Sunday, March 15, 2015
Identity
Glurtzmans
I settle on doing one flamboyant thing a day...
then, lose interest...so, a week.
Buy a Hawaiian shirt, garish Flame-Motif!
Go back a bit. Meet this couple on the beach at the Surfing
Competition, and they scream, “Dr Glurtzman!”
“No,” answers yours truly. But, they insist, and I tire of
informing them otherwise.
I gather he taught at Nicolet College. Physics. And very
demonstrative. Acting out Einstein, Heisenberg, Planck.
Well, good for him!
I missed my chances to be demonstrative, and thus turned
Church Mouse.
I google him later, but have the gist already.
Don’t worry. I didn’t become him, but did plan to add a bit
of unpredictability, flair. Thus the shirt.
Which I wore to the Presbyterian Rummage Sale. Confiding to
Jill-Ann that I should sit on a table and be bought.
She said she’d put in a bid now. Well, the silly talk that goes
on at such events!
I plunged then, though! Inviting her for coffee after the half-day Sunday. Right after Reverend Andony will show up and stress that he wants all the crap out of the hall. We’ll throw it in closets alongside biblical displays: under the
stage cubbies, it’s all Loaves and Fishes.
While I wait outside for Jill-Ann to freshen up, Dr Glurtzman shows! He isn’t the real one either, but informs me. “The old boy’s dead, entertaining St Peter and the Gang with the one that Heisenburg forgot his socks for the Nobel. It’s...important that he stay dead--if you catch my drift.”
He killed him? For the insurance? And now pretends to BE him?
Then he says “I’ll buy that shirt right off your back!”
But I’m too shook to answer. Too much for me, and I gush
It was a one-time thing, my briefly letting some inane
youngsters persist in believing I’M Dr Glurtzman!
Long story short, Jill-Ann and I marry.
And what a cramp in the balls she turns out to be!
I worry that the other phony Dr Glurtzman will return
to murder me!
But that’s in the Period of Adjustment right after strangling
on the knot.
All kinds of shit went down then!
Upshot? Dr Glurtzman as Peter Destiny Hasolastern, nabbed
in a terminally seedy Lauderdale motel room with a fourteen year
old girl.
So bye-de-bye, Insanely Violent Death. You can say what you
want about marriage, but it’s preferable.
Labels: con man, identity, Lauderdale, murder, role-playing, sex, surfing, underage sex
