THE BIG RED SUITCASE

Thou shalt drive into the dark of night with a naked woman beside you

 

 

Trust me, there’s more where that allegedly came from but I’m saying nothing. Let’s get on with it. 

Okay, so I have this girlfriend—or should I say girl fiend—whose name happens to be Lara. My father loves her, probably mostly because of her name—Doc Zhivago is his favorite motion picture—but also because she has a nice set. He’s into that still. 

Well, so am I, but… 

Anyway, Lara’s okay. I mean, really, she is. It’s just that sometimes she goes off on these tangents. But doesn’t every woman? 

Take the other day. She calls me up and the first thing she says is 'I’m outta toothpaste can you bring some back?' I start to respond and then she says 'Oh and my sister’s gettin’ nutty again. Man this carpet’s dirty. Can you believe what they show on TV now? You don’t KNOW how bad I want a puppy.' 

And on and on. You get me? 

I’m going to call her Lara the Tangent Babe. (Believe me, she is a babe. It’s just the mouth.) 

So today I walk in and she’s packing. Got that big red suitcase out on the bed and is just packing away. Blouses here, slacks there, brassieres here, panties there, etc., etc. And I’m watching her. I say, 'Whatcha doin?' And she says nothing, like I’m some kind of ghost. By this time the suitcase is crammed. 'Where you headed off to?' I ask, but still I get nothing. She slams the suitcase shut and latches it up then heaves it past me and heads down the hall, the stairs, past the kitchen and out the door. Gone. 

Happy tangents, babe.

© 2023 Jeffrey S. Callico