What if a friend
decided to play a silly Q & A while driving home from a fun girl weekend?
What if she asked the
question, “Write the opening words of a book using the word window.”
That was the boat I rowed the weekend I was prompted to
write. And I had nothing and I was embarrassed I had nothing. And I think my
friend knew I had nothing for she added, “You can always email us something
later.”
An out. Sorta.
Two days after the trip, I sat at my computer with the TV
blaring in the background, thinking “I can do this.”
I did. Sorta. I wrote eight chapters.
And I was addicted. I kept going back and adding and
editing, etc. Finally, I grew brave and asked my friend to read it. She returned
the file to me and said, “Keep going.”
Awfully nice of her. LOL
So what if a girl is
pulled over by a cop?
What if parts are
missing from her new ride?
What if the cop is
someone she doesn’t recognize?
What if?????
Here’s a tease from my soon to be released funny, romantic
mystery, Temporarily Employed:
Pretty much covered the whole freakin’ day.
A blinding red-white, red-white strobe, reflected in my brand new Wrangler’s rearview mirror, seized my attention. The police. I tossed my hands skyward, ready to surrender. I shouldn’t have been too surprised. Like I'd commented this a.m. to my roommate, Jenny, “Today, anything’s possible.”
My Bad Day checklist included:
- Crappy job interview, one which might have provided desperately needed income.
- Wore gut-busting panty hose on a hot day which had now worked past my waist and strangled my diaphragm.
- A barely blowing air conditioner indicated something had malfunctioned in my new, fun car.
I stole another glance in the mirror, and with great reluctance, flipped the right turn indicator. My vehicle coasted to a stop on the shoulder of Boston Avenue in my hometown of Sommerville, a nice suburb located between two large cities. Four lanes of cars and trucks zipped by as I sat there where every single one of my family, friends, friends’ friends, and their friends—including Rat Fink Suzanne—would see a police vehicle positioned right behind mine. Gleefully, drivers would chant the “Ha-ha, got you, not me” ditty.
How embarrassing.
After killing the engine, I flopped back in the seat. Shooting the morons the finger was an idea. Nah. I'm too exhausted to care.
A litany of: "No, not hiring." "Just filled the position." "You're over qualified." "You're under qualified…" tornadoed through my head. Coupled with the intense job search through various outlets like the internet and completing numerous online employment applications, no wonder my body had been depleted of all life force.
Not even a breeze blew to take the edge off the unbearable summertime heat. Tangled wild trees and dry scrubby bushes banked the roadside. The grass had taken on a scorched look. Rolling down the driver’s window, I surveyed my surroundings. Nothing great. Nothing new.
I stole a glance in the side mirror at the policeman who strode purposefully along the shoulder. The gravel crunched under his boots. He looked huge, probably because his uniform, which appeared to be bulked with a bullet-proof vest, made him resemble a buffed-up superhero in size. Exceedingly intimidating.
Sigh. When things went wrong, they were really wrong.
As I viewed him drawing closer, my heart pounded harder. Awkward circumstances usually brought out the worst in me like shyness, ineptness, and uh...more shyness, hang-ups I carried from childhood. Back in the dark ages, I’d deliberately steered clear of embarrassing situations by developing the best self-protection— avoidance. Over time, I’d adapted to embarrassment, but every now and then, some unusual situation would spring out, and like a stealthy cat, those old prickly feelings crept back inside me.
The policeman stopped by the driver’s side, his head slanted to better peer inside.
Up close and exceptionally personal, I saw his sunglasses with dark lenses which shielded his eyes.
“Ma’am, I’m Officer Wellborn. I need to see your driver's license and proof of insurance—”
Something unknown possessed me. I bulldozed in and snapped in an overly loud voice, “What do you want? Why did you pull me over?”
His body stiffened like a package of frozen chocolate chip cookie dough.
How do you like my game? LOL What's your favorite?
Vicki Batman is greatly rejoicing for someone
took pity and liked her story so much, they wanted to publish it. With
diet Dr. Pepper next to her monitor, she is busy updating No. 2 story because
maybe they will like it too. Find updates about Temporarily Employed at: http://vickibatman.blogspot.com
8 comments:
Oh yeah - this is good, Vicki! Gotta get this one. Thanks for the excerpt.
Patti
Hi, Patti! and thank you. I've been so surprised and happy about what people are saying. Makes all the naysayers vanish. Hugs!
Excited about your coming soon release! Love the cover! Looking forward to reading it when it comes out. :) Congrats!!
Hi, Karilyn! and thank you. I can't wait. It's been such a labor of love. Hugs!
What a fun excerpt! I love that game! I wish I could play it and write down my answers. I always have wonderful stories in my head while driving and then I can't write them down!
Oh, what a fun game! I love it, and I love your set up for your story!
Hi, Melissa! I have been known to scribble on any paper I have at red lights. It is so hard when the game gets going. But I figure if I get just a bit, then my head might take off again. thanks for posting.
Hi, Lani! and this game works!!! Thank you regarding my story. I can't wait for all of you to see it.
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