Wednesday, April 11, 2007
Cameo 'Emotional Violence'
Being a godfather has its perks…
For Easter, I got a card and a jar filled with E&E’s from my goddaughter and niece Gracie.
You don’t know what E&E’s are?
When I was a kid, I discovered that when you turn m&m’s sideways… The “m’s” look like capital “E’s”. Since my name starts with the letter “E”, I started calling m&m’s “E&E’s”.
It was a private little thing where only a handful of folks were privileged to know. Hell, my closest family members probably don’t even remember me calling the candies “E&E’s”. I haven’t thought about it in years until I reached into the jar for a small handful the day before Easter.
My niece Chloe was visiting with me that day and I asked if she would like some of my E&E’s. She said no.
I asked if she were sure that she didn’t want any because they’re sweet, tasty, and made of chocolate. She finally came around and took some E & E’s from me. When she inspected them, she had a perplexed look on her face and said, “Unka Gene? These are m&m’s.”
“No they’re not, Chloe…” I said with a calm voice. “They are E&E’s.”
Standing by her convictions and her 3-year-old knowledge of the alphabet she said, “Unka Gene… They have m’s on them.” She offered one to me as proof.
I showed her the same piece of candy, but turned it sideways to show her that the “m” was in fact an “E”. And without further conversation, she took it from my hand and ate it.
I don’t think she bought it.
Last Saturday, I worked a wedding reception with Coup Delicious (AKA Chris Fletcher) to make a little extra scratch. I’ve said it before and I’m saying it again… Real wedding receptions are not teeming with single and available women as seen in popular films such as Wedding Crashers. So when I go to these events, I don’t even bother checking out the scene. There’s just no point because even if there are single ladies there, they’re usually paired up with a boyfriend.
But this past Saturday, a particular woman caught my eye during the bouquet toss… A woman who bore a resemblance to Hollywood’s Drew Barrymore. She was a little chunkier than the real Drew and I couldn’t help the fact that I was constantly looking at her.
Because quite frankly… In my book, Drew Barrymore is the “bees knees”. There’s just something about her looks and personality that cause me lustful thoughts. Thoughts so depraved that I cannot and will not look at footage of her as a child.
E.T.? Can’t watch it. Firestarter? No way I’m seeing that again. Cat’s Eye? I tried watching that one a couple of weeks ago on the Chiller Channel, but every time they showed the young Drew I had to cover my eyes and recite the Lord‘s Prayer.
I don’t want to see a cute little Drew when I have nothing but immoral thoughts about the delectable adult Drew. It’s just not natural! It’s sick! And when I see the young Drew, I recoil like a vampire that has a cross shoved into its face.
So imagine my astonishment when I saw this healthy adult Drew look-alike within 500 feet and no court ordered encumbrances. I pointed her out to Coup Delicious… “Dude… You’re whack! She don’t look nuthin’ like Drew Barrymore. She’s too chunky.”
He was wrong about her not looking like Drew, but not about the chunky. It was a damn good kind of chunky. The kind that produced ample breasts that almost spilled out every time she bent down during the “Electric Slide”. And every time she bent over to adjust her shoe, I had to slap a table.
I was working and I couldn’t just venture over to chat with her… Damn. But as the contracted minutes kept clicking away, I had to get things into order for a quick exit. And that’s when I finally came face to face with faux Drew.
I said, “Hi. How ya doing? I’m Eugene… One of the DJ’s working tonight and I’m licensed to drive motor vehicles.”
She simply said “Hi”.
She gave me no name, pressed a button on her cell phone, put it to her ear, and brushed me aside to get into the elevator. It was something that I can easily imagine the real Drew doing.