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Rated: E · Short Story · Comedy · #1182580
A jounalist encounters a woman worth writing about.
The only thing worse than the plot line for the ‘hit’ new play, She Married the Failure, is the acting. There was absolutely no trace of any talent up on the stage, I type as I review the newest flop of a play. The main actress and actor bombed so badly, I don’t believe they will ever have another chance to show their stuff on anything other than used car dealership commercials. If we ever allow these two no-talent actors up on the stage again, it will be a severe disgrace to everything we call theater. There is a bright side to all this, though, the makeup and costumes were so well done that I doubt anyone will be able to recognize these actors without it. So they just might be able to walk down the streets without people throwing rotten vegetables at them. I finish and send it to the presses, another career down the drain. I just love my job. I sit around and watch plays all day, and then I act the part of God. Do I send these poor actors to their grave or to the big time?
It’s my night off tonight, nothing to do, but relax. Then tomorrow night it’s another dull work party to attend, the only part of my job that I deem pointless.

***
I look at myself in the mirror. I am wearing tan slacks with a crisp, white, button -up dress shirt. Taking some pomade, I rub my palms together, supposedly ‘activating’ the product. How in the heck does rubbing the junk between my hands ‘activate’ the gel? I shake my head as I run my pomade-sticky fingers through my jet-black hair. Combing it perfectly into place, I wash my hands, and walk to my closet pulling out a plain, dark green tie.
I have that work party to attend tonight. You’d think that seeing these people every day of my life would be enough! Obviously not though, because they seem to plan a mandatory attendance after work party every three days! Sure there is enough free food and alcohol to sustain me for weeks, but having to walk around and socialize with people I don’t even like for three straight hours is enough for me to go hungry. If there was a possibility, I could get out of it.
Nothing interesting ever happens at these parties. We all arrive as model, upstanding, hardworking citizens with everything perfectly in place. The men wear nice pants and a sports jacket and the ladies are in simple, but elegant black dresses. We then proceed to make monotonous, polite chit chat to everyone we come in contact with, we all laugh at all the appropriate times, and for the most part become bored out of our wits!
I rub my jaw in frustration. It feels rough. For a moment I’m confused, didn’t I just shave? Oh yeah, that was this morning! I glance at my simple, leather-banded watch… it is eight o’ clock now. I don’t have time to shave. Ha-ha…this can be my silent, but very effective rebellion against these dull, stiff collars. I’ll waltz in with the manicured outfit, and hair, but then BAM people will be secretly envious of my eight o’ clock shadow.
I grab my cell phone from my desk and push a button.
“Lee, pull the car around please. I’m ready to go,” I request into the phone.
“Yes, sir,” is the automatic answer.
I grab my new tan sports coat, give one last somber look around my comfortable home, and head out the door.

***
Light, airy music greets me as I walk into the room where the party is being held. It is a beautiful ballroom, with vaulted ceilings and a crystal chandelier.
A waiter hands me a glass full of champagne as way of greeting. Thus starts my evening of torture. I tip my head back downing my only freedom.
“Keep these coming, buddy,” I say in a joking fashion, but give him a look that signifies complete seriousness.
He nods and I grab another glass off his tray as he walks away.
“Cash!” a voice yells out. I spin around towards the voice. “How’s everything going down at the paper?”
“Oh…um…well, it’s going great. Nothing really new to report. I did just finish reviewing that new play out…,” I babble, stalling for time. Who in the heck is this guy? He knows me by name. We must have met on multiple occasions. Dang it. Oh he’s saying something. I better listen and think of a good follow-up question. God, I hate these parties.
“…with your parents? Everyone in good health, I presume,” he asks with a curious smile.
He knows my parents? He must be a family friend. Oh better say something quick, he is looking at me expectantly.
“They are great, everyone is in good health,” I steal a look at his hand. Yep, there is a wedding band. Hopefully his wife isn’t dead or anything. “And how’s the wife?”
His face breaks into a smile. BINGO. Faked another greeting. I’m getting good at this.
“She is doing great thanks. We actually are thinking of renting…,” he chatters on for a couple of more minutes, then shakes my hand warmly, and takes his leave.
Alone again I sip my champagne as I scan the room full of strangers. Nothing novel to report, just all the usual people, doing the usual thing…wait a second. I stop in myself in mid-scan. Whoa, look at that girl!
I stare at her, completely thrown off guard. She is wearing a stunning red sequin dress, beautiful, but totally inappropriate for this party. Her raven black hair is pulled back into a loose pony tail and she is standing all alone in the middle of the room. She is gorgeous!
As I watch her, I begin to chuckle to myself. Did she just do what I think she did? Yeah, I think she did. She just spit a salmon puff out of her mouth and into her hand and then chucked it over her shoulder! Oh my goodness, that’s hilarious. I don’t think she thought anyone was watching her. I wonder if she works at the paper? I’ve never seen her before. I think I’ll go talk to her.
I grab a napkin off of one of the waiter’s trays and walk over to where the girl is standing. I stoop down and pick up the salmon puff.
“Excuse me, miss, but I think you dropped this,” I say to her with a slight smile, as I present the puff to her.
“No. I didn’t,” she replies politely.
“What?” I ask incredulously. She is lying right to my face.
“I-didn’t-drop-it,” she says slowly, as if I am a child.
“Oh, yes, you did,” I shoot back. “ I just watched you drop it over your shoulder not two seconds ago.”
She leans in towards me and casts her eyes around suspiciously. I catch a whiff of her perfume; it smells strange, almost like waffles. “I didn’t drop it,” she whispers close to my ear. “I threw it. It was disgusting, and I didn’t want to choke it down, so I threw it.”
I stare at her gobsmacked as she throws her head back and starts to laugh loudly. So loudly that people clear across the room turn from their conversations and look over at us.
“You threw it?” I ask not quite believing my own ears. “You didn’t like it so instead of finding a trash can, or simply choking it down, you threw it on the floor?”
“Yep!” she says, looking from me, to the soggy napkin and salmon puff in my open hand and back to me again.
“Do you know how much just one of those puffs cost?” I ask gesturing to the salmon puff.
“No. Do you? And if you say ‘yes’ I’m going to wonder about you,” she jokes.
“Yeah, I’d wonder too,” I joke back, even though I think we both know, I know.
She studies me carefully as we fall into silence.
“My name is Madison,” she says as she thrusts out her hand to me.
I take it, “Nice to meet you Madison. I’m Cash.”
She gives me a breathtaking smile as we shake hands. God, she’s beautiful. She looks a tad bit familiar. I wonder if I have ever met her before? Probably not, I think I would remember someone as extraordinary as her.
I look down at our hands; hers are a milky white, against my naturally tan skin. Gently I begin to pull my hand away, she clutches it tighter. Chuckling, I pull it harder, but her grip just continues to tighten.
I look up at her. Her eyes are tightly closed and her head is tipped back.
“Nice-to-meet-you-Madison,” I repeat as I try to slyly pull my hand from hers. She’s stronger than you’d think.
“Stop moving, Cash,” she says in a serious voice. “You and I, we have a connection. Can’t you feel it?”
First the salmon puff and now this. She may be gorgeous, but there is definitely something weird about her.
“Yeah…uh…a connection,” I say rolling my eyes.
“Wait!” she practically yells.
“God, do you have to yell? Speak softly please.” I whisper still trying subtly to get my hand free. We’re starting to cause a scene.
“What is your last name?” she asks, completely ignoring my request to quiet down.
“Uh…Weston…Now please could you let…”
She interrupts me. Her eyes fly open and she grasps my hand harder than ever, “I knew it! That’s our connection! You’re a Weston! I am a Howen!”
I blink at her completely confused.
She rolls her eyes. “We both share the letter ‘W’! ‘W’…. as in ‘wedding’, and ‘wife!’ I knew you were my soul mate from the moment I laid eyes upon you!”
As she says this, I tear my hand free. Just a knee-jerk reaction I guess. “Uh…‘W’, huh? Well, we also share the letter ‘N’ don’t we? And the letter ‘E’?”
I slowly begin to back away. Note to self: see an attractive woman throwing a salmon puff on the floor assume she’s insane.
Madison rolls her eyes again and steps closer towards me. “Oh, pookie, ‘E’ and ‘N’ don’t mean anything romantic,” she coos.
I back up. Oh good Lord, someone help me.
Suddenly she grabs my arm and starts laughing so hard tears stream down her face. What the heck is wrong with this woman?
“You guys are so easy,” she chokes out amidst her laughter.
“What are you talking about?” I practically yell. I am so confused.
“I was just joking with you. Good gracious, you should have seen your face when I mentioned the word ‘wedding’, you about keeled over,” she sputters.
Joking. She was just joking. She isn’t a psychopath. Oh thank goodness. I start laughing out of sheer relief. Now that I think about it, it was sort of funny. This girl has a great personality. She definitely knows how to tease. I think I’m starting to really like her.
“Thank goodness you were just joking. You were starting to frighten me,” I reply as I laugh with her.
She stops laughing and looks at me gravely.
“I frightened you? Really? I am so sorry! I was just joking, seriously. I don’t think we should get married because of our last names,” she says earnestly.
“No it’s fine. You were just acting strangely. I thought maybe you were a nut case or something,” I say as I start to laugh again.
She doesn’t join in. She just stares at me until I stop laughing.
“God, I said it was a joke! There is no need to call me names or anything,” she replies as tears begin to fill her eyes. She turns around and storms away.
I stand there shell shocked, but thankfully my senses catch up with me. This woman is great and I just hurt her feelings. I walk briskly after her.
“Oh…no, Madison… please,” I say trying to catch up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. It’s just you were acting a little strange.”
“Sure you didn’t,” she practically sobs. “You wanted to hurt me because I embarrassed you. Well, not me. Leave me alone.”
“No Madison. I am really sorry. Your right, I was out of line there. Please forgive me.
She stops in her tracks and I about run into her. She turns to look at me and searches my face. Tears are running rapidly down her cheeks. I start looking for a napkin. There is one under this salmon puff. I pop the puff into my mouth and hand Madison the napkin.
Her eyes get as big as ping-pong balls as I hand her the napkin and chew the salmon puff. She just stares at me. She doesn’t use the napkin. What’s wrong now? This puff tastes a little strange.
“Madison, I’m really sorry. Please stop crying. Don’t be mad,” I say as I try to swallow the puff.
“No, I’m not mad. How could I be? You just ate my puff,” she gasps in awe. Her expression has turned to one of complete love. “I am a part of you now! You just ate some of me. We are now one!”
“Your puff? We are one? Are you joking with me again? Exactly what are you talking...,” I trail off as the truth suddenly hits me. I just ate the salmon puff. It was in Madison’s mouth, and then on the floor. Oh, gross. I grab a glass of champagne off of a waiter’s tray and gulp it down and then I stuff a couple more salmon puffs in my mouth, thinking that maybe it would help. I begin to cough and sputter frantically. Bits of salmon fly from my mouth and spray the room.
“Are you alright sweetie?” Madison asks as she pounds on my back aimlessly. She has a huge grin on her face, her eyes are flashing. She looks possessed. Someone get her away from me! She is a crazy! I knew it. I try to yell for her to leave me alone, but I can’t speak. I try to cough, but I can’t. Something is lodged in my throat.
People are beginning to gather. I hear them telling Madison to give me the Heimlich. I gesture recklessly, trying to tell them I’m fine. I don’t want her touching me. I open my mouth to speak again, but I can barely breathe. Suddenly, Madison bursts into tears.
“Oh, someone, please help! Someone save my fiancé,” she wails. She has a fiancé? Who is she talking about? I’m the one choking!
“Your fiancé? We didn’t know Cash was engaged,” someone in crowd shouts.
“Oh it’s quite new,” Madison replies excitedly, her tears suddenly vanishing. Her stupid grin is back. She cocks her head to one side and looks me straight in the eyes, “Isn’t it sweetie?”
What is she talking about? Me, engaged? To whom? Surely, she isn’t talking about her and I being engaged. Thoughts swirl about my head. Nothing is making sense. I hear Madison begin to laugh her wild laugh. She starts towards me.
“I’ll save you, my little pumpkin,” she giggles. Her eyes darken as if by evil itself.
I back away from her. I want to be saved, but not by her.
My eyes become veiled. I can’t see anything. I am about to pass out. That’s it I’m going to die. A salmon puff is going to be the death of me. If I survive, I promise to never eat another salmon puff in my life. Darkness envelops me.

***

Sight is slowly returning. Someone’s strong arms are behind me and they are trying to squeeze my ribs together to thrust out the salmon puff. Oh thank goodness.
Thrust. Slowly shapes are forming in front of my eyes.
Thrust. Everyone is looking extremely concerned.
Thrust. What’s that smell. I think I’ve smelled it before.
Thrust. Oh no. It’s waffles. This has to be a nightmare.
Thrust. The salmon puff comes flying out of my mouth. The onlookers break into applause. I am carelessly dropped to the floor as Madison runs after the puff. What is she going to do with it? She grabs it just as it hits the floor and comes running back towards me. Desperately, I try to crawl away, but I am too weak to move more than a few inches. I collapse into a heap on the floor. Madison’s crazed face appears above mine.
“Look, my precious poo-poo,” she waves the wet, deformed puff before my eyes. “This is what was in you throat. It was a bad little puff! BAD puff! Do you think we could have salmon puffs at our wedding? Oh, that will be splendid.”
Someone is pulling me to my feet. People are swarming around Madison and I, congratulating us. This is insane.
“Oh thanks, of course you all will be invited. What? Oh, I think we’ll be getting married in June, or maybe May?” Madison is chatting happily away. Telling everyone what a great couple we are. She slowly slips her hand around my waist and digs her nails painfully into my side.
“Stop!” I scream at the top of my lungs. I cringe as I push Madison away from me.
The room becomes deathly quiet.
“Madison and I are not engaged. I don’t even know this woman. I just met her not even an hour ago,” I explain trying to keep my temper under control.
A collective gasp goes around the room.
“Don’t know me? Don’t know me? We’ve known each other practically forever! You and I are life-mates! And here you are telling everyone that you don’t know me! After all I have done for you! Heck, I just saved your life!” Madison screams in fury. She flies at me her fingernails digging into my face. She’s kicking and hitting me everywhere. She is trying to stuff something wet and mushy into my mouth. It’s the salmon puff.
Suddenly she is gone. She is being hauled away by security. I watch as they drag her across the floor. Her face full of hate, suddenly transforms into a loving grin.
“Okay, my honey bear, I’ll call you later! I really love the idea of a May wedding. There is just something very serene about it. Peaceful flowers…,” her voice trails away as she is pulled out of the room.
The crowd surrounding me erupts into hundreds of different conversations about me. I don’t think I’ll ever live this one down. They’ll be talking about Cash and the crazy salmon puff lady for weeks to come!
I grab a napkin off a passing waiter’s tray and wipe the smooshed salmon puff off of my face. I have never met a woman as crazy as that one. I’m actually kind of scared. Someone should probably see me home, just in case. I mean, she could be a stalker or something!
A waiter walks up to me.
“The woman that just left wanted me to give you this, sir,” he says, handing me a note. He then walks away.
I stare at it in horror. Should I open it? What more could she possibly have to say to me? I am so freaked out. Maybe I should hire a bodyguard.
My hands start shaking as I slowly open it:
A bad actress? I don’t think so. I had you along with everyone else pretty convinced. Next time I bet you’ll think twice before you write a bad review about me!
-From your precious pookie
P.S. You were right. There weren’t any rotten vegetables, but there sure were a lot of salmon puffs!
© Copyright 2006 Jillian Whitney (pinkstang at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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