Mr. Crankypants (in 299 whiney words)

It’s 6:33 in the morning and I haven’t had my coffee. I don’t get to have my coffee. I have to get some blood work done and it requires that I fast for 12 hours. Usually, I prepare for these tests by starting my fast at 6 p.m. the night before so I can get to the lab right when they open, get stuck and start gulping down the pot I took with me before the nurse can get the band-aid on my arm. But this time I forgot and snacked on a little leftover chicken at about 9:30 last night. Dumbass.I tried to explain to my wife that chicken doesn’t count. It’s like the clear liquid of the poultry world, you can have as much as you want, it doesn’t show up in tests. For the 2,479,863rd time since we’ve been married she looked at me with that rolling eyes, half-smirk that clearly says, “Why did I marry this little bald man? He’s such a schmuck.” And for the 2,479,863rd time I had no response but to stare blankly for a minute and finally shrug and admit that, OK…she’s right…again.

I hate women. And I want some coffee.

Nobody’s Neighbors

They had built a little house out in the desert. They had lived there without incident for 20 years. They owned a 1971 Ford pick-up that had over a million miles on it. None of those miles had registered beyond a 23-mile range. The farthest point they ever traveled to was the hospital in Blister. He figured he had put new tires on the truck 18 times in the past 20 years. Not bad, but he always bought the best heavy duty tire manufactured.

They had just returned from Huck’s Market with two bags of groceries. They each carried one brown sack and walked slowly to their door. The never saw it coming. People never do.

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2 Comments on “Mr. Crankypants (in 299 whiney words)”

  1. Erin Says:

    Hope you are happily caffeinated by now and have changed out of your Cranky Pants. The last time I had to forego coffee for a morning blood test I decided that if it weren’t for coffee, I’d NEVER get out of bed.
    I believe inventor of the automatic drip coffee maker with the built in timer is deserving of a Nobel Prize or perhaps a National Holiday.

  2. ThomG Says:

    Loves the little flash fiction piece Philbert. In fact, my thought was, “What can’t I write like that!?!” Seriously good.


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