by Joey Goebel
The first segment went fairly well. I wish they wouldn’t have booed Chuck, but I’m thinking the flashing sign up there told them to. Jenny (or Jenny’s writers, I reckon) kind of made him out to be some type of villain taking advantage of a sweet little old lady. Dumb-asses. Then they brought out Chuck’s daughter from his first marriage. She bitched at both of us, saying how abnormal our relationship was. But I told her she had better shut the fuck up or kiss my ass one, ’cause we’re taking care of her baby while she’s screwing around in junior high.
The commercial break ends and Jenny gets her cue.
“Hi. We’re back talking to Chuck and Opal, a newlywed couple who claim to have a deep love for each other despite the fact that he’s twenty-nine and she’s eighty-one. We have time for a few questions from the audience.”
She goes over to hold the microphone to the big mouth of a big woman.
“This question goes to the long-haired, bearded dude.”
“That’s Chuck,” says Jenny.
“Right. This question is for Chuck. Get a life. She’s not active like you are. Get someone else.”
I say, “By God, listen here, you big-popoed hoochie,” but Chuck grabs my thigh with authority and interrupts my butt.
“Let me tell you something, she is active. I have loved a whole lot o’ women, but there ain’t nothin like ridin down the highway about 90 miles an hour with this woman on the back of my scooter.”
The audience laughs, and Chuck takes my hand and gives it a love squeeze. The next question comes from a big fat black lady.
“This question is also for Chuck. That is the only mother you’re ever gonna have. You should love your mother.”
“That doesn’t apply at all to this situation,” says Jenny. “Opal and Chuck are husband and wife.”
“Oh, well, in that case, you should date people your own age. That’s just weird.”
“Hey now!” says Chuck, but this time there’s no stopping me. I interrupt him.
“Listen, woman. Eat me, and while you’re at it, eat shit and die, fuck-wad.” The censors are gonna have to beep the fuck out of me.
“Secondly, there’s no pleasing you people. All my life people have been asking me, ‘Why don’t you get married?,’ ‘Why do you want to be an old maid?,’ ‘Why do you have so many sex toys in your old age?’ Well, here I am. I’ve finally settled down and married. I even got a granddaughter I take care of for that little slut.” I point to Chuck’s daughter, Cheyenne.
“Sure Chuck’s young, and I’m old, but is it impossible for y’all to believe that we could be happy? In all that’s happened in this world, couldn’t something as little as that be possible? Can’t y’all get past it? Well, if you can’t, y’all just wait ’til you’re this old, and you’ll be past everything. Besides, look at him. Can you blame me?”
Chuck instinctively knows that he’s been cued to stand up and shake his fanny for the crowd. He’s got on his painted-on jeans, Metallica T-shirt, and a blue jean vest, and the ladies yell “Woo!” when they catch a glimpse of his perfect duff.
“That ain’t for y’all,” he says. “That’s for her. That’s all hers.”
“So Opal, is Chuck just a sex object to you?” asks Jenny.
“More like she’s my sex object,” says Chuck. After the audience is done groaning, I answer Jenny’s question.
“No, Jenny. I mean, sure, he rattles my bones and he’s got a great backside, but he’s more than just a sex object. He’s kind of like my savior.”
Acknowledgments
These are the people I will never be able to thank enough:
My mother, Nancy, and my sister, CeCe, who know me better than anyone ever will and still love me. I want you both to be happy more than anything.
Pat Walsh, who has taken the risk of believing in me, as well as David Poindexter and everyone else who plays on the MacAdam/Cage softball team with me.
Michael Bruner, the Dillinghams, the Walkers, and Rene and John for the love, generosity, and encouragement they’ve shown my family and me for so long.
All of my teachers, especially those English teachers by the names of Craig Barrette, David Bartholomy, Vicki Combs, Ellen Dugan-Barrette, and Susie Thurman.
And all of those who I grew up with in Henderson, Kentucky, who have laughed with me, and especially those who have laughed at me.