“It’s frigging miraculous,” she said to no one in particular as she spied and then finally recovered the tiny silver backing of her left faux diamond stud earring from under the refrigerator using a straightened wire hanger with a piece of well-chewed gum stuck to its end.
She stuck it back on its post before dusting off the lint that had stuck to the knees of her velour pantsuit during her search.
And with that, she returned to Judge Judy reruns with a renewed sense of hope for the world.
“If it’s not one thing, it is another!” she muttered under her breath to no one in particular, as she walked away after attempting to relate to the newly voted in President of the Women’s League, whose ensuing torrent of complaints just about set off one of her famous migraines.
Fortunately, she had felt it coming on and so had smiled the polite smile she was known for and excused herself, citing a sudden powerful need to powder her nose.
She passed by the door to the Ladies, making a beeline for the tray of drinks that was just a few feet ahead, ever-grateful for her social survival instincts: that one wouldn’t be in office long, the thought to herself, and with that, she smiled a very self-satisfied smile and took a first, very long, sip of mint julep.
“Fuck bliss!” she said to no one in particular as she stood up from the rather bedraggled towel she used as a makeshift meditation mat, turned on her 70’s rock Spotify playlist with the volume set up super loud, and poured herself a cup of the high octane coffee that had been gurgling and spitting as it brewed during her latest attempt at discovering her true dharma.
Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word Prompt: bliss
“Mercy me!” she exclaimed to no one in particular as she almost dropped the full tray of assorted cookies she had just painstakingly arranged and was about to take out to serve to members of the Ladies of the Lake Tea Group.
Looking down to see what had created the slip that had almost been her undoing, she eyed a small pool of what appeared to be milk on the linoleum floor – evidence of what could surely be deemed criminal carelessness, as just moments before, against her better judgement, she had succumbed to pressure from Myrna to allow her to serve the coffee, a mistake that reinforced her privately held poor opinion of Myrna’s character.
She took it upon herself to rearrange the cookies and the more arduous task of rearranging her expression from one of annoyance to one of the pleasant politeness she was known for, and with an almost imperceptible sigh, she headed out to return to the girls.
With the tiniest of wry little smiles, she thought to herself, “I have a rather droll sense of humor, don’t I?”
Anyone who might have been looking her way would have thought to themselves, “Now that is an intriguing woman,” but sadly, no one was looking her way at just that moment.
And just like that, her face returned to its usual arrangement, a bespoke blend of earnest effort and fatigue, as she went to top off table eleven’s coffee cups.
“The only exceptional thing about you is that you are throughly unexceptional!” And with that, and the throaty laugh that accompanied it, Alexandra Haversmith made it clear that a second date was not a possibility.
She returned her full attention to the remainder of the Manhattan that she had been drinking as if it was life’s blood itself, and glanced about to be sure that she had been overheard by all surrounding parties.
One’s reputation, after all, was all.
“Way to go, Genius!” he said to no one in particular as he realized that the gas he’d been pumping was spurting out onto his hand and dribbling down his pant’s leg.
He released the handle and hurriedly put it back in its cradle, and then shook his hand and leg simultaneously while shaking his head in reprimand for having caught himself daydreaming again.
“Well, that’s what you get Old Boy,” he said with a gentler tone, again to no one in particular. As was often the case in such situations, he was abrasive with himself at first, turning compassionate after a bit, as he knew that he’d always been a daydreamer and probably always would be a daydreamer.
No sense berating a skunk for its stripe, he thought, pleased that he’d found such a fitting analogy. “Let’s get a move on then,” he said with a bit of pep. And as he pulled away from the station, a tune found his lips and he started to whistle.
Beyond the Skinny Branches 