The Proxy

When James, Rena, and I prepared for our Road Trip to Nebraska, the men did some art work and sold it for gas money. This was like barn-raising. So far, so good. These were our happy days.

Wanda belonged to all kinds of groups, church groups, women’s groups, and James had learned a long time ago how to hit them up for money to advance one of his causes.

“This is Wanda’s oldest the son, the capable one, the go to guy when Wanda wants something done. He’s mommies little helper, the good son. What does he need now? Does he need funding for one of his wondrous projects. What? He’s saved a little orphan girl from a street gang and is having an art sale in order to reunite her with her grandmother. ”

After purchasing some more Bad Art, they put these new originals down in the basement storeroom with the others. Wanda bought my ‘Faceless Maiden’ walking through a mustard field. The Useless One, took a pencil and put a faint happy face on her, knowing his mother had poor vision. When he showed me this face, I bout peed my pants with laughter.

I could’t wait to see Rena behind the wheel, tearing across the plains towards home, and told her so.

“I don’t know how to drive.”
“What!!!”

Gone was my vision of Rena in blue-jean and T-shirt with the sleeves cut-off, she resting her tan arm on the window edge of the Dodge.

“James! We need a second driver. I can’t make it on my own all the way to Nebraska. Do you know someone that can drive a car.?”

“Oh. sure, my friend Robert can drive. He borrowed his mom’s car to go get some weed in Weed Town San Leandro. And, he’s an artist too. He can sell some of his paintings and put in for gas.”

“Great! Give him a call!”

James had taken me over to meet Bob six months earlier. His sister was an artist, too. Her and her brother were primitives and painted identical subject matter. There were roses galore because they were kindred to Franklin Delano Roosevelt. Santana had commissioned Robert to do an album cover for them. Robert put the band members on a cross covered in roses. They hated it, and refused to pay for it. They also refused to give the rosy cross back to the artist.

“What are you going to do with it?” Delano asked.
“We’re going to destroy it lest it appear somewhere and hurt our reputation. You made us look flowery and fruity. People associate us with Satan – not Saints!”

“Oh!”

This is Robert’s fifteen minutes of fame that should have been on the front page of the Inquirer

SANTANA DESTROYED MY MASTERPIECE

It was about 2:00 P.M. When I stopped for gas. Robert got in line behind me with a box of No-Doz.
“Didnt you buy a box two hours ago?” I asked Jame’s Proxy.
“No! That wasn’t me!”

When I opened the door to get in the back seat with Rena, she awoke, saw me, and tried crawl over the back of the seat to get away from me. That’s when I grabbed her. That’s when we had our four second fight that James and Robert did not miss, but, they quickly put it out of their mind because they could feel her heat, the sexy glow of a very beautiful goddess, whose hot body was now in contact with their body. They looked like they were creaming their pants.

Robert got behind the wheel, as I let fo a huge sigh. Alas, I can get some sleep. Then I heard the gears of the Dodge being stripped.

“Robert! What are you doing?”
“I can’t get the car into drive. This is not like my mom’s car.”

I mulled that one over, and said;

“Are you saying your mom’s car is an automatic, and you do not know how to drive a stick?”
“Yeah, I guess!”

I jumped out of the car, opened the driver’s door as Rena jumped in the back seat.

“Move over!”

Robert didn’t even bother to look at what I did next. He was looking in the back for his goddess, he getting a good look at the shape of her perfect ass as she fled from me again.

I shot James’ a hard glance, and he let go one of his infamous

“Wshdtuodmedhsefordat!”

Anyone who got close to James has heard his infamous speech that goes like this.

“You should have known better than to ask me to do anything. You know I am a complete incompetent. You know I will never do anything right, especially after you force me to do something. If I did, then you might ask me to do some more stuff that I don’t want to do.”

Rena perked up to hear this, because as an Aries, she was more direct. James was a Libra like myself, and he had invented this perfect Aries’Libra argument to make sure he always got his way.

I thought about making the Bad Proxy Argument.

“At least you could have gotten us someone who could drive in your stead – a real proxy. Then I heard;

“What do you mean “we” you’re the only one who wanted a driver to help you drive. Try taking some responcibility here. Rena and I are perfectly happy with Robert’s driving. You’re the only one who has a problem with it.”

But…..James. Robert can’t get us down the road…..ONE FUCKING FOOT!

I’ve seen folks go after James with intent to do some serious bodily harm after he delivers one of his utterly absurd excuses that are right out of Alice Thru The looking Glass’

I put the Dodge in first, and punched it. I left a little trickle of oil in our wake. My plan was to get to the summit and have the designated Proxy coast down the mountain as if he was in a soap box racer. How about a little red wagon.

Jon Presco

Copyright 2013