I wonder how many times in a day someone utters the words, "I sure wish I was a fly on the wall? Would you like to know what's going on in that room?" What! You said it today ... that's great! Because we are about to have some sexy fun with a large family of flies. Not just any fly -- but with houseflies ... a whole bunch of them. In the beginning anyway, but the end of this yarn comes right down to the final day. That might be better stated if I just said -- "The END of the line.
It just so happens I was enjoying a football game last Sunday. Shit! I lied already, I was NOT enjoying the Cowboys getting the shit beat out of them (AGAIN!), when a not so common housefly landed on my left earlobe. The reason I say he was not a normal fly; he spoke to me. I, of course taken aback by his being so forward and all I tried to get him to leave me alone. Persistent little bugger he was, so I decided to let him alone. And he commenced to tell me this very strange tale of love gone awry.
If you take into account the lifespan of the average housefly at between fifteen and thirty days (depending on a whole shitload of out conditions), this story went through at least ... oh, shit! You figure it out while you're sitting on your throne some evening.
Jeffery, a hotel house fly is going to start our story. Oddly enough, the story didn't start here and now, his cousin, a couple hundred times removed is about to spill the beans on a really weird (not to mention crazy stupid), love story.
Now ... I will turn all this over to my new football watching friend, Jeffrey.
Well, hello to you all. I'm that talking fly, Jeffery. It's a story handed down one to another over the last twenty to maybe a hundred lifetimes (fly lifetimes). A story about a man, a woman, a marriage, and the results of how one couple can take direct action against the failure of the afore mentioned marriage ... or not.
As the story goes, it all started in college (the name of the school shall remain lost in time). The main male character is named, Samuel Wagner, whose family worked every hard to get their son through school. With the benefit of hard work in High School, Sam was able to get a scholarship that would pay most of the costs of his college.
Not wanting to be a burden to the folks, Sam decided NOT to join a fraternity, or for that matter anything that would take away time from getting his degree as quickly as possible. But what he did do was live in the dorms, and study, study, study.
To say his love life consisted of "Hanna, and her four sisters" is about the only thing you can say about how Sam kept his sanity. But keep his mind on the prize is what he did, and it paid off with the sought-after degree and, a free ride through his post grad studies. Sam was determined to be successful in his life and make his parents very proud.
Sam got an invitation to a get together for a night out, bar hopping, with a former roommate from his college days. As Sam was walking past a large mirror in the bathroom in his small yet adequate condo, he couldn't help noticing something he had paid little attention to ... his physical health and appearance.
Now, Sam knew that in order to be a success, you had to have a strong and very hot wife (often referred to as a "trophy wife"), gazing lovingly into his eyes. Maybe whenever they were out in public, she could carry on an intelligent conversation. But her sexy body would be more than enough. Anything in addition really wasn't that important, at least in Sam's eyes.
His first task was to get himself back to the strong virile, hunk of a guy that most women would die for (not literally). He understood hard work can have its own consequences, and not all of them were good.
That's where our story is turned over to my cousin. She's not the accomplished storyteller I am, but as far as flies go, she is a hot little number. She loves irritating the piss out of hot and sweaty folks at a nearby gym. She also might get me a shot at her best friend. (VAVAVOOM)!
Our new reporter seemed a little more than anxious to get started. "Okay, now you can buzz off, Bro, and let me tell the good folks the good part of this story. As a way of introduction, my name is, Jessica. It's not really important you know who I am, but I do kind of give a woman's view from inside the room."
Working in this gym was a young, hot and hungry gal from down the road near the tracks. She had a name plate screwed on to her locker in the employee's section of the gym. The name on the locker read "Sandy Collier, Assistant manager." Now, don't you go guessing she was the wrong gal for your buddy, Sam. She was a perfect candidate for the life of a hardworking, dedicated guy like, our hero. She had been a cheerleader in High School, and she even the was runner up to Homecoming Queen.
We'll get back to the Homecoming Queen a little later. Now let's get back to the runner-up.
The reason our heroin was living down by the tracks was the fault of good ole dad. He bet everything he could beg, borrow, and steal from the family, in order to buy in on the ground floor of a Dot-Com. That particular Dot-Com was a bright new penny one day, and two weeks later was nothing but butt wiping paper.
No matter what you think of Sam, he walked into this small inconspicuous gym down the block from this condo. He looked around for someone to help him and he saw, Sandy (our little Miss Runner-up), walking his way.
"Holy shit!" he thought. Then he remembered the reflection of himself in the mirror. That was the thing that started him on this journey. He immediately realized he didn't stand a chance with this hottie.
I'm sorry, but it was sad to see the pathic begging, Sam was throwing at this beauty. He had decided at first glance he wanted her to be his personal trainer. But it was not to be his day. Let's face it, she was the assistant manager. She did give him a tour of the facilities and recommended a very large muscle-bound, airhead named Justin Banks, to be his personal trainer. There was no getting around it, he was fighting a losing battle. And if my predecessor has told you anything, Sam does not take defeat lightly.
Every day he was at the gym early, stayed till the last minute before going to work. At this point in his life, his real job was to win over the heart of the beautiful, Sandy Collier. On the weekends he would be running, swimming, and doing all the things his nemesis, the ever present and always annoying, Justin, demanded. When he finally took the time to look at himself in that stupid mirror in his bathroom, he decided to cut Justin loose. He knew what he needed to do and how to get there.
Six and a half months later, Sam was coming through the door to take his almost nightly swim. Sandy was sitting in her office chair, her head down making notations on a legal size, yellow pad.
Sam walked into an empty gym. "What's going on?" he wondered. He dropped his bag on the floor next to the front desk and started slowly walking toward the office. "Sandy? What's going on, where is everybody?"
"Didn't you see the sign on the door? We're closed!"
When Sam told her there was no sign, Sandy lifted her head. Sam saw she had been crying. "The owner has to sell the gym because of a death in the family, and they won't accept the offer I was able to get financed."
"So, the gym will have new owners?"
"No, the lot the gym sits on is worth a ton of money. And there's no way we could match their offer."
"Who's we?" Sam asked her.
"Some of the staff wanted to save the place." She wiped an already soaking wet tissue across her face.
Do you know who the "they" are?"
Sandy looked up at our hero and shrugged her shoulders and raised her hands with palms up.
My reflexes got me the hell out of that room when Sandy picked up that flyswatter after spotting me on the rim of her teacup. From what I could see, Sam was trying to calm Sandy down by walking around the desk and offering her a shoulder to cry on. It wasn't long after that, Sandy tossed the pencil down and got up to leave. Since I'm a fly, I got trapped in the building, so my brother of another mother takes over the story from there.
Howdy folks from the peanut gallery. My name is also Geoffrey (several generations removed).
We lost track of our hero and heroine for several months, maybe even a year or two. But not to be denied, a cousin of mine discovered the gymnasium had been torn down. Strangely, the lot where the gym was located was empty. No one had done anything to use this (so called) valuable property.
That's where our story gets close to an end. I somehow ended up in the back end of a common garbage truck, feasting on a delicious piece of leftover hamburger.
It turns out that Sandy and Sam were up to their noses in a very unhappy marriage. We made this discovery when we noticed three people, Sam, Sandy and the Prom Queen (I knew she would get back into this story somehow), were seated at a quiet table, in the restaurant of the most expensive hotel in the city.
The Prom Queen was named Nicole DeAngelo. She had gone to a well-known Southern School to get a degree in Criminal Justice. She parlayed that into a Law Degree dealing with Family Law. In other words, she was a Divorce Lawyer. Probably the hottest you've ever seen.
She wore a huge billion-year-old piece of coal, on the ring finger of her left hand. She told her friends she wore it to keep the wolves at bay. But that ass, chest and face couldn't wear a ring, so she was constantly on the firing line with anything and almost everyone who took a breath, male and female.
After enjoying, what appeared, from my vantage point, to be a pleasant conversation, Samuel, stood from the table and said, "I think it's time to get this shit over with. Let's go to my room where we can talk in private."
It was at this point you could see the end was near. Sam had always been a gentleman, always. He would never let a woman, let alone his wife, pull her own chair from the table. This time he stepped to the side and told the waiter to send a bottle of the most expensive champagne to his suite.
This too was something abnormal for Sam. Sam had been a non-drinker all his life. Even on the occasions he joined his roommates in their party games. He always refused anything that contained alcohol. To Sam it was both personal and a requirement to keep his head clear for thought. His father was an alcoholic and Sam had witnessed firsthand what booze does to a person. Sam's father was a bad drunk and died early because of the addiction.
The next surprise of the night was stepping in the Penthouse elevator. Both women looked at each other with that "what the hell is going on?" look on their faces. Seconds later the door opened and the first look inside this penthouse took their breath away.
"I don't mean to be nosey, but I usually see you at the house almost every day, what is this?" the beautiful Sandy questioned, stepping into this paradise at close to the pinnacle of the city.
"You'll find out later." He paused a moment, "Now why don't you start," motioning for the two women to have a seat on an outrageously comfortable white sofa, facing a narrow glass top table. "Since you brought your Lawyer with you."
"Okay," she emptied her lungs and took the time to take in a deep breath. "You want to get right to it, so here goes." Another deep breath ... I think we should get a divorce. You know we've not been happy for over two years. You don't touch me, you don't ... oh, fuck it! We don't do anything like we did when we fell in love with each other."
With the ice broken. Sandy took a small stack of papers from the hand of her Lawyer and gently placed them in front of Sam.
