iwillserveu
Posts: 1633
Joined: 1/1/2004
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My trip to see Lady Beckett. Even though this is my story, I’ll clear it with M’Lady just in case. This account may be bowdlerized.
It was $189 roundtrip to fly into Nashville, but that is a 5-hour drive. A puddle jumper cost about $200 one-way. Greyhound got a block away for $138. Problem was it was a bus.
I left on Thursday. Took the bus to Providence, then New York on Bonanza. In New York I was going to get the 7:30pm to Richmond, VA. (It also went o Atlanta, Charlotte, Baltimore, and others I did not care about.) When I was standing in line I found out they had a problem. People were in line waiting in line since the bus a some am time. When the bus was full they stopped taking passengers and 98% of the people left.
I’m not an idiot. I stayed in line. As we neared the time for the 9:15pm buss the crowd came back. The line was longer than the bus capacity of 52, but I was fifth. I heard the woman complaining about how they were waiting since 9:30am or something while I was seated on a crowded bus. What’s more I got the good handicapped seats. (Yeth, I’m hanicappe.:) No, I’m not drunk.)
To make it longer than usual some state is working on I95. The bus driver was good, but back roads are back roads for a reason.
About 3am I get the bus eventually going to Bristol TN then on to Johnson City then to Greenville. Lucky for me it was the same bus. Still I was behind schedule because of NY. I’d call and warn Lady Beckett, but maybe I should wait until sunrise.
When I get on the bus at some stop I decide to call her. Then the driver announces how he is behind and will leave anyone not back on the bus behind for the next bus. That scares me to staying on the bus.
When I get to Greeneville it is about 5:30pm on Friday. I was supposed to around 4:10pm on Friday. When I arrive I try calling. The one second I try to call is the one second Lady Beckett is on the phone telling some she does not want to be rude but does not want to tie up the line. I make the other calls I must make (“Yes, Mom, I’m alive. I’m 37 and not a baby. Yes, I know it was a hard labor 37 years ago. Yes, I’m sorry about those twelve hours. No, Mom, my underwear is probably not clean because I had to sleep in my clothes. Yes, I love you, Mom. Bye. Yes, Dad, I’ll be rooting for the Red Sox. No you don’t have to put Mom back on the ... Hi, Mom, Yes, I love you too. Bye. What did the doctor say? I’m sure he’s right about it clearing up. Yes, I love you too ,Mom. Bye. OK, bye. Yes, I’ll call as soon as I get back. Mom, I’m 37. I love you too. Bye now. Yes, Bye. Yup, bye. Uh huh, bye. Yup, bye. Bye. I love you too. Bye, Yes, uh huh, Yes. Can you put Dad on? Dad? Don’t put Mom back on. Say ‘yes’ then hang up OK? Thanks Dad. Bye.”:))
When I walked the block to her house the first thing I had to do was e-mail Gloria I was there. M’Lady panicked when I didn’t show and thought maybe I chickened out and didn’t call her. Then I crapped, showered, and shaved. (Hey, I challenge anyone to sit on those toilet seats in bus terminals.:)) M’Lady is up quite a bit at night and often does not use her bed.
On Saturday I awoke unmolested (Darn!).
Modesty forbids divulging much beyond ironing and dishwashing. (I won’t even tell of the lawn mower maintenance except to say she laughed at my bringing my Swiss Army-like pliers.)
On Sunday I awoke unmolested. (Darn!)
Modesty forbids divulging much beyond ironing and dishwashing. (I won’t even tell of the lawn mower maintenance except to say she laughed at my bringing my Swiss Army-like pliers.)
We had breakfast and took a long drive out to her friend’s farm. Before you think this where the kinky stuff starts, we came with her daughter, her grand daughter, her dog, and her teenage friend.
When we got there I was given the option of going to the “boys club” or staying with the women. It is not the insult of the century, but having my manhood questioned, even though I have serious balance issues ensured I would go with the guys. What they don’t know is I can lift hay or whatever as long I don’t fall down.
Unfortunately it wasn’t back breaking labor. They had just gotten the farm, so it was generating ideas. When we got to the barn I thought we’d bale hay or some farm thing.
Instead we talked about converting part of the loft into an office and make it comfortable enough to “hang” but not good enough to attract the wife. My contribution about the big screen TV and satellite dish fit in with secret entrance for the pizza delivery guy and the fire pole.
I guess that was better than the talk of wallpapers, (Who will see that behind the big screen TV?:)) but it was harder on my knees. I should have wore my jeans not my shorts.
The only BDSMish element was the band-aid on my hairy knee.
I did get to use my Swiss army-style pliers for the second time. (And M’Lady laughed, yeah verily laughed, when I insisted on packing them. :P)
When we left the teenager left to visit her boyfriends grandmother. We waited for the grand daughter’s parents to pick her up. I admit I was really happy at the notion of being alone, finally. M’Lady had the four year-old girl tak off the band-aid. She told her quickly. It was pretty quick on a geologic scale. “Like this, Granma?” “Yes dear you are doing fine, do it quickly. Don’t stop.” “All the way off?” “Yes, all the way off.” “Does he have a boo-boo?” “Yes he does. Now help him take off that one, quickly now.” “Is this fast, Granma?” (etc.)
OK, you Sadist, I admit I’m a whimp.
Anyway, long story short, her parents don’t arrive at the 7-7:30 time we were expecting. They were watching Wallace and Grommet on DVD when I went to bed around ten. (One guess who got that for M’Lady’s grand daughter when M’Lady said she had never heard of them before.)
On Monday I awoke unmolested. (Darn!)
Modesty forbids divulging much beyond ironing and dishwashing. (I won’t even tell of the lawn mower maintenance except to say she laughed at my bringing my Swiss Army-like pliers.) Then her and her grand daughter walked me to the bus station and I left. (The four year old was the best walker among us.)
The bus ride back featured the fat, farting black guy whose head rested on my shoulder as he slept from Richmond to Baltimore to New York.
Back home my car horn now works. (The mechanic doing the inspection said it could be fixed for $239: it cost me $25.)
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When the Lady smiles i can't resist her call. As a matter of fact, i don't resist at all. Well that depends if it is a smile or a grimmace.
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