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GatorBytes
Say, hey! Direct to you from too-sunny FL. MAJOR new developments here in God's Waiting Room. Ms. Gatorbits'n'bytes (Ms. G) seems to be on some virtual vacation, so I've decided to step up to the plate here and will try to give you the low down from this southern most state.
Let me introduce myself. I'm Ms. G's best friend and live-in companion of several years. I wasn't her first choice of roommates, but I kind of landed here by default, insinuated and proved myself until now we're inseparatable. My name is Michael, or Mikey to close friends. Of course, I've been called other things, too, when Ms. G is in a 'mood.' I guess it's a 'girl thing,' because she seems to be carrying a whole lot of attitude recently. But, I've broad shoulders and can deal with most situations (breeding tells, you know). If not, I hide in some obscure part of the house or leave home for a bit, even if that means getting locked in the garage until one of us does an attitude readjustment. Basically, my job is to secure the premises and provide a free-from-fear atmosphere. (But who's young enough around these parts to pose a threat?) No, I don't do the lawn or take care of the pool, we hire others to do those things in this state of perpetual household maintenance. However, I've finally segued, with cause, myself into 'pampered pet' status when not on assignment (although I really never let down my guard when it comes to her). I only 'roll over and play dead' for effect. And while she is SO blonde, as if it matters, although very male, I'm a natural redhead (and much younger; 'meow,' as some of my friends would say). But, enough about me for now.
So, what's new in the neighborhood, you ask . . . well, let's take a look at just last night. 'Twas the night before Wednesday and all through the house - there was chaos. While Ms. G continued to be decidedly oblivious to everyday nuances, she also tried to ignore a major drama unfolding right here, right now in our humble abode. Initially, she totally ignored the potentially out-of-control party antics of some of our other friends. I screamed my brains out trying to get her attention to expel the party crasher who was holding everyone in animated suspension. But no, she had to let the situation reach critical mass before putting her foot down. Please remember, we live in a small, very quiet, mostly senior citizen-populated neighborhood.
Now, seriously, what would you have done. Our five known, usually free-loading friends were having a civilized little get-together on the lanai around the pool, when all of a sudden a very fat (though admittedly of some appeal) 'screen crasher' broke through the pool cage and appeared on the scene, commencing to make himself at home and scarfing hors d'oeuvres with the best of the regulars. When he was finally asked to leave, he gave a low-pitched snort and then fell asleep in the corner. At which point in time, all of our friends exited, letting chubby (who I nicknamed Rocky) sleep it off.
That was enough to make Ms. G snap, but not brave enough to make her try to toss out this interloper of uncertain temperament on her own. As her hysteria rose and she forced me back in the house to decide who to call around at what was now just around midnight, she made a panicked dash across the street for more muscle. Putting my pride aside, I decided to let them handle it. God speed. But, in actuality, with a few meaningful words in his ear, I had sent Rocky packing while they were still discussing strategy. I suppose though that Rocky just moved on down the road; probably down the block to another 'do' that he could turn into an all-nighter - it turns out, so word from informed agencies who know about him goes, that he is an indiscriminate, nocturnal party animal. Unfortunately, he's a little too big to blend in, but his demeanor commands at least grudging respect. I'd like to see him visit again soon, but Ms G might become homicidal at that point . . . God forfend if we're ever faced with serious FL-type trouble of the unknown sort; i.e., snakes, gators in the pool, large turtles, those growling bears about which there are highway warning signs (and this is FL!?!), etc.
Oh well, it's always something. TTFN.
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Consulting, Inc.
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