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Rated: E · Short Story · Contest Entry · #2263122
Movie night with Maggie and Tom.
Paint Your Wagon
WC 206


I do not like old movies, except for Dirty Harry. That one I can watch over and over. My wife loves those cheesy musicals…

Gag me.


So, of course, we watch musicals on Friday nights. She makes popcorn while I open the wine, then we snuggle. My wife watches the movie she has selected, and I fall asleep.

“So, what's on the agenda for tonight, Maggie?” I ask.

“Well, we have three movies to choose from.”

Three? Holy Popcorn.

“And, they are?”

Paint Your Wagon. Clint Eastwood sings.”

Clint Eastwood is my hero. I cannot imagine him singing, however.

“And, next, dear?”

Bell, Book, and Candle.”

No, no, no! Heck no!

“And?”

“And Glass Menagerie. It has music, but it's not a musical,” Maggie says with that, "I would not choose this one out of the three" voice.

“So which one, Tom?”

“I played Jim O'Connor in a Community Theatre production of Glass Menagerie years ago. That could be fun.”

“Who?”

“Her suitor.”

“Whose suitor?”

“The girl in the play. Amanda Wingfield?”

“You did? That’s nice.”

We sit in silence for a minute or two.

“I’ m leaning toward Bell, Book, and Candle!” she says, finally.

No, no, no! One million times no!. I’d rather eat liver.

“Oh honey, I really want to hear Clint Eastwood sing,” I blurt.

“Okay. Alright. Paint Your Wagon it is.”

So, we watched Paint Your Wagon, ate popcorn, and drank Cabernet. FYI: In my humble opinion, Clint Eastwood cannot sing his way out of a bag.

So now, when I watch Dirty Harry, it will not be the same.

Oh, Clint, how could you?
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