So, the transmission is dead in my car. Yuck. I need something to cheer me up. Something ridiculous. Something weird. Oh, what’s that down there?

Yep, that hits the spot.

For the last prompt I asked: What is the last thing that you shouted? 

The answers were so good that I’m going to use three of them.

I’ll use Allan, Amanda, and Jenn’s answers:

 

“Every morning I shout a not very nice word to my alarm clock. It starts with an “f.”

“Everyone to the left please, everyone stay to your left hand side!” or wait, maybe it was “Oscar, your bagel and coffee are ready!” i shout a lot while working. . .

Bennett Rogers, age 6, and probably your youngest reader, just yelled “Don’t say it, don’t even mention that word to me!” regarding my use of the word “school.”

 

My challenge is to concoct a story using all three lines at some point during the story.

Oscar’s head hit is pillow and sleep came quickly. Life was difficult these days and it had only been getting more difficult. Oscar had lost his job at a blood center because he would blog too much while he was at work. Now he had to work two jobs, both at competing smoothie stands. The transmission in his car had just died so he had to ride his bike everywhere. His calves were sore. His hamstrings were sore. His blender button pushing finger was sore.

The next morning his alarm rang out. Could it be six a.m. already?

“Fuschia!” exclaimed Oscar. Fuschia was one of Oscar’s made up swear words. “Dang, it’s early,” he thought to himself. He dragged his husky body out of the racecar bed he had slept in since he was 8. He was 36 now, a little wider, a little saggier, and a lot more stubbly. He grabbed his Sam’s 84 ounce bottle of GermX and gave himself a “shower.” Oscar didn’t believe in taking showers the way “the man” said he should. Instead he applied a layer of GermX, walked through a cloud of Gold Bond and called himself clean.

Oscar was feeling good about himself. Today was going to be the day. He had an interview for a “real job” far away from the fruit concentrate and sugar he had known for the last several months. He hopped off his bike, not the one he grew up with, and marched into 1414 Pine St. Inside was the world headquarters of Hoodwinker Straw Co. They were the largest manufacturers of straws in the world and Oscar was hoping to be their salesman.

“Shenandoah!” yelled Oscar. “That’s a long line!” He yelled a little too loud, but no one knew he was swearing. Indeed, it seemed like half of Salt Lake City had come out for this one job. The line stretched down the stairs, across the lobby, and right up against the revolving door. Oscar wanted to stop in the line, but he kept being forced into circles by the others using the door. Eventually, he shoved his way forward.

“Everyone to the left please, everyone stay to your left hand side!” shouted a lady with a clipboard. Oscar knew Carla all too well. They had dated briefly. It had ended horribly with Oscar’s leg stuck in a bear trap and Carla running the other direction. His calf hurt just looking at her. Oscar dutifully waited in line for 45 minutes while applicant after applicant walked out of the office with their shoulders shrugged.

Finally, Oscar summoned the courage to approach Carla to see if she could pull some strings for him.

“Hey, my little porcupine. How are you?” said Oscar in a charming and borderline creepy voice.

“Don’t say it, don’t even mention that word to me!” yelled Carla.

“Oh, come on. You’re still my porcupine,” tried Oscar.

“No, I am not. I am my own porcupine now. Get away or I will quill you.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll just be over here.”

An hour passed and Oscar now found himself at the front of the line. In fact, he was both the front and the back of the line. Everyone else had gone home, or as Oscar saw it, quit. He was feeling fresh. He quietly pumped himself up before he went in the office.

“You are the man Oscar Conklin. You are the fuschia man. Go show those tweezer lickers what’s up!”

Oscar was called in and sat in front of a panel of three graying men. At first he didn’t know if they were alive due to their lack of movement. He thought he might have detected a little, but he figured he’d need one of those nature cameras that show flowers blooming to make certain.

“Welcome Mr. Conklin. Please, tell us a little about yourself,” said the oldest of the three.

“Well, I’ve essentially been working in sales my whole life,” explained Oscar. He went through all of the ups and downs, mostly the ups of his career and what he brought to the table. It was all the standard bullshrimp, as Oscar would say, one would expect at an interview.

Although he was a man down on his luck he didn’t show it. In fact at one point he stopped midsentence and pulled out of his briefcase a bagel and coffee grounds. As they watched, he went to the table on the side of the room and put the bagel in the toaster and the coffee grounds in the coffee maker that had been provided for the interviewers.

He quietly walked back to his chair and sat down. Confidently, he said, “Gentlemen, I tell you what. Let’s cut through all the bullshrimp. I’ve told you all you need to know. I’m going to leave out that door. I want you guys to talk about me as an asset to your company. Decide if I’m a good fit. Decide about me by the time that bagel is done and the coffee is ready. I’ll keep walking. But, if you decide you need me. Let me know it’s ready.

With that, Oscar turned and left. He squeamishly smiled when he was out of sight. His heart was pounding and his legs were actually shaking. He had never done anything like this in his life. Filled with confidence he slowed his stride. He padded across the marble floor and slapped Carla’s bottom as he passed. She let out a gasp, but he kept going.

Then, right before he hit the revolving door that had given him so much trouble earlier in the day, he heard the voice of an older man shout from the office.

“Oscar, your bagel and coffee are ready!”

Next prompt: What is a unique hobby of someone that you know?”

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About jeffhoughton

I'm a sometimes writer, actor, comedian and an all the time adventurer.

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