Mavis Rose and Willie Nelson…

24 Jun

I met Willie Nelson. I shit you not.

I was at a coffee shop sipping a delicious iced coffee on a sweltering hot summer night. I needed a break from the noisy atmosphere inside the cafe. Gertrude agreed. We were obliged to step outside for some fresh air. As usual, my darling hippo-friend’s pontoon ass never fits through any normal size door… It took a good five minutes to squeeze her out. Outside, we were reminded that the air was, indeed, not fresh. But more like that of an exhaust pipe. We might as well have stood directly behind a car, put our lips up to the tail end and drawn on the pipe as if it were a giant Cuban cigar. Nonetheless, it was a break from the noise pollution inside the building. As we loitered on the hot asphalt a middle age, grey-haired fellow with a nifty hat and an acoustic guitar slowly crept out of a shadowy gated hallway on our left. Gertrude seemed a bit put out by him because he was old, wrinkly and perfumed with whiskey and marijuana. I, however, was intrigued. Who was this odd fellow? He stopped three feet away from us. “Can I play a song for you?” I told him I would love to hear a song… but asked him his name first. He shook his head. “What’s your name young lady?” I told him my name was Mavis Rose and that my hippo’s name was Gertrude. He was perplexed. “What do you do, Mavis Rose?” I told him my profession and what Gertrude and I do in the ring.
“Wow!” With great enthusiasm he lifted up his guitar and passionately began to strum and sing a song!!! It was lovely. I could feel the energy and emotion behind his music. As soon as his last chord was played, he said, “that was for you Mavis and Gertrude… especially for you!!!” He took a bow. I told him how much I appreciated his song and that we would love to hear another one someday. I told him I would like to know his name. He said, “Sometimes people call me, Willie Nelson.” With that, he winked at me and walked away.” -The End, Mavis Rose

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