Micro Memoirs

January 3, 2012 at 1:41 am (Love) (, , , , , , , )

Now that it is the New Year, let’s get a head start on V.D., shall we?

At certain times and under particular conditions it is helpful, if not incumbent upon ourselves, to take such exercises as are necessary for the release of stress and to act as a laxative for the mind and consciousness, purging away those emotional indigestibles so contrary to peace of mind … not to mention bodily function.

In light of this, I thought it might be fun to take a look at one such ‘session’ I undertook in the guise of an alter-ego of some history and nostalgia in my own frame of reference.

Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you, Billy Ray Lester:

“In his younger days he had adopted the personae of such characters as Billy Ray Lester, complete in a wife beater, tight jeans, and cowboy boots … He stretched, flexing his bare arms in a sleeveless t-shirt which had a 7-Up slogan on the front: ‘Never Had It, Never will,’ he was particularly fit back then, “You wanna get outta here? Kinda slow tonight.”

“You a perv or something?” I edged away.

“No, I’m Billy Ray.” He stuck out his hand, “Billy Ray Lester.”””

That outtake was courtesy of my apprentice’s ‘maiden tale’ about me entitled ‘The Mystery Shopper’. Well, that is how he recalls our initial contact, though I daresay he was pretty much right on the money (I’m a tad embarrassed to admit).

Now then, these micro memoirs (also known as Six-Word Memoirs), deal with subject matter in the category of relationships, and in particular under the sub-heading of ‘pain’, or if you prefer more specifically: breakups.

Not to belabour, so I will give you one of mine that you may experience some of the anguish I was trying to work through at a critical point in my life:

“Remember me from the carpet burns…”

‘What was the cause?’ You may be moved to query. Well, I’ll leave it again to my trusty apprentice to spell it out:

“A woman strolled over, hair piled high above plucked eyebrows, heavy mascara, and ruby red lipstick. She was nearer Joe’s age than my own, if appearances didn’t deceive. Dressed in a black leather miniskirt, low cut blouse exposing abundant cleavage, stiletto heels, she appeared to me a streetwalker. Joe was painfully unprepared for this. But it was too late for an evasive course of action.”

And that is pretty much how it went down. And he was correct, it was over before it started, only I didn’t know it. In such circumstances, the only course of action left after the wheels come completely off your little red wagon (and with hot to trot operatives like the one just described, they most assuredly will), is to get yourself on the road to recovery ASAP!

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