PBax's Prompt Work - 4. Prompt February 2023

Prompt February 2023

“Looks like we are in for six more weeks,” Jesus said as he leaned over to Doug.

“I already have sand in my shoes and we haven't even been to the beach, Jesus. How does that happen? It's everywhere. Hot and stuffy in here. The shocks on this bus feel older than us combined. Is there a bar in the back?” Doug barely took a moment to catch his breath. “Six more weeks? We both know differently. Look at the date, Jesus. I pinched this out from the seat pouch in front of us. This newspaper is almost a month old. Fuck that hamster.”

“How long have I known you?” Jesus asked Doug while fixing him with his imperturbable, gentle eyes.

“Not including the six months I spent alone while you were playing recluse, finding yourself with the Buddhists...or in total?”

“Total, including the six months I left you alone while I was cavorting with the monks,” Jesus said.

“In total, then that would be, let me see...” feigning mental math across his fingertips, Doug finally said, “I believe that makes something in the vicinity of just about 25 years.”

“And how old are we now, Doug. 50. Fifty exactly yesterday. Or as you prefer, something in the vicinity of just about. We’re older. But how will we age our spirits? Do we need to be burnt toast? If you want to be crusty, be apple pie. But don’t be burnt toast.” Jesus grinned with a chuckle. This conversation had started months ago and had no real ending in sight. Fifty had hit hard and Doug was susceptible to slumps of grumpiness.

Jesus put his hand on Doug’s forearm and began to give him a calming pat. “Do you remember the first words you said to me, Doug?”

“I’m going to convince that lifeguard he needs me to blow him. He needs me to blow him,” said Doug.

And what did I say? “You said he looked like he was hung like the size of a coatis tail. Give you something long and ringed and you and your never happened high school fantasy of all the cheerleaders group-blowing the baseball team never amazes me. You and your rainbow party…”

Never mind, Jesus said with a quick hold on Doug’s arm “What did we do after that?”

“After I asked you what the hell were you talking about something tails?”

“Yes, after that. What did we do, Doug?”

“We ordered margaritas, discovered we were both having our same birthday, and spent hours drinking and laughing and scheming to get the lifeguard back to my room.” Doug fell quiet and started to breathe calmly for the first time since he’d gotten on the bus.

Jesus whispered, closely by Doug, as if it mattered if anyone could hear or would care and said, “And what happened when the lifeguard got off work?”

“We took that lifeguard back to my room and ravaged that man till he was nothing but a quiver of a gasp, drained and dazed.”

“That’s right, Doug,” Jesus, said “That’s right. I’ll never forget it. And neither will you. Meeting you that day, and that tasty lifeguard, was a great day. And we’ve been having fun together for 25 years. We still have fun together. We’re not 25 anymore. So what. We’re 50. To hell with it. We’re on this bus--yes, not the VIP version of a bus, which is apparently on the side of a road with a flat--we’re on this bus all of a few minutes and you’ve got to get irritated. Quit. This bus isn’t the whole trip. Did we come down here to look at the newspaper on a bus? Of course not. Sand and surf. Whole beautiful resort and casino, restaurants and entertainment, and I’m sure there will be some lifeguards. And I tell you something else. You need to either fall in love with this bus or get us a limo for the trip back to the airport. No third option.”

“What the… well, shit...” Doug muttered as he fumbled around trying to get the newspaper back in the seat pouch.

“What is it, Doug?” Jesus said. “We are almost there, I’m certain. Did you see the legs on that cyclist we just passed?”

“Look!” said Doug as he pulled open the seat pouch and gestured for Jesus to look in. “Someone’s wig is stuffed in here!”

Jesus just beamed ear to ear until Doug started laughing and Jesus joined in. Suddenly Doug stopped and looked seriously at Jesus and said, “I wonder if the wig was left on the way in or on the way out?”

“What happens in Puerto Vallarta, I guess,” Jesus said “but that doesn’t look like some Mardi Gras disposable, that’s expensive.”

“Since when do you think you know anything about wigs?”

“I had trouble sleeping the other night and they were hawking wigs on QVC. Did you know…”

“Oh my god,” Doug interjected. “If I want to know something about wigs I’ll ask someone who knows what they’re talking about. Like a drag queen. Was RuPaul doing a guest spot for wigs on QVC?”

“Oh look, we’re here!”