SoCS — Coffee, Tea, or Me?

28A0A1DF-C70D-4FFE-AF74-F4F733C9C601James sat himself down on a stool at the bar and said to the woman sitting on the stool next to him, “What’s a fine woman like you doing in a place like this?”

Without bothering to turn her head and to look at James, who reeked of alcohol, Pam said, “I work here.”

James was surprised. “You work here? Like at this bar?”

“No,” she said, “not at this bar. At this airport.”

“Oh,” he said. “At a ticket counter?”

“No, not at a ticket counter. On an airplane,” she said.

“So you’re like a stewardess,” he said, a lecherous smile gracing his face. “You’re one of them coffee, tea, or me gals, huh?”

For the first time since he sat down, Pam looked at him. “No, I’m not a flight attendant,” she said. “I’m a pilot.”

“A pilot? Really?” James said. “You fly one of them little puddle-jumper planes, huh?”

“No, not a commuter plane,” Pam said. “I am a pilot on a large jet, actually.”

“Yeah right,” James laughed. “And I’m the CEO of Microsoft.” He reached out and placed his hand over hers. “Listen, pretty lady, my flight out tonight has been cancelled due to bad weather, so how about we spend some time together, you and me? I don’t want any coffee or tea, but I sure would like to get a taste of you.”

The man sitting on the other side of Pam stood up and walked over to where James was sitting. “Listen, pal,” he said to James, “The woman you’re talking to is Captain Pamela Schaefer and she is the pilot of a Boeing 737 Max jet aircraft.”

“Well whoop-de-do,” James said. “And who the fuck are you, buckaroo?”

“Me?” the man said. “My name is John Schaefer. I’m an astronaut and I also happen to be her husband. So yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker, you’d best take wing before I put you in orbit.”


Written for this week’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt from Linda G. Hill. Our assignment is to use “coffee, tea, or me” in our post or to find a flirty phrase of our own.

SoCS — Catching Some Z’s

716CB467-3F46-4C2F-9398-D7AE99E36193“Great news,” Dan said, “I scored two mezzanine tickets to tonight’s jazz concert. This guy will absolutely dazzle you. He really makes that saxophone sizzle.”

“Oh wow,” Mack said. “I’ve heard all of the buzz about this guy. He’s still got a lot of pizazz for a guy who’s been around as long as he has. Count me in, buddy.”

“Terrific,” Dan said. “The show starts in an hour and a half, but I’m so hungry that I’m starting to feel a little dizzy. How about we grab something to eat before we head to the venue?”

“Great idea,” Mack said. “I know of a fantastic pizza place downtown. They have these delicious artisan pies and they don’t spare the mozzarella.”

After the two men finished eating, it had started to drizzle, so they walked briskly to the theater where the show was being held. But they were surprised when they got there to see a sign indicating that the performance had been cancelled. They gave each other a puzzled look and noticed a guy sitting at the ticket counter. “Why did tonight’s show get cancelled?” Dan asked him.

The guy shrugged. “I don’t know, dude,” he said. “All of a sudden the fuzz showed up and the next thing you know they’ve got this grizzly looking guy in handcuffs and they’re hauling him out of the building. He was really in a tizzy, yelling and screaming no matter how hard the cops tried to muzzle him.”

“That sounds awful, but what does that have to do with the show being cancelled?” Mack asked.

“Turns out,” the guy answered, “the old coot is the theater’s accountant and he was apparently embezzling a lot of money, so the venue has to shut down. And, unfortunately, because of that, I can’t give you your money back. Sorry, dudes.”

“Well, this night certainly fizzled out,” Dan said.

“No worries,” Mack said. “Anyway, I’m kinda frazzled and tired tonight. I think I’ll just head home and catch some Z’s. We’ll talk tomorrow.”


Written for Linda G. Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday, where the prompt is “zz” and we are asked to “find a word with double-z in it and use it in your post.

SoCS — If I Had a Hammer

CEF64AA8-91DF-48CA-ADCE-80520CC8787B“Hey, do you remember that old Pete Seeger song?” Harry asked.

“Which one?” Ben asked.

“The one,” Harry said, “that goes, ‘If I had a hammer, I’d hammer in the morning / I’d hammer in the evening, all over this land / I’d hammer out danger, I’d hammer out a warning / I’d hammer out love between my brothers and my sisters all over this land.’”

“No,” Ben responded, “but it reminds me of that old saying, ‘When all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail.’”

“Well,” Harry said, “As that Simon & Garfunkel song goes, ‘I’d rather be a hammer than I nail. Yes I would, if I only could, I surely would.’”

“You know,” Ben said, “I think you hit the nail on the head with that one, my friend.”

“Yup,” Harry proudly said. “I really nailed it, if I do say so myself.”

“I don’t know, buddy,” Ben said. “Sometimes I feel like talking to you is like trying to nail jello to a wall.”

“Oh yeah?” Harry angrily said. “Sometimes talking to you is hard as nails.”

“Hey, why don’t you just go ahead an put another nail in my coffin,” Ben said.

“Well,” Harry said, “I feel like I have to fight tooth and nail with you just to get a word in edgewise.”

“Is that right?” Ben said. “Let me tell you something, Harry. Spending time with you is like sleeping on a bed of nails.”

“You think so?” replied Harry. “I want to nail down this one thing. Sometimes I get so mad at you it makes me want to spit nails.”

“Okay, Harry, let’s stop,” Ben said. “We’re best friends. Let’s quit arguing and see if we can set aside our differences and hammer things out together like two pals.” Then Ben put out his hand for Harry to shake.

Harry smiled, shook Ben’s hand, and said, “Speaking about hammering things out, do you remember that old Pete Seeger song?”

“Which one?” Ben asked.


Written for today’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt from Linda G. Hill, where we are to use the word “nail” as a noun or a verb.

SoCS — Fancy That

7FEF9A62-4DAF-4CD8-8CD4-2FAAF7D82E97“What’s that smell?” Mike asked his mother as he walked into the kitchen.

Fantastic, isn’t it?” his mother said. “I’m cooking liver and onions for dinner.”

“Ew,” Mike said, “I’m not a fan of liver and onions. Will you please turn on the goddam exhaust fan over the stove to get that odor outta here?”

“Michael,” his mother said, “I don’t appreciate it when you use profanity around me.”

“Oh Ma, stop being such a fanatic about a little cursing,” Mike said. “You and dad curse at each other all the time when you’re having one of you frequent fights.”

“Married couples fight, Michael,” she said. “Grown ups don’t live in some fantasy world where no one ever fights. Stop being so infantile.”

“Infantile?” Mike said, laughing. “Where did you learn such a fancy word?”

Now it was his mother’s turn to laugh. “You better watch yourself, young man,” she said, “before I take you over my knee and spank you until your fanny turns bright red. Now be a dear boy, Michael, and bring your mother that bottle of Zinfandel over there.”

“Yes, mother,” Mike said.


Fandango has written this bit of silliness for Linda G. Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday, where we are tasked with using the word “fan” by itself or finding a word that starts or ends with it.

SoCS — Spaying, Spraying, and Splaying

“The vet said we need to bring our cat in this week to have her neutered,” Molly told her husband.

Bill did a spit-take and let the coffee he was sipping spray all over the kitchen table. “Then the vet has to come to our place and do it,” he said.

Molly looked at Bill like he was crazy. “Oh for crissake, Bill,” she said. “You know that veterinarians don’t make house calls in order to spay cats at people’s homes. You need to bring the cat to the animal hospital for that.” Then she handed him a paper towel and told him to clean up the mess he made on the table.

Bill grabbed the paper towel and dabbed up the coffee. “Well then, you’re going to have to get her in the damn cat carrier,” he responded. “Whenever I would try to cram her into her carrier, she would splay her four paws wide and I never was able to get her in it.”83800A0C-0CFE-4F04-85A9-56532446CFB0Written for today’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday prompt from Linda G. Hill. Our task was to write a post using “spay,” “spray,” and/or “spray” in it. Done, done, and done.