Figured I better write this down before I forget. I was so busy today with customers hell bent on driving me crazy. They almost succeeded too!
“We need it back tomorrow morning!”
“It’s in Rhode Island. They just got it.”
“But we need it! We have product on hold!”
“It’s a 3-day cal, minimum.”
“Have it sent back overnight!”
Last night I dreamed that Jeb and I were travelling to some distant place known to be very dangerous with a high criminal element. Why on earth we wanted to go to such a place, on a vacation no less, is beyond me. Maybe we had we wanted the adrenalin rush of flirting with death or something? But thinking it over as we packed, I told Jeb, “Maybe you should bring a gun.”
He was delighted to of course. He’s always wanted to go armed and dangerous I suspect, despite being in general a very gentle person. Maybe it’s just some part of him clamoring for expression? I’ve never encouraged this particular expression in him however, so it’s odd that I did so in my dream.
I very soon regretted it.
Every time someone looked at us at all funny while we journeyed by train, Jeb would pull the gun out of his pocket, point it at whoever, and say, “Are you looking at me? Are you punk?”
I’d lean over and whisper to him, “Please put your gun away, Dirty Harry. You’re making people nervous.”
He’d blush at that, say, “Oh. I guess maybe you’re right,” and immediately put the gun away.
People tried not to stare after witnessing this, but a lot of eyes rolled my way when he wasn’t looking as if to say, ‘Can’t you put a leash or something on him?’ Then he’d catch someone’s quickly averted stare and out would come the gun again and the whole scene would replay itself.
A Mafia boss got on the train, I’m talking Godfather type, who appraised everyone on the bus with no-nonsense killer’s eyes and Jeb, of course, went right up to his face and said, “Are you looking at me? Are you punk?”
I groaned, at that point out of easy reach of him to talk him down.
The Godfather looked him straight in the eyes and said, “Yeah, I’m looking at you. Do you got a problem with that?”
Jeb got nose-to-nose with him and said, “Yeah, I do… Punk.” And out came the gun. It was pressed right into the Godfather’s side.
“Jeb!” I whisper shouted and was ignored.
Everyone on the train was staring wide-eyed at him and Godfather now. We were all bracing for the inevitable sound of a gunshot. But it didn’t come.
The Godfather looked more annoyed than threatened. He suddenly and very handily wrestled the gun from Jeb’s grip, popped the clip out, emptied bullets all over the floor, put the clip into the pocket of his blazer and handed the rest of the gun back to Jeb, telling him to “Sit down and shut up!”
Jeb sat down and shut up. It was like a gangster movie out of the 1930s. I was more than a little irked with Jeb and so let him sit alone for the rest of the ride. The Godfather, meanwhile, got quietly off at the next stop.
When we finally got to our hotel, we’d no sooner put our luggage down than Jeb declared, “I’m going to go get my gun clip back. All of us groaned at that and tried to talk him out of it, but he ignored us all and went rushing out the door.
He came back some long while later still without the clip and grumbling how the Godfather was probably hiding from him like a skulking coward. I doubted that was the case, but was diplomatic enough for once not to say so.
“Well he should hide,” Jeb said. “Gun clip or not, I’m ready for him. Look what I got.”
A chill ran down my spine. Now what?
Out of his coat pocket, he pulled out a battery pack attached to a red green wires which were attached to some sort of adapter. That stumped me.
He pulled out the cats’ wire bristle brush and attached the adapter to it. I cocked my headed at him in total confusion.
Before I could even ask what that was about, he flipped the switch on the battery pack and little forks of lightning started flowing out of the wire bristles to every corner of the room. We were all shrieking an dodging the bolts while Jeb stood there obliviously grinning, apparently quite pleased with his own ingenuity.
Cal techs! I tell you!
Meanwhile, real Jeb was concernedly rubbing my shoulder to ease me out of what he assumed was a nightmare.
In the dream, the wire bristled electric terror device suddenly fizzled out and, frowning, Jeb said, “Hmm. Guess I need to tweak it some more.” With that, he took it quietly into the bedroom while we all came out of our hiding places behind furniture and shooting each other worried glances.
I knew I had to find some way of distracting Jeb before he could get his new toy tweaked!
A knock came on the door. It was a bell boy with two Sunday papers for us and something in the advertising and headlines on it that indicated it was Valentine’s day.
Does Valentine’s day fall on a Sunday this year? Remind me not to let Jeb bring his gun if we should go on a trip!
I pawed through our copy of the paper looking for the funnies section. That would be sure to distract him! What I found first though was an advertisement for the local bakery that included a picture of a red frosted, rose-bedecked, heart shaped cake that was said to be rich chocolate. Using what could only be described as pure magic, I fleshed it out into edible 3-D reality.
“Do ours too!” Janet, the other wife, said to me. So I did and handed them their delicious cake.
I took our cake into the bedroom where Jeb had gone… and must have woken up because that’s all I can remember.