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!
Out Of My Head! 