Chapter Thirty-Nine: Ma’am protests too much…

Blanche informs me that I am to pick up Xi.  I am wondering how to pronounce this?  I pull up to find Xi and four other people.  None of them speak English.  They have flags and signs which we put in the trunk.  I cannot read the signs as they are all in Chinese symbols.
As I drive, I attempt to converse with my non-English speaking passengers.

There is a lot of pantomiming on my part and laughing.  We arrive to a crowd of people, who are also carrying banners and flags.  I help my passengers get their signs and flags out of my trunk.  I wind up carrying one of the flags and begin to walk with the group to see what is going on.  Before I know it, I am walking in a protest.  News crews are there filming, and as I pass them with my flag I smile broadly and wave into the camera.

All of a sudden, a barrage of police officers descend upon the group.  People start shouting out and I have no idea what they are saying. The crowd runs and I follow like I am in the running of the bulls in Spain.  I have no idea what is going on, but I know it’s not good.  I drop my flag and dart into an alleyway.  An hour later I find my car and peel away from the scene.

I arrive home to see Confused husband watching tv.  I see myself on the news and admire my outfit!  The newscaster says:  “Police are interested in speaking with this unknown middle-aged woman who they think was the protesters ring leader.”  The video is paused on my face.  I also notice I need a lip wax, and am horrified at how much upper lip hair I have!  I rub my fingers over my five o clock shadow and cringe.  Plus, how dare they refer to me as a middle-aged woman!

Confused husband looks over at me and says, “My, you were busy today.”   Before I can respond, the door bell rings and there stands Detective Relish…

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Don’t write Ma’am on my cup!

I enjoy those marvelous creations in the highbrow coffee places.  They have fancy names like, Dream mocha sensation, Frothy lavender with a twist of citrus, you name it they have them!  I enjoy finding new ones in between picking up passengers and sampling their concoctions.

I also enjoy having them write exotic names on my cup!  One day I may be a Desiree, the next Nova.  There are days when I am merely Jane or Kate.  I may pull out my British accent and be Pippa from Piccadilly square.  It is very exciting!

In between passengers, I venture into this hipster coffee place.  I decide to try a half caf, extra hot, fifty percent skim, fifty whole, with foam, hold the cinnamon, add whip, a dollop of caramel, outrageous ( which means large) lavender, honey latte.  I feel so hip as I order and they ask for my name.  I say Fiona and say it with an Aussie accent.

I wait for my drink, the anticipation building.  The  barista calls out:”Fiona from down under!”  As I grab my cup, a guy says,  “A dingo ate my baby!”  I laugh and take my cup.  I head back on the road and wait for Blanche to chime.   Within minutes I am headed to pick up Sal.

I arrive to pick up Sal. He turns out to be a real douche.  He informs me that he will tell me where to go.  I feel like I am in boot camp and Sal is my drill sergeant.  He barks out things like, “Left!, right!, stop!, go!”  I feel like I am taking a test!  I am really stressed!

Sal bellows out ”Left now!”  I swerve left almost crashing into the cement blocks in front of the Vice President’s home.  A barrage of guards surround us.  Sal screams out, ”The other left! “.
I am asked for my driver’s license and try to explain to guards and secret service, that it is all Sal’s fault.  All of a sudden, screaming, blow hard, vocal Sal has become mute.

I have a hot flash and begin to sweat like a whore in church.  I realize that I will be caught by the secret service in a bold face lie.  I fudged my weight numbers on my driver’s license. I don’t know what the penalty will be for this, but I assume it will be severe.  I have thoughts of being held in isolation in the White House bunker, except, Olivia Pope is not coming to rescue me.  I glare at Sal in the rear view mirror. He is glaring back at me like this is all my fault.

After what seems like hours, they come back and hand me my license.  No mention of my weight, and I’m certainly not going to mention it.  I cautiously back out and Sal begins to berate me again.  I slam on the brakes and kick big mouth Sal out of my car.  For once he is silent, standing on the side of the road.  He becomes smaller and smaller in my rearview mirror the further I get from him.

Chapter Thirty-Seven: Ma’am hearts Anderson Cooper!

I LOVE Anderson Cooper!  I have loved him since he was a host on a show called The Mole. He is known as The Silver Fox.  He is kind, funny, loyal and smart!  I don’t even know him but this is my observation of him.  I want to be his friend!  He will be my cool gay friend. The problem is that he lives in NYC and I live in DC. But he comes to DC to do news stuff so I need to find out when he is in town and beg him to be my friend.  I have a plan for when I do see him.
Anderson’s mom was a blue jeans designer.  I found a pair of her jeans in a vintage clothing store years ago.  I bought them and still cannot fit in them.  My plan was to lose the weight and bump into him wearing them.  I figure this was a good ice breaker.  We would definitely become friends once he saw me wearing his mom’s jeans.  Since I cannot fit in them, I carry them rolled up in my purse.

I have tried to find out when AC (as I refer to him) will be in town.  I have called the CNN office here in DC and asked for his schedule.  Some woman named Janet refuses to give me any of AC’s schedule information.   I explain to Janet that I am not a whackadoodle. I am merely the friend AC never knew he needed.
I am hopeful that one day I will be fortunate enough to have AC as one of my passengers. Today  I park near the CNN building and wait.  Monty, one of the security guards informs me that I cannot just sit there.  He claims that he will have to call the cops.  I take off and make note to Google how to get a security job at CNN.

Blanche informs me that I am to pick up Phuck. I smile as I head towards Phuck and practice my opening line as he gets in the car. I arrive to pick up Phuck, and enjoy hearing Blanche say Phuck!

Phuck climbs into the car, and I shout a little too aggressively, “What the Phuck?!”.   I get an evil eye and a shake of the head.  I attempt a conversation with Phuck.  But, Phuck is ignoring me.  He is giving me nothing.  I ask Phuck where he is from. He informs me Detroit.  I tell him I love M&M and I saw Seven mile several times (these are all lies, but I need to bond with Phuck).
Phuck informs me that the name of the film was Eight Mile (big deal, I think, one mile off!).   Phuck catches me in this web of lies.  I blurt out ”Fuck!” and Phuck says  ”What?” To cover this faux pas, I explain to Phuck that I am terrible in math, hence my one mile off. He sighs and turns and looks out the window.

Blanche informs me that we are here to drop off Phuck.  I cannot help myself and blurt out ”Phuck off!” He darts out of the car flipping me the bird.  I laugh at the irony of this!

Chapter Thirty- Six:Ma’am and Dr. Junior

I almost choked to death on an asparagus spear.  I was Heimliched by Junior.  He was cool, calm and collected.  Because of this, Confused husband now thinks Junior can be a doctor.  I am still betting on Clown College, but, one never knows.

I didn’t see the Great White Light in my near death experience.   My life didn’t flash before my eyes. Instead, I thought about my Spanks that I had on underneath my dress.  I thought about how the morgue people would laugh their asses off at the sight of my Spanks.  This horrified me.  I must Google sexy Spanks.

I tell my passenger Juliana who is a nurse about my asparagus ordeal.  I tell her that I was near death and there is no white light nor peaceful feeling.  I tell her this because she is a nurse and she needs to know. Juliana mentions that perhaps I didn’t die but just choked. I inform her that it was a near death experience,  and I hate to be the bearer of bad news but, she needs to inform her patients to worry that they have on appropriate underwear, because that is all that really matters.

I drop Juliana off at a city hospital, and hope that she takes my advice on spilling the beans to her patients.  I mean, if she can suggest nice underwear for the morgue I think most of her patients would be very appreciative.  I suddenly have a brilliant idea!  Must Google getting a Victoria’s Secret franchise!  I could put  it in the hospital and get rid of those useless, overpriced hospital gift shops!  Sometimes, I am overwhelmed at my brilliance!

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