"Hey, Mama. Like my in-between?"
Fluffy's wearing a gold hat, white makeup, a wifebeater, tighty-whiteys, white knee socks and gold shoes.
He describes a fun street bit involving pillows and another actor, and some sneaking.
But could you... would there be a way to, to give a pillow to a patron?
"And make the patron part of the re-enactment?"
Right, and let the patron whack away at you with the pillow, which they will, because they don't really want to hurt you. Or two patrons, even.
"Give the patron a pillow. Brilliant! That's brilliant."
I thought it was street performing, but I'm happy to be brilliant. Anything for you, JohnBoy.
A rose-seller brings a rose to Gigi, hands it to her with a sweet smile.
I'm sure I frown.
She catches my expression, and laughs silently at me. She makes a karate chop with her hand, then starts feeling her torso, trying to remember the location of her organs. She mouths "liver" at me.
I sigh, and show her the spot below the rib cage on the right side. I make short chopping motions with my hand over it. She kicks her feet, convulsed with inaudible giggles.
"Which one of you is Syb...Sigh... Cybele?" All other white panto clowns point to me. We are exiting lunch. A young lady has accosted us.
"I have a note for you."
She's in garb. Who is sending me a note? An admirer? Hmmm? Where's my rose, then?
"It's from my mom. She used to be Kate? She turned into a hermit after she had kids." She hands me a folded paper, with "Cyb" on the outside and an e-dress on the inside.
In an instant, this young lady is much more beautiful than she was a moment before, because I can see traces of my dear friend all around her face. The unsuspecting teenager is grabbed most enthusiastically and hugged and kissed most thoroughly. She is most tolerant of this treatment, knowing she is a surrogate.
Here I am, still, waiting for you to find me.
"Hey, there you are!"
It's Rufus Rutabega! and the SeaLion! I don't remember what we called the sea lion. My first favorite young juggler, who could juggle seven clubs, but only with his mouth wide open. Hot damn! How many years has it been?
"Jim told me where to find you."
Really? How did he know? But here you are! He finds a pen. He's local again, he says. We exchange info. Huzzah! We'll have beer together. Or with our respective kids, ice cream. Wow! You show up after all these years!
And here I am, still, waiting for you to find me.
Coco calls. There has been a fire.
'But here's the funny part, because you know there's always a funny part."
Like Nanny's teeth?
"Yes, like Nanny's teeth."
At her husband's funeral, Nanny went out without her teeth. One of the grandkids brought them, in their little wet plastic case, to the funeral home. Nanny didn't feel like putting them in, after all. Coco got to hold them. She went to the lobby and put them in her jacket pocket. Later, she remembered she didn't wear her jacket today, and fetched them out of the pocket of a jacket that looked like, but wasn't, hers. She put them in the car. After the bit in the funeral home, there was the bit at the cemetary, where the jacket's owner was wearing it. Coco went to him and told him "a funny story."
"Ah," he said. "I wondered why my pocket was wet."
So what's it this time?
"You know that dog she's got, with the same name as my husband? That's so old and untrained and fat..."
And shits under the piano?
"That one. Well, that dog was dead. He was dead of smoke inhalation. Dead. Just- dead."
That sounds like a good thing.
"Well, but the goddamn paramedics gave the stupid dog mouth-to-mouth, and then took it to the animal hospital!"
Oh. And him with no piano to shit under now. What kind of a life will that be?
"So, what, do I have to complain to get a mention?" asks Firehorse. Well, no. But it helps sometimes.
Three weekends remain. Here I am, still, waiting for you to find me.
(One Thing Leads To Another; The Fixx)