Hot and humid is the forecast again. It is a good thing my dog Otis likes to run about early in the morning. Usually we head out just before daybreak. I see the sun rise nearly everyday. Strangely enough, these sightings only remind me that I should catch more sunsets. Women these days seem as elusive as the sun. You see them come and you see them go. You even talk to one or two a day, yet they too fade. The only thing that stays with me is the damn sand. It is everywhere, my knees, my shins, my elbows and with no doubt, my feet. Oh well, I have to kick an empty water bottle for O' now. Otis is greatly amused when I become to tired of booting it. I drop to my knees to gather sand to fill the thing with sand in order for it to obtain some weight. More distance means more fun in dog speak. This simple task seems to be greatly appreciated by Otis as he kicks it in to another gear chasing after it. He even growls a bit with sand seeping through it's cracks. Fierce Jack Russell/rat terrier. The sun becomes unbearable after about an hour so we head back to our crib.
Our nights usually consist of copious amounts of weed smoking and baseball, courtesy ESPN. A few whipped creamed ice cream sundaes covered in nuts and pecans typically follow weed baths. I drift full bellied with a wondering mind in to sleep. Am I dreaming, I feel a wet nose at my feet.? I pull the sheet back to inspect, it is just Otis. It is still dark out. It must be walk time. My foot sniff alarm went off. Otis and I venture out. At the end of my driveway there lays a turned over trash can with a bag ripped open spilling out junk, slop, and crap from it. Flies and all sorts of bugs are crawling a muck. The stench is overwhelming. My stomach turns a bit. We walk on. We have to go. I see the same lackluster sights I witness everyday. A broken down car at an empty gas station. One of it's pumps has no hose. Plastic bags blowing in the wind here and there. Urban tumbleweeds I reckon for these parts. We weave in and out of bushes. The palm trees large firm leaves brush my face as I meander through them. They are heavy and firm and green. I hear music now. Odd at eight thirty in the morning I think. The music begins to become more audible as I approach its source. A real estate office's idea for promotion is to play music on they're outdoor speakers, twenty four seven. It plays mostly dance music. It is not that bad. They play Michael Jackson frequently. Today it is laying down a track from Run D.M.C. called 'it's tricky.' Just as I begin to surmise how tricky it all really is, I see a puppy headed directly towards us. First Otis becomes overly excited. Then I become excited because I now see beautiful naked feet with nails colored black, flip flopping my way. She flops in to range. 'Hey,' she say's. Somewhat nervously I squirm out, 'hey.' Otis can't control himself. He proceeds to dry hump this little poodle she is walking. Instantly I say, 'Otis, come on now, that's not right.' This girl giggles out, 'oh no,.. it's o.k., it's o.k. .' 'Stop Otis,' I say. I pull him away before there are any accidents. I mutter, 'okay boy, that will do. Sorry about this. He just woke up and he is full of energy. We live right there,' I point. 'You live there.' she say's? 'Wow I live there.' She points to a house that lies five houses down from me. Nice. ' I just moved down from Jersey.' The pretty girl just smiles halfheartedly. 'Yep,' I say. ' Another knucklehead form New Jersey.' 'Oh okay,... nice,' she say's. She wonders aloud, 'you just here for vacation.' 'No,' I say. I begin to try to work my eye off the dogs and on to her. I look up rather nonchalantly. She doesn't catch me, she is busy with her mutt. She is forced to move her face away from mine. I glance at her body up and down of course. Nice, very nice, maybe too much to handle for me. Yea right, I'll be fine. I proceed. Many words fill my mind to describe this voluptuous scene. My mind only, nothing spills out of my mouth. To shield my offensive eyes however, I speak, 'I'm here for good I suppose.' Pretty girl rolls her eyes, "that's what I said, ten years ago'. We both begin to chuckle, and we are not really sure why. I have to catch this momentous wave of good vibrations. I must say something and now is my chance. I spill out, 'well may I say that being here hasn't done you any harm.' Our eyes stop to determine each others positioning. She takes a quick moment and say's as if I will conducting an interview with her, 'hi I'm Lorraine.' I reply, 'beautiful name,... it suits you.' I continue, 'I'm Sam.' I reach for her. She reaches back. Our energies collide through our grasp. Nothing else matters now. We both know at that point that we will remain close to one another. In one little moment all our streams flooded with affection so great that it left no doubt as to the mouth of that stream will end up in an embrace. I guess I will see sunsets again after all. However, you never really know is what I've learned by my repetitious behavior in the ways of women. I've bought the farm a few times only to have had my crops fail to produce, sort of speak. Reproduction is not my main concern currently and may not be ever, if I can't score a date. Lorraine say's, 'ugh. sorry but little lamb chop here has to use the ladies room, I uh..' 'You gotta go I say. 'Duty calls, no pun intended.' A sweet laugh breaks away from her lips and she slips out, 'right, okay then. We are out here everyday so I'll see you right?' I return in full accent, 'I reckon you will.' What a dork I am. Lorraine say's now, 'wow, pretty authentic.' Otis pulls me harder, 'see you soon Lorraine.' 'Bye Sam.'
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