Chapter sixty-one: Ma’am and the Schnitzel

The next morning I am driving and thinking about Don and Jane. Confused husband was eerily silent on the walk back home from the bistro.   I assume his delusions of grandeur went up in a plume of smoke with Don.

Blanche lets me know that I am headed to someone named Fritz.   I arrive to pick up Fritz.  He is a giant German in full lederhosen garb.   He is also intoxicated.   He lays sprawled out on the backseat and asks me if I want a bite of his big and tasty weinerschnitzel.   I inform Fritz that he is on the cusp of being sued for sexual harassment.   He hiccups and laughs, and says with a thick German accent to turn around and look at his big sausage.   I inform Fritz that if I turn around, and he is exposed than I will call the police.   He hiccups loudly and says “Everyone likes my sausage.”  He sits up and shoves a giant sausage covered in mustard towards me. Dollops of mustard drip on my shoulder.   I slap Fritz’s sausage right out of his hands. The enormous sausage goes flying.  It has so much mustard covering it, the entire sausage sticks to the roof of my car!  I tell Fritz that if it stains, Confused husband is going to be pissed.   Fritz yells, “Vell, I vill tell him dat you slapped my sausage too hard!  It is really your fault!”

I let Fritz know that no one is slapping any sausages!  We are headed to Fritz’s hotel. He tells me he came here from Ohio and that he travels throughout the country visiting German festivals.

Fritz farts, it smells like sauerkraut.   I hastily role down the windows.   I lecture Fritz on the art of manners.   Fritz shares that he has gastro problems.   I enlighten Fritz that one doesn’t need to be a gastroenterologist to figure that out.   I suggest that perhaps Fritz stop eating and drinking his way through every Oktoberfest.

My lecture fall’s on deaf ears.   Fritz is passed out on the backseat, snoring and cuddling his enormous sausage.   I really don’t have the heart to wake him when we arrive at his hotel.   I decide to let him sleep, and head to pick up my next passenger.

Blanche navigates me to pick up someone named Moon.  We arrive in front of a yoga studio.  There stands Moon in her yoga attire.  She attempts to get in the back and is startled at the sight of Fritz. I ask her to hop up front.

Moon climbs up front and asks about Fritz who is now snoring like a platypus.   I explain the giant, drunk, lederhosen clad, sausage snuggling, Fritz and his German festival groupie status.

As I wind down my diatribe of the life of Fritz, he lets out an enormous fart.   Moon is startled!   Again, I open the windows and explain Fritz’s gastro issues.   Moon asks if Fritz is related to me.  I am gob smacked and frankly I inform Moon somewhat crestfallen, that a person with her obvious intelligence would lump me in the same gene pool as Fritz! 

Moon attempts to defend herself by questioning why I would have a non- family member asleep in the back of my car whilst picking up other passengers.  I assure Moon that I am a consummate professional, and would never allow ANY form of nepotism to rear its ugly head during my work hours.

Moon says she thinks it’s odd that I would keep a passenger asleep in the back of my car.  I tell Moon that if it were she asleep in the back of my car, snuggling with a sausage, I wouldn’t have the heart to kick her out of the car either.

For an earthy, crunchy, yoga type person, I find Moon extremely confrontational.   I assumed that she would be calmer, with a kind of “laissez- faire” attitude.   Moon tells me that she would NEVER be passed out snuggling a sausage, because she is vegan.   I respond that IF she was passed out cuddling tofu, I would have let her sleep.

Moon stares at me, and sucks in her breath. She mutters:  “I cannot believe we are even having this conversation!”  I finally drop Moon off and decide that not all vegans are all calm and kumbaya.

I look at Fritz, who is still in his schnitzel slumber.   I head home with Fritz.  When I arrive home, I find Confused husband and Relish having a beer.   I ask them to go out to the car and unload the back seat for me.

I start dinner with One too many, as Confused husband and Relish burst into the house, carrying the passed out Fritz still with sausage clenched in his hands. Confused husband bellows:  “When you said to unload the car, I was expecting grocery bags.  I didn’t think you meant a giant German in lederhosen!   By the way, the entire interior of the car smells like bratwurst and sauerkraut!  I have to get the car professionally cleaned from the smells and mustard stains!”

Relish chimes in:  “Is this another victim like Chuckles?”   I explain that the sauerkraut scent is from Fritz’s gastro issues.  I share how Fritz had wanted me to see his giant sausage which he had covered in mustard.  I slapped his sausage, and the mustard went all over the car ceiling.

Confused husband and Relish just stare at me.   I also inquire as to why Relish is here? Relish just shakes his head, and tells me that he has arrested Doyle for the bank robbery.   I need to come down to the station in the morning and ID him.   Fritz rises from his slumber.  One too many can’t contain his excitement of the possibility of he and Confused husband returning to the “awesome” safe house.  They tell Fritz all about the safe house.   Fritz chimes in that he too would like to visit the “awesome” safe house. 

I cannot believe what I am hearing!

Chapter sixty: Ma’am and the magician….

I attend One too many’s Open house. Ironically, one of his classmates Uri and his father are there. His father turns out to be Nikoli! I wave and holler”Yoo-hoo Nikoli!”. Nikoli is shocked to see me! He acts like he doesn’t know who I am! I find the whole thing incredulous! Confused husband whisper/yells for me to sit down! 

I try to explain that I know Uri’s dad from the Madame’s house. Confused husband could care less. One too many’s teacher is going on and on about something. I think about how good a hibiscus margarita would taste about now. All I hear is :”Whamp, whamp, whamp.” Like when Charlie Browns teacher used to speak. I stare across the room at Nikoli, who is trying to advert his eyes from my penetrating gaze. 

One too many’s teacher announces that he is going to read part of an essay from one of his students.The topic was: About me… ( Ugh! I just want a Friggen margarita!) He clears his throat like he is about to announce the best film winner at the Oscars. 

The essay begins with:” My mom and dad got drunk one night at a Mexican restaurant. My dad said that the margaritas were two for the price of one. Which is a bargain. They also got a complimentary side of guac.” I notice Confused husband has slid down a little in his chair. The teacher continues reading: “My mom and dad drink a bunch of margaritas. They leave the restaurant and realize that they can’t drive home. Uber didn’t exist in those days, and my dad said he wasn’t paying a fortune for a cab. He saw a UPS truck and asked the delivery guy if he would drive them home. The guy agreed but they had to help him make his package deliveries on the way home. My mom puked in the back of the truck on a bunch of packages. The UPS guy kicked them out of the truck in a sketchy part of town.They found a run down skidrow motel where they stayed the night. That pretty much sums up how I came to be.”

The teacher takes off his glasses with a great flourish and stares at me and Confused husband. The entire classroom of parents eyes are upon us. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Confused husband has almost slid from his chair to the floor.

I really don’t see what the big deal is! I guarantee 98 percent of these kids in One too many’s classroom, were conceived from a two for one box wine sale! I glare back at these hypocrites! 

I look over at Nikoli who is smirking at me! Really? I can promise you that little Uri was conceived from one too many Stolis!

The teacher clears his throat and announces that perhaps certain parents need to be more proactive when checking their children’s homework.

Next to me, Confused husband is glaring at me, and shaking his head in agreement with the teacher.

After open house, we walk with another couple Don and Jane to a nearby bistro. I somewhat know Jane from school stuff. Don informs us, he  is an amateur magician. After suffering through him pulling coins, swizzle sticks, and olives out of our ears. Jane tells us that five years ago, Don quit his job at an investment firm, to fulfill his dream to become a professional magician. I almost choke on my wine! This guy has been practicing magic for five years and all he can do is pull crap out of our ears?!

Confused husband praises Jane with a disgusting amount of gusto, for her assisting Don in living his dream. He not so subtly implies that I should pay attention. I reiterate that fulfilling ones dream as a professional napper is not a reason to leave ones employment.

I ask Don if he has gotten any gigs over these past five years? He says he has worked a few bar and bat mitzvahs. A gig at the local YMCA. Jane jumps in that Don has to hone his craft and it takes time. I tell Jane that she is a better woman than I.

I really want to shake Jane and say that Don will never be the next Houdini! He can’t even make an olive disappear! I see it smooshed in his fist as he pretends to pull it out of my ear.

I want to shout:”Don’t quit your day job! Oops too late!” 

The waitress appears more magically than Don could ever. She presents the check with a wave of her hand. I am thinking that our waitress has a better chance of becoming a magician than Don.

Ever the attempt at performing, Don pulls a credit card out of the waitresses ear. He offers to pick up the tab. I am now the magician, as I read Confused husbands mind thinking if he knew Don was paying, he would have ordered a snack.

The waitress returns, informing Don his card has been declined. Why am I not shocked? Jane has a frozen smile on her face. To Confused husbands dismay, I give the waitress our card. I also whisper to Confused husband :  “This is why we work and don’t live the dream!”

I look over at Jane and Don who have done their best act of the night. Their chairs are empty and they have disappeared.