Fun at the Mall

I have been recuperating this past week.

I was on my way to the mall for a little jogging and girl watching, actually very little jogging and a lot of girl watching.

I was coming out of the shade of the parking garage into the glare of the sunlight. I could not see well for the glare. I heard a banshee scream right behind me. A high pitched woman's voice called out “George” and a string of curses accusing George of being putrefied, the child of unwed parents, and an indulger in various vulgar, depraved and physically impossible sexual activities. I am not George, but I turned to see what the yelling was about.

While turning I saw small ax swinging my way, seemingly in slow motion. It was a woman with uncombed hair, looking like she hadn't bathed in a very long time. I could not move I was so astonished. All I could do was watch as it swung toward me. I felt it cut into my neck. I remember thinking that I am dead, that this first blow would cut jugular vein and I there is no way I was going to survive that, let alone the next one. I fell taking the ax with me. I could see her crazed eyes open in surprise. “You're not George.” she said. She turned and ran. I don't remember a lot after that. Security guards, a trip to the hospital and a lot of people poking and prodding. It seems that by turning I may have foiled a stroke at the jugular and ending up with a slice in the neck. A number of stitches, a whole lot of forms filled out for police and doctors and I was sent home.

I am going to have a souvenir for a while. No one seems to have any idea who the woman was. I am wondering who George. I am very glad I am not him. I don't think I want to add either one of them to my friends list.

What I Did On My Summer Vacation

I was asked to submit a “What I Did On My Summer Vacation” piece. Here it is:

My wife and I recently returned from a trip to Florida, ostensibly to visit family. This is a trip that was scheduled for the last week in July, to Florida.

Don't even ask why. I am trying to conceal at least a few levels of insanity from the general public and my friends in particular.

The flight was long and a physically painful agony because of the narrow confines and hard seats. Fortunately that was the only bad part of the trip, except for the absence of our daughter-in-law who was rejected at the US boarder for reasons that arose quite unexpectedly.

I wanted to cancel the trip on the spot, but tickets and room rent had been paid and were non-refundable.

I decided to make the most of it, indulging in a four day Bacchanalian revelry, the details of which are somewhat fuzzy. Palm trees, sand, pelicans, bikinis are in there somewhere.

Yes, my bikini was frowned on. Florida lawmen seem not to have a sense of humor, I mean it was in the palm tree. It had three pieces. What more did they want? Was I supposed to wear it too?

Sand? The airlines fussed when I took a suitcase full through security, but it was fond memories I was carrying after all.

The rest is lost in haze. I am sure my memories are good, I think.

Everyone knows I would not lie about such a thing.