus and in a display of her pipes and creativity, she wrote me a song.

Please enjoy her non-warbling-nor-screeching tune written rightfully at my expense. For the record, I feel about Willie Nelson much like I do about Patsy Cline.

In Which Martie Throws Me Under The Bus; Or, A Song By Martie

Ain’t we great? That is some sisterly love right there.

*I feel I should defend myself here – while I’m not opposed to an older man, I think maybe five years is my limit. Seven, tops. (God, hear me on this.) I’d like for our wrinkling pattern to be roughly the same.

7 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Felix
    Sep 08, 2016 @ 18:15:04

    I absolutely LOVE the modified version of Adele’s song for you Jimmie! WAY TO GO MARTIE!!!! Your sister LOVES YOU VERY MUCH to have done that. I hope you CRIED! and Laughed Out Loud!


  2. Martie
    Sep 08, 2016 @ 18:22:52

    It’s a little warbly….


  3. Julie
    Sep 09, 2016 @ 07:39:19

    Niiiice job, Martie. You both cracked me up.


  4. celdaran
    Sep 15, 2016 @ 08:49:46

    Out of curiosity, what does happen when you have to fly and you don’t have an ID? I’ve always wondered (and lived in fear of) that.


    • Love, Jimmie
      Sep 16, 2016 @ 12:50:47

      Well, if you are in Key West where they are snooty, you have to provide the supervisor every single piece of plastic with your name on it for her to finally tell you that your insurance card will work. Then they will give a more thorough pat down and take your bag through the x-ray machine three times and confiscate your candle. Because it could be liquid one day. Then they will give you the evil eye until you step onto the plane while still barking at you about how you could have gotten your candle back home with you (ship from the gift shop, check your bag and then come back through the pat down and x-ray three times, or throw it away – which I had already done). If you are in Fort Lauderdale, they will accept your insurance card, take you to a more private area and give you a VERY thorough pat down and check your bag for some kind of residue. But they are friendly about it. It just takes a little longer. I still don’t recommend either scenario. Going anywhere good?


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: