Norah and Poindexter are comfy cozy as Fabio the cab driver rushes them off to the Ritz Carlton. It is still raining and dark by now. Fabio is having a knee slapping riot driving through the puddles in the road and splashing the pedestrians standing on the curb. It's the most fun he has had in several weeks. Norah has dozed off and her head rests on Poindexter's shoulder. He loves the smell of her...Bengay with a hint of Icy Hot. The horse lineament she rubs on her neck...not so much. But he understands. Love has no boundries.
Fabio pulls under the canopy at the Ritz. The doorman rushes to the cab, sees who is inside and sighs. Fibromites. Snuggies, wool caps and of course The Fog, which he recognizes immediately. It's all in the eyes...the fog. He has seen it many times before.
Poindexter gently shakes Norah and she yells her usual 'Owie, Owie'. "We are at the Ritz, Norah Fairchild. Wake up!"
"As in the crackers?" she asks, obviously confused. A short fibro-nap sometimes scrambles her brain.
"NO...as in the hotel." Poindexter tells her.
Fabio is chuckling under his breath. As much as fibromites annoy him, he enjoys the comedy show. He can only imagine them checking in...tee hee.
After Poindexter pays the fare...$1678.97 plus a generous tip, the doorman helps them out. "Luggage in the truck, sir?" he asks.
'No luggage," Poindexter replies, suddenly realizing how that sounds. "We intend to buy what we need in your gift shoppe. This is a spur of the moment indulgance for my dear Norah Fairchild, who is famous around the world for her Lanicane commericals."
"Whatever", the doorman says, and ushers them inside. Poindexter reaches in his pocket and tips him with several coke bottle twist tops and a subway token, as anything round and shiny looks and feels like coins to him when he is flaring. They hobble to the front desk.
'Ah...good evening, Mr. Pencilneck!" the clerk exclaims. "We haven't seen you in quite a while! The fibro suite, per usual?"
Poindexter looks over at Norah to see if she wonders why the clerk knows him by name. Yes...he may be a scrawny, almost translucent looking fibromite, but there have been other women in his life. Like Bertha Butz, the prison matron, who carried a gun and kept telling him she could snap him in half like a freshly picked green bean. And Spitunia Hawes, one of the only female lumber jacks in America. She just about killed him. And of course, there were several fibromites that he found in the Personal Ads in the back of his subscription to Fibro Sucks Big Time magazine. He is The Man...yes he is.
Norah does not notice the familiarity and is staring at the elevator door. Her eyes are wild with fury. Standing there are (organ music please) Steede Toesnapper and a woman. He has his arm draped around her lovely tanned shoulders and they are laughing. She lets out a shriek and rushes towards them, her Snuggie flapping like a sheet in a stiff wind, in the wake of her movement. Oh, the horrible owie.
Steede sees her and keeps pressing on the elevator button. The door will not open.
"What are you doing out of jail, you phoney Toesnapper!" Norah cries out.
The woman looks at Steede and shrugs her shoulders. Just another nut job fibromite, she thinks to herself.
Norah gets within two feet of them, then speaks to the woman. 'And who are you?" she asks.
"I am Brandi...Brandi with an 'i', not 'y'. I am Dr. Toesnapper's personal assistant. What's it to ya?"
"Ha!" Norah laughs, and not in a funny way. "Do you know this man has fathered one twin with my sister Mysty? That he has been arrested for practicing toesnapping illegally by stealing a dead man's identity? That he has done me wrong in so many ways...."
Steede gets in Norah's face. "I paid my debt to society. A $12.87 fine and 14 mintues of community service. I am in the process of getting my own toesnapping license. I should have it by high noon tomorrow. Now get away from us and go back to the desk with your Don Knotts boyfriend. Brandi and I are headed for the conference room...to...to...have a conference with somebody. Yes...that's right. We are going to engage in an important conference."
Brandi nods her head in agreement, but her eyes are darting back in forth in there sockets as this whack job fibromite has just hit her with a ton of unpleasant information.
The elevator finally opens and Steede pushes his lovely, blonde haired 'assistant' inside. Norah bangs on the door as it closes. Oh, that rotten Steede Toesnapper. Why can't she just let him go? Yes, she and Poindexter should have stopped at Barnes and Noble and picked up a copy of 'Why Women Love Men Who Treat Them Like Crap.'
She is crying when we fade to black, organ music and a commercial for some stupid vegetable peeler than can not only peel a carrot in both directions but can scrape the varnish off an old door in ten minutes or less. Great for warts too!
fibro, menieres disease, RLS, anxiety disorder, disc compression, scoliosis, spinal stenosis TMJ Meds: valium Advil