This morning for some reason a particular memory came to mind. No reason that it should show up again other than to put it here. So here goes.
Ah, road life, band houses, substitutes for things you don't have. You learn to improvise, adapt and get used to the lack of things that you would have at your own home for convenience. You either get used to it and stop whining or you become a pack mule to your own creature comforts. After two decades of road, you get sick of packing things around. Many band houses were equipped with the basic necessities, kitchens, bathrooms, beds, & televisions. It is the little things you had to bring along that come to mind this morning. If you packed right, things would not be wrinkled too badly, but if you are a girl & old school, you pack an iron anyway as not to look like a clean but wrinkled slob. Trouble is, those stupid little portable irons don't work for me. So I had a medium sized one that did a great job. Fit in its own safe spot & all was well. There is no practical way to justify packing an ironing board however. The little ones are just a pain in the ass like the travel irons, a waste of time for me. So, one learns to improvise. (Here is the Martha Stewart section of this post)… Take a corner of the bed, (or table), lay two towels on the bed. The bottom one should be dry & the top one damp. This helps with the steaming and the sticking to things that it shouldn't. It is a perfect set up and no pack mule effect. This is what I was doing that particular summer day.
It was early evening I just got out of the shower. Time to get ready for the gig. My other half Jets, was already dressed and laying by the cat, on the bed reading a book. Jets was reading, not the cat. (I believe the cat can read, but would rather be read to). I set up my makeshift ironing station. It was hot that day, the window was open, but the blinds were closed because there was not only no glass on the loverly band house window, but no screen either. However we did have privacy unless the wind came up. The room is cramped, things on top of each other, space was a luxury. So I proceed to iron my choice of garment for the evening. Remember me mentioning that I just got out of the shower? Well, I didn't get dressed yet, too hot to do it twice, and after all, we had privacy right! It was time to get dressed for the gig… do it once. So, setting the scene once again, Jets reading with the cat, me naked and ironing… typical married couple. All was well until……. The cat decided that he wanted some attention from me. So he comes up and sashays around me. I put the iron down and pet the cat. Here is where it starts to turn into something ugly. As I am putting the cat down, the iron falls over, not only does it fall over, but it falls to the floor, on my foot. I jump back, throw the cat safely far from the iron, I stumble during this act and fall backwards, my naked foot burned by the iron, I lose balance and as I fall backwards I'm thinking that I will land against the wall. WRONG. That damn window with no glass,(which was actually a good thing), or screen is behind me. I fall into the blinds. Now blinds are not that much support when you get a naked woman falling backwards into them and there is nothing between the one side of privacy and the outside world. I threw my arms out to my sides to catch my fall. My ass landed on the window sill, However my ass did find daylight as the rest of the blinds came crashing down on me.
The man mowing the lawn in the next yard had a strange visual to be sure. What does one do…. I waved. What else can ya do! Through all this, Jets looks up calmly and says, "you done messing around? It is about time to go".
One rattled cat, one burned foot, messed up and scattered blinds, bruised arm (don't know where that one came from), Section of wrinkled clothing that forgot to get ironed in the confusion. There you have it, a regular day. Put on a robe, calm the cat, bandage the foot, hang a sheet over the window until the blinds could be sorted out, and kick the husband with the newly bandaged foot. Alls well and time to hit the club, show time ;)
Moral of this story is, don't be a pack mule to your creature comforts, learn to improvise, but don't get careless. OR should it be…
If you are gonna pet your pussy, naked in front of an open window, don't multi task. You choose.
No comments:
Post a Comment