Monday, July 20, 2015
Town Slice
Jenn-Ann slept in a inverted cowgirl hat. Concrete,
from a Hart Hiffley rodeo display.
The last thing her father had done was to wrestle
it to the top floor of the warehouse, and build a metal
ladder up its side.
Then he exited forever. The rest of the warehouse
he had designated for some business purpose
she and her mother never found out.
The bank took over and rented it to the mother as an
apartment. All wrong from the zoning viewpoint, but was
an age of municipal winking.
She sublet the first two floors to what Jenn-Ann called
The Church of The Nifty Nazarine.
Which the women joined, though it put their rights back
a century or so.
When Jenn-Ann finished her online survey for the church,
she was informed that her cat, Hobart Grimshaw the Third,
must be renamed for a female. Thus defusing her joke that she
slept up there with Hobart.
She ignored this eccleastical stricture, but called him Third thereafter. And “The Church of the Demented Nazarine.”
Her mother was all for getting along with the pastor, Carlos Nutley,
but Jenn-Ann eventually declared war.
Never materialized, since Carlos couldn't make the nut of the rent
after six months, so the women evicted him.
“And his scab-ass collection of criminals!” Jenn-Ann added,
not caring for the parishioners she had met.
Buzz Alderson has moved in with his operation making
boat cushions.
He has taken a shine to Jenn-Ann, and regularly comes up
with treats for Third.
It's no use pointing out to him that his age is more appropriate
to the mother.
He, in turn, has leased part of his floorspace to what
Jenn-Ann calls the Church of Jesus Hip Hop.
Third has migrated thence, enticed with fish bits to
stay for his spiritual attributes.
Jenn-Ann and Buzz will marry there, and sleep in the hat
together.
“It’s the personal-industrial complex!” she will wisecrack.
Labels: Church, entrepreneur, holy rollers, Romance, sex, zoning
