LIFE’S RICH PAGEANT PUTS LEAD IN PENCIL……sadly zuki has no one to write to

little-bearGood Morning Children of Immolation,

On a happier note it seems ‘life’s rich pageant’ has seen fit to smile on ole zuki and improve my lot. I’ve picked up a couple of decent paychecks with future prospects looking good. I had forgotten what it’s like to actually have folding money and a full tank of gas. This did wonders for my self-esteem and quickly determined to seek female relief for my libido suffering in a state of velleity. I (and forgive me Leland) stayed out of Blondie’s this last Saturday knowing it may come down to closing the ‘Little Bear’ to accomplish my objective.

Armed with my never-fail shtick and a few shekels I made the trip up the mountain.

For those of you not familiar with the ‘Little Bear’ it’s one of those landmark places that have hosted big name bands but is a small venue by any comparison. The old bar hasn’t changed in 40 years with everyone’s initials carved in the old wooden infrastructure and bras tossed over the rafters.

It tends to be patronized by locals (ex-hippies) and old school Blues aficionados convinced they know everything. Consequently most of the patrons tend to be closer to my age than most places. It’s a great bar. However, once you commit to seeking coitus versus one handed porn surfing you must go all the way.

The downhill controlled slide of Morrison Canyon is 15 miles of switchbacks and hairpin turns that require ones complete attention! Closing down the bar and running the gauntlet is a high-risk endeavor wrought with dangers of death, or worse, arrest. I was committed to do this thing.

After paying the cover charge I found it was too late to snag a table, but did find an open spot at the bar next to the small dance floor. This was not bad. I was treated to the music of ‘Homeslice’ a hard-driving blues band with dueling harmonicas. They covered the classics with a few original songs thrown in so they could claim to be artists. The advantage of my particular perch is that everyone had to pass by while on their way to and from the dance floor giving me a good look at potential partners.

Dancing with a half dozen prospects and my shtick serving no purpose I was now into the third and final set and hadn’t closed the deal. I was thinking I should cut my losses and begin the dreaded gauntlet when Sherri (earlier dance partner) returned to ask me to dance. She had arrived with her friend set up on a blind date that evidently was going badly.

They were about to leave so while on the dance floor she slipped me a business card with her cell number and asked me to call her in 45 minutes giving her a chance to politely dump her date! EXCELLENT!

45 minutes to the second I called Sherri who picked up after the first ring. I was relieved because ‘last call’ had been announced and people were filing out. Sherri lives in Ketring about 6 miles down the canyon and said she couldn’t wait to see me. Words can’t describe the anticipation and excitement I felt as it’s been a bit of a dry spell for ole zuki.

She lived in a small home she’d inherited from her parents close enough to Bear Creek you could hear the water while walking to the front door. Sherri answered dressed in nothing but a terrycloth robe holding two glasses of wine. We sat on the couch talking and partaking of accoutrements suitable for the occasion.

The conversation was light and easy avoiding the usual deal breakers, yet as if on cue, the top of her robe worked itself open with ample view of her 36-D’s. They begged to be suckled. Oh my God we almost inhaled each other given the urgency of our first kiss. Subsequently my tent was not lost on my hostess and it was ‘game on’ as she grabbed my ‘Johnson’ leading me to her bedroom.

Getting up to fresh brewed coffee and the smell of bacon, (not a pig reference) Sherri pointed to the shower and promised me a first class breakfast if I used it. Who could argue with that? She was certainly not a ‘10’ but nonetheless attractive. I couldn’t believe how my fortunes had changed in just a few weeks, because not only did I have flapjacks with bacon and eggs, but we did it again!

It may have been the best 90 seconds in recent memory!