Friday Pillow Talk – Shreds

Thursdays are strange days at the office.  There is a certain stressful energy that builds up during the week and by Thursday, everyone is running pretty fast, throwing a lot of plates in the air and trying to keep them all spinning.  Even though I have previously said that not everything is urgent on Fridays, I have often wondered if the curious corporate circus act which is Thursday might be what causes the seeming urgencies of Friday.

Luckily, I have a friend at work, Cherie Ripperton.  I know it sounds like a make-believe name, but it’s her married name and now she’s divorced.  We walk almost every day at lunch and it helps to clear the circus cobwebs out of our brains.  We get a little Vitamin D.  What’s cool is the “trade port” we work at is a former Air Force base and Cherie lived there a  long time ago when she was a little girl; she sometimes tells me things about her childhood while we walk along the flight line or around what used to be her own little small town.

We’ve been walking for at least 2 years and when we’re not talking about work or memories, we might discuss “current events.”  Tips and techniques for saving money and becoming debt free are popular topics, including our regular lament about wearing the same old clothes for just a few more months in order to pay a bill or save a few dollars for an emergency.  One day, I was tying my sneaker and I pointed at the hem of my old jeans and said “look at that, my jeans are shredded!”  It was funny and it became the “joke of the walk.”

“A customer is coming to the office and we’re supposed to dress up.  What are you going to wear,” I might ask.

“Probably my black shreds with a blue blouse.  But definitely not my tan shreds” Cherie replied.  “They’re too shredded.”

And so it goes, unless the “trade port” turkeys cross our path.

Ayuh, there are turkeys on the old Air Force base.  Like all turkeys, they generally move in a group, with their silly pin heads bobbling front to back.  One never knows when they’re going to show up and if they do cross our path on the walk, they quickly move on because they don’t want anything to do with two women walking.

Unfortunately, this Thursday Cherie and I did not take our regularly scheduled, almost like clockwork walk.  It was my fault because I let the spinning plates control me instead of sticking to the tried and true routine.  The result was an evening’s fitful sleep that no seed catalog or gardening magazine could remedy.  If I had been at home, I know my father, King of Winter Carnival, ’51, would have said “I think someone was chasing you last night.”

Sure enough, on the “dream port” Cherie and I were taking our lunch walk and everything seemed normal until a group of “trade port” turkeys started chasing us.  Except they weren’t the normal size; they were the size of full-grown Saint Bernards and they were wearing gold chain necklaces with circular medallions.  The medallions were swinging back and forth as they chased us, occasionally clanking on the ground or on another turkey’s medallion.

They were trying to peck at our clothes.

All of a sudden, Cherie’s leg gave out on her and she fell.  I kept running and I didn’t even look back to see what happened to her because the biggest turkey of the bunch was pecking at the shredded hem of my jeans.  I was trying to scream (the way one does in dreams) and I was pounding my fists impotently at the pecking turkey.  I was almost at the office when I woke up in a panic.

I hope Cherie is ok.  The first thing I’m going to do when I get to the office today is tell her I’m sorry I left her alone to fight the turkey posse.  That’s what friends do.  Even if it was just in a dream, when we’re wrong we say we’re sorry.  Right?

Right.

Do you have a friend you might have wronged?  Make it right today!

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3 Responses to Friday Pillow Talk – Shreds

  1. Kim says:

    I had to read this blog again today….It’s still made me laugh just as hard as the first time I read it and tears are actually streaming down my face!!

  2. The land where Proust never strayed says:

    It’s like the old joke about running away from the bear.

    I don’t have to outrun the bear, I just have to outrun you.

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