| Author | Thread |
|
|
04/09/2006 07:21:56 PM · #1 |
Copied from infinitely pie: If you read this. If your eyes are passing over this right now (even if we donĂ¢€™t speak often or donĂ¢€™t even know each other), your job, your mission, nay - your new goal in life is to post a comment with a COMPLETELY MADE UP AND FICTIONAL memory of you and me.
It can be anything you want - good or bad. It can be about that time when I spent the night with you in a South American jail because you got drunk and tried to pick up on a cop. Or it could be about that night that felt like half a forever ago when you and I hopped on railroad cars and rode clear across Kentucky. Or maybe our Ducati road tripping adventure ... BUT IT HAS TO BE FAKE.
Come on ... share your memories!
Message edited by author 2006-04-09 19:33:04. |
|
|
|
04/09/2006 08:03:58 PM · #2 |
a long long time ago, when riding 'busses' was cheap way to cross country
i shared my life story {all the little bits & nasty stories} (and recieved one in turn) with a women knowing full well that i would never see her again - nor she me ..
it was easier then - no internet, no search engines - you could lay everything bare with a stranger and know you would only end up as an anecdote in her life
scary thought - 30 yrs ago...
Message edited by author 2006-04-09 20:04:36. |
|
|
|
04/09/2006 08:43:36 PM · #3 |
Originally posted by ralphnev:
a long long time ago, when riding 'busses' was cheap way to cross country
i shared my life story {all the little bits & nasty stories} (and recieved one in turn) with a women knowing full well that i would never see her again - nor she me ..
it was easier then - no internet, no search engines - you could lay everything bare with a stranger and know you would only end up as an anecdote in her life
scary thought - 30 yrs ago... |
Outstanding ... who's next! |
|
|
|
04/09/2006 08:50:03 PM · #4 |
Ah, come on Charles. It doesn't have to be fictional does it?
I was going to tell everyone about the diving incident of '87. You'd invited us over for the weekend, August I think it was, pretty hot as far as I remember, but perfect for scuba!
So we headed off in your car over to Puget Sound. You'd dived there a few times, but it was a first for me.
Everything went fine for the first hour or so. But then I spotted the largest octopus I'd ever seen - Right behind you! You spun around and totally freaked out. That was probably the most frightening scuba experience I've ever had. |
|
|
|
04/09/2006 09:11:03 PM · #5 |
Well, I remember back in the 80's, when Charles and I were serving together in the Navy. We were in port in Toulon, France. Toulon has one of the best 'guts' in the mediterranean (gut=seedy parts of town present in most port cities, comprised primarily of bars and cathouses). So we had knocked off work early and Charles and I, and a couple of other buddies were sitting in this bar having a beer. Early afternoon, so not a whole lot of people in there yet. So we're at the bar, and seated a few stools down is a young local woman. There was this strong scent in the air, and old Charles here, starts sniffing around in the air. Now, obviously not thinking about where we were at and all (remember, in a bar in the gut of Toulon, France), he proclaims quite loudly "Man, smells like a french whore in here!!!" The bar falls instantly silent, and all eyes turn on him and a rather pregnant pause follows...well, quite fortunately, the kind of folks hanging out, drinking beer in early afternoon Toulon, have a pretty good sense of humor, so the place then erupted in raucous laughter, even the young lady!
Yeah, we never let Charles live that one down. That story came up quite often over the years :-) |
|
|
|
04/09/2006 09:12:39 PM · #6 |
Charles and I both live in the Seattle area, so one day last September we decided to meet up at Woodland Park Zoo.
It was a hot day, and many of the young ladies walking around were showing plenty of skin.
Charles had a hellish time concentrating on his photography, the "scenery" kept distracting him too much. At one point, checking out a particularly nice "view", he walked straight into one of those directory posts and dropped his camera bag (luckily only onto soft grass and it didn't even open).
A small bruise and the scare about his gear helped him keep his mind on the job after that.
Good thing I only made this up, huh, Chuck?
Or did I? ;-) |
|
|
|
04/09/2006 09:18:55 PM · #7 |
Originally posted by taterbug:
Well, I remember back in the 80's, when Charles and I were serving together in the Navy. We were in port in Toulon, France. Toulon has one of the best 'guts' in the mediterranean (gut=seedy parts of town present in most port cities, comprised primarily of bars and cathouses). So we had knocked off work early and Charles and I, and a couple of other buddies were sitting in this bar having a beer. Early afternoon, so not a whole lot of people in there yet. So we're at the bar, and seated a few stools down is a young local woman. There was this strong scent in the air, and old Charles here, starts sniffing around in the air. Now, obviously not thinking about where we were at and all (remember, in a bar in the gut of Toulon, France), he proclaims quite loudly "Man, smells like a french whore in here!!!" The bar falls instantly silent, and all eyes turn on him and a rather pregnant pause follows...well, quite fortunately, the kind of folks hanging out, drinking beer in early afternoon Toulon, have a pretty good sense of humor, so the place then erupted in raucous laughter, even the young lady!
Yeah, we never let Charles live that one down. That story came up quite often over the years :-) |
I'm really surprised that Charles was allowed to go in the Navy after some of the stunts we pulled in the late '60s. We were at a concert in, damn, can't remember, watching this band, I think, and we were pretty wasted, wait I'm not sure if that was Charles or not. Charles was that you and I or was I with Rick that time. Well not much has changed with my memory! |
|
|
|
04/09/2006 09:38:38 PM · #8 |
Well, when I was visiting there a couple of years back I was in the Space Needle, having gotten seperated from my hubby and kids and this very nice man invited me for a drink in the rotating bar/restuarant. One thing led to another and before you knew it we were taking pictures of everything that moved and everything that didn't! Soon we and our $5,000 cameras and 10 GB cards were kicked out for bothering all the other patrons but that didn't stop us, we just went up to the observation deck and started all over again.
But then security found me, after my hubby had reported me missing and was getting ready to escort me back to my family. But before I left I just had to know the tall dark stranger's name. He just turned, held my hand in his and as he gently raised my fingers to his lips he replied, "Quixote, Digital Quixote at your service ma'am."
I don't remember much after that, the security people said I fainted and had to be carried back down to my family. I'll never forget that wonderful 15 minutes of my life, it was so magical.
Deannda
So glad I finally found you again!
|
|
|
|
04/09/2006 09:50:52 PM · #9 |
I'm not sure why Charles was in West Virginia. Then again, I'm not sure why I was there, either. The mountains in that state get pretty damn remote, and as I recall we both were lost. Charles had a camera, of course, and I had a rubber duckie (a gift from a French whore, it still smelled of her). We decided that being lost together was slightly less dangerous than being lost separately, so we hiked along until we found a mountain stream. I'm thinking about how thirsty I am, but all Charles can think about is getting a killer rubber ducky shot. Somehow he talks me into stripping and getting into the stream with my duckie. Once I got used to the chilly water, I started feeling all comfortable, the way you get when you're taking a bath with your rubber duckie, and I started telling Charles things, things I'd never told a man before. Soon, I notice that he's stepping further and further back. "It's okay," he says. "I got a zoom." But then he tosses my clothes into the stream and runs away! To make a long story short, I lived like an animal for three months and Charles got a spread in Outdoorsman. So, I'd say I owe him one. A real big one.
|
|
|
|
04/09/2006 09:53:41 PM · #10 |
Originally posted by posthumous:
I'm not sure why Charles was in West Virginia....I owe him one. A real big one. |
ROFLMAO! Great story :-) |
|
|
|
04/09/2006 10:15:12 PM · #11 |
Having convinced me that "it's not really that cold down there", I foolishly accompanied Charles on one of his so-called "photo excursions" to the Antarctic, ostensibly to capture the mating rituals of the White-crested Pomeranian Penguin. Oh, we got off a few good shots, fine, but little did I realize that his decades-old prediliction for water fowl had by this time bordered on addiction, and nothing satisfies an unnatural craving for fatty seabirds more than penguin. I was crouched beside the sweetest little tableaux of a papa penguin and his fuzzy little grey charge nestled between his feet, ready to pop off another shot, when something in the distance caught my eye. I looked up from behind my camera in time to see Charles about to stuff one of the little grey sweeties into his gaping maw. He'd spotted me watching, and dropped the little guy, running toward me with a look of horror on his face. "You don't understand," he was blubbering. "They're actually tougher when cooked!"
Naturally, I haven't spoken with him since.
Sorry Charles! ;) |
|
|
|
04/09/2006 10:18:02 PM · #12 |
Remember that one time...at band camp...
|
|
|
|
04/09/2006 10:42:55 PM · #13 |
The winds were whipping up pretty bad - about 110 knots or so. We had been watching the storm approach for days, staring as it left the leeward islands behind, bearing down on Cuba.
Charles had talked me into going with him to Cedar Key to cover it from start to finish. Loaded with cameras, clothing, and food supplies, we headed out to the island while a stream of tourists and residents headed for the safety of the mainland.
We shot the preparations - the boarding up of the buildings, the emergency preparations being made to protect property. We went to the shore and captured images of the boats heading off to safer harbours. As the winds picked up, we captured the building clouds, the palms bending further and further, and eventually, the remnants of buildings and posessions passing by, tossed about like paper thrown from a moving vehicle.
Once the storm reached hurricane strength, we had to hunker down for safety. In the stairwell of a parking garage, we drank beer and told stories, yelling to be heard over the howling of winds.
The silence of the hurricane's eye was deafening. Charles and I headed out to get some quick shots of the damage, taking advantage of the break before the winds returned, blowing in from the opposite direction. We had been out for about 15 minutes and were headed back to our shelter when the winds suddenly returned. Unlike an approaching hurricane, where the winds build over time, when the edge of the eyewall hits, you get hammered full strength almost immediately.
That was the last time I saw Charles - sailing off into the Gulf, carried by the roofing materials that slammed him full force. I don't know what ever happened to him, but I took his camera and turned in the photos he had taken to the Miami Herald.
His estate will be receiving the Pulitzer this year. |
|
|
|
04/09/2006 10:48:56 PM · #14 |
I remember it well... as if only yesterday, but it was indeed a long long time ago... a time and place, one often times strives to erase from one's memory.
I had joined the "Legionnaires" aka French Foreign Legion in an attempt to escape my past. Low and behold, during one one of my forays I came across this poor hapless soul, lying motionless on the desert floor, near death.
My men and I carried him back to the barracks and tended to his health, and soon he was healthy and hearty again.
Then one day, with a twinkle in his eyes he asked: "Ray, when the urge strikes you Legionnaires...What do you do??" ..."Urge, I asked, What do you mean?" He smiled, a grin came across his face..."You know..he said"....."Oh that I responded... when that urge comes... we have a camel in the barn you see............... He cut me off abruptly ... "NEVER he said.... and the conversation was ended.
A few weeks later, as I was searching for some equipment, I opened the barn door, and to my horror saw him on a wooden crate...... "NO NO I yelled.... We ride the camel into town.
(No camels were injured during the fabrication of this totally fictitious story)
Ray |
|
|
|
04/09/2006 11:17:36 PM · #15 |
Charles,
I don't understand your need for these fictional accounts. I would have thought that night in Rio would have been enough for you for the rest of your life. That's what you told me anyway.
Heartbroken,
Dawn |
|
|
|
04/09/2006 11:23:15 PM · #16 |
Originally posted by deapee:
Remember that one time...at band camp... |
Wasn't that the time when we put crazy glue on the end of all the trumpets.... |
|
|
|
04/09/2006 11:26:51 PM · #17 |
Originally posted by LKMote:
Originally posted by deapee:
Remember that one time...at band camp... |
Wasn't that the time when we put crazy glue on the end of all the trumpets.... |
something like that.
|
|
|
|
04/10/2006 01:03:13 AM · #18 |
I would tell everyone about when Charles and I got married, but what happens in Vegas....
 |
|
|
|
04/10/2006 10:48:06 AM · #19 |
I don't remember the wedding due to one of the most powerful forces in nature, the tequila shooter. Or more precicely many of them. But I remember the anullment.
I found out you were using an assumed name. I was shocked it wasn't Art at all! Your real name was Kenisha or Kendric or Kensington or some such. I think you even lied to the Priest. I'll never know for sure because of tequila's mind tricks.
I could never respect you after your deception. What was I to think? Maybe your last name wasn't even Roflmao?
Sorry to split on you, buddy.
Message edited by author 2006-04-10 18:50:55. |
|
|
|
04/10/2006 11:58:57 AM · #20 |
Charles,
So glad you've given me the opportunity to get this off my chest.
I have a confession to make. I hope you'll forgive me for the trespass I made during that week that you and your wife were so kind as to invite me into your beautiful home. If you haven't done it yet; perhaps you'll now consider stuffing some Kleenex into those old skeleton keyholes in your doors. Especially the ones in the shared bathroom between the guest room and your master bedroom.
Remember that day that I was so hung-over from the Ouzo we all drank the night before? You were so generous to share the last of the three bottles you had smuggled back from your trip to Lesvos. Your wife asked me to go with her into town that afternoon, but I declined and took a nap instead.
After about an hour, or so I was awakened by the intense urge to pee. Still groggy, I stepped into the bathroom. The haunting sound of "Un bel di" wafted under the door that led to your room. Perhaps the headache clouded my sense of decorum; because, before I realized it, I found myself aligning a bloodshot eye to the keyhole.
I immediately recognized the antique Geisha kimono that you had picked up in Japan. What I didn't recognize was the beautiful woman wearing it. Certainly, it wasn't your wife; as I had watched her drive down the long, winding road on her trek to town. At first I was angry at you for allowing another woman into your bedroom, in your wife's absence. I vowed to send her an anonymous disclosure, via email, as soon as I got back to Florida.
Then, I thought better of it. Perhaps you have an "open" marriage, and your wife knows you have a Geisha mistress. After all, she seemed almost relieved that I had chosen not to go into town with her. It ocurred to me that she had repeatedly spoken fondly of the new produce manager at the Thriftway. That would explain why she chose to shop at the Thrifway.
All of these thoughts were jarred from my mind when the white-faced woman twirled to the music and the layers of the kimono floated up to expose the largest, hairiest calves I had ever seen! The music must have been loud enough to mask my involuntary exclamation when I realized that the geisha was you. Frozen in astonishment, I was unable to pull my eye away from the keyhole. I strained to see through the vingnetted opening as you danced in and out of view.
Eventually guilt overtook me and I edged back towards my room. Painstakingly, I eased the door shut; taking care to avoid even a squeak. Back in my own room, I realized that I still had to pee. I bounced on the bed, yawned loudly and coughed. Next, I jiggled the brass doorknob of the bathroom door. By the way, that doorknob is about to come off. As I stomped into the bathroom I heard you scramble to turn off the music.
I had planned to keep this a secret until you made this post. Now, you must know that it was not the private memory you believed it to be; but a shared memory, indeed.
Sincerly,
Roxanne
|
|
|
|
04/10/2006 07:15:50 PM · #21 |
Oh Roxanne, I so wanted to tell you at the time. I heard you the first time; the near-silent swish of bare feet on the marble floor; the soft sigh of your hair brushing the keyhole. I wanted to tell you then, but with all the yawning, and squeaking, and doornob rattling, and (frankly) the flushing ... it just didn't seem like the right momment.
I can tell you now though, after all this time.
Always remember ... there are male geishas.
And this is what will really bend your head ... never forget what might have been. |
|
|
|
04/10/2006 07:31:27 PM · #22 |
| Funny that...I've had a strange attraction to geishas ever since... |
|
|
|
04/11/2006 02:21:01 AM · #23 |
Originally posted by Digital Quixote:
I don't remember the wedding...But I remember the anullment....Sorry to split on you, buddy. |
Tell that to Charles Jr. as you're writing out the child support checks, pal!
 |
|
