The Babuskha had not left her room for many days. Two nights after the sudden disappearance of her beloved Blarney, she received a heartbreaking break-up text from Enrique.
Life could not get any worse. Babuskha could not fathom what she had done wrong.
"He's obviously gay," sulked the Babushka.
For the next week she reviewed dating websites. Eharmony, Zoosk, Match.com. No results. She needed someone spicy. Someone exotic.
The Babuskha decided to go clubbing.
She pulled the fishnet tights up and above her wrinkled cellulite-dented knees.
She slipped her bunioned, fat foot into a size 9 shiny gold stiletto.
She dabbed a bit of coverup on top of the hairy mole under her left nostril and smacked her pasty red lips.
The Babushka stepped out of the squeaky doors to Watershed Heights and entered into the world of men.
There was a spring in his step as he made his way down Main Street, arriving at the gates of Gilbert's Carnival the same time as a bag lady who looked to be from the Old Country.
ReplyDelete"Oy. Kushnik," he hissed. "Let me in front of you."
The one-eyed ticket vendor blinked, slowly.
The Kushnik spat on the ground in front of Blanket Cobb's left foot.
"I Spit on your Children," she cursed, then scuttled through the gates and was swallowed up by the crowd.
"How peculiar," Cobb thought to himself, but he was not worried. He had no children.