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Rated: E · Short Story · Comedy · #1351345
Why a man needs a place of solitude
Peace of Mind

Some times a man needs a place to retreat to in times of attack from stress related issues. A fortress of solitude for regeneration. You men know what I'm talking about, the in-laws show up unannounced. The grandkids though we love them with all our heart and souls, parents get amnesia and forget where they left them, the wife decides it's clean up week and it's not even April.
I could go on for days with reasons to use such a place. Clark Kent had one and he was a Superman. Surely an ordinary guy could find use for such a place.

So I set out to find my fortress of solitude. It had to be a place close to home in case I had to change into my alter ego and save someone in the family. So I thought long and hard, I pondered over it for months and than one day during my morning sacrament it hit me, the upstairs bathroom! It was perfect, and I wasn't being selfish or unreasonable, there was another bathroom downstairs, it was a full service bathroom, it was perfect for them. I was doing them a great favor. They wouldn't have to tackle all those stairs, it was close, it was surely larger, and the whole family could fit in there at one time if they had to.

Yes I was doing them a favor no one had to think or make a decision as to which one to use. Of course there were some minor drawbacks, like when uncle frank was over and had eaten a bowl of beans or some chili dogs or, all hell it was pretty much the same foul disgusting odor no matter what he ate. The aroma would move in for several days. Following you are like it were your shadow.  Uncle Frank would make remarks like that was an abomination, he was the Michael Angelo of Foul,it was truly an evil entity.

And Aunt Martha removing her teeth every time she washed her hands, which was quite often, and leaving them their on the sink looking at you as if they were ready to chomp down on you at any moment. I don't know why she felt it necessary to remove them; I can only assume she was just as tired of them going all the time as we were.  And took them out to rest her jaws.

But those were minor issues that could be worked out by them, right? Anyway by some uncanny turn of event's and circumstances, the opportunity to make my FOS a reality was bestowed on me.

I put my plan into motion; I to had some sacrifices and minor adjustments to make, I won't bore you with the details. It's a man's thing. Eventually a holiday came, that would be the ultimate test for my Fortress of Solitude; it was the mother of all reasons to retreat to my haven, the dreaded Family Reunion.  I truly had forgotten it was my year to host this grand event.

I cooked, and served everyone, well not by myself, Irene must have done something, she was constantly washing dishes taking plates of food to people, pouring wine, feeding the children and playing games with them, well I guess you get the picture.  But I did more than my share of smiling and listening to Great Great Great Uncle Bills World War One Stories, you know that was the Big One. The war to end all wars. According to my uncle it would have been, had this idiot one star General allowed him to leave his post as the big gun operator and go to the rear which was only a two day ride by jeep and use the latrine.

Instead uncle bill had to make a choice and sneak away, leaving his howitzer to find a nice hole in the ground. He stated it was a matter of privacy, you can understand that. Right? Well it had to due, of course that was around the time the enemy ships sailed through the narrow canal, thus causing the them to be re-supplied with food and munitions for the next 3 years, well that's another story.

Where was I? Oh now I remember, the fortress. I guess by now you can see why this fortress was necessary. So I faked a tummy ache and excused myself after informing the family that I would be right back, but my wife Irene was no rookie, there would be no pulling of the wool over her eyes.

She knew I was up to something. After 32 years of marriage they kind of get to know your habits.  So after a half-hour, which was generous I must say, she came a knocking. I grunted a few times for effect, but refused to open the door. I was hoping she would go away. Well as you can imagine that didn't happen. After all it was my side of the family gathered, reeking havoc on our home and her every last nerve.

She cursed, threatened and called me everything but a child of GOD. But I stood fast. You guys would have been proud of me. I refused to open the door, and than I heard something that sent chills down my spine. She yelled for my Uncle Sidney Allen Marshall, Grand Master Locksmith to come upstairs and to Bring His Bag. He loved the sound of that phrase. I lost my breath for a minute; I couldn't think; the hair on the back of my neck stood straight up.

He was 80 years old and still working. He had a 26 year old girlfriend and getting around better than me. He drove that dam locksmith truck every where he went. He even came to my cousin Jim's funeral in it. I guess he thought someone at the cemetery might want to get out.

For the next three hours I heard him working on the door, the whole family must have been out there trying to give him tips. I even heard someone mention the fire department once or twice. I knew he wouldn't call them, hell they called him for the special jobs.  If that door opened I would have been caught in a very compromising position. At last I heard his 26-year-old girlfriend say, come on poppy, it's OK; a 99.9 % success rate was still pretty good. I could here him walking away from the door mumbling and rambling.

As I slipped back down into the swirling warm waters of my aqua-stereo phonic equipped 48 jet Jacuzzi, I slowly sipped on an ice cold mason jar of Vintage 1996 Rose Dom Perignon, which I had conveniently removed from the small but efficient refrigerator I had secretly installed in the towel closet. You know where all of that useless aromatherapy oils, candles, soaps, and lady products use to live.

It was a perfect fit, concealed by all those towels and thing you set out for guest, which never actually gets put out. I couldn't help but smile as I admired the Mahogany camouflaged reinforced titanium steel door and frame with the galvanized steel X362 lock I had installed just a few weeks earlier by one of those annoying door to door salesmen who pop up at your door with useless products for sale. You know the guy's the wife always seems to let the dog out in the yard when she sees them coming. (Smile) I do believe she was out shopping for aromatherapy oils that day.

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