MBA - Moron$ Ba$ and A$$

by Jeff Blackwell

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Ready for Love

  Of course, if all were really good and bright and cheerful and gay, I wouldn’t be lying here, would I? Do I sound irritable? Well, let me tell you. As I get to this part in my concrete chaffed recollections, I can feel my blood pressure spike. I get very pissed thinking about this. It happened on my watch. It was the first time I truly felt homicidal. If I could’ve gotten my hands around the neck of the person responsible… but I’m getting ahead of my story in my own thoughts. By the way, the second time I felt homicidal would be, actually, right now. As my blood pressure goes up, the adrenaline flow goes up with it. If I can catch the asshole that thought I would look good as a sticky silver mummy… Ok, back to my musings in a semi - chronological order. I have said many, many times since,

  Luckily, the explosion happened at night.

  We ran a small crew after dark which contributed greatly to nobody getting hurt. During the day, there would have been a number of workers roaming all around in the plant. We would have had injuries or worse. I would have been in the “worse” category if I still lived in that shithole trailer. It was located next to the reactor that blew. The only thing left of the area was some twisted metal and, most likely, a few of my roach roommates.

  This should not have happened. It was like somebody hurt my baby. We built tons of safety features and redundancy into our equipment and processes. Our main reactor should never, ever blow up. Before this night, I would have staked my life on that fact.

  The night had started out rather promising. I was on my third date with the school librarian, Holly Head. I was hoping to move beyond the introduction and character development straight into the twists and turns of the main plot. In other words, I was ready to get laid. Duh.

  We were at the obligatory third date “Hey it’s time to check me out for an overnight read” local watering hole. It wasn’t exactly a high class French restaurant, but it did have white table cloths, decent steaks and waiters that actually acted like they gave a shit.

  “So, Mick, I know a lot about you yet I know so little.”

  “I’m a pretty simple guy. I grew up in Ohio and had a really great childhood. I have a brother who works as a criminal investigator for some Federal agency he is not allowed to talk about. Who knew that the kid who couldn’t tie his shoes and loved to eat mud would turn out to Fed Head.”

  “While you turned out more of a Deadhead.”

  “I will consider that a compliment of the first order! As I’m sure you detected from time in my little deuce coupe, I am a major classic rock fan.”

  Holly smiled and whispered softly, “I have every BTO and Segar album ever recorded.”

  This could be the beginning of beautiful thing. Holly really was the whole package. A bright mini- skirted beautiful bespectacled funny librarian with strawberry blonde hair, a dazzling smile and a fabulous soft North Carolina accent. And, no, I was not wearing my Chardonnay goggles.

  “So, Mick, tell me more about you.”

  “Well, I have a great set of parents. They’re getting a bit older, but are hanging in there. Dad owns his own siding and window business and still plays golf three times a week. Mom is a walking encyclopedia of joke and rock references. I don’t get to see them enough.”

  “So, why is a guy like you available for dates?”

  “I might ask you the same question.”

  “Well, first of all, I’m not a guy. Sorry, no Dude Looks Like a Lady reference possibilities.”

  Didn’t I tell you she was funny?

  “And let’s keep this about you tonight. We can delve into me another night.”

  I managed to choke back the obvious line about hoping to delve into her tonight. Instead I said, “I guess it is the old cliché about being too busy and never finding the right one. I thought I had several times, but something always seemed to go wrong. My first real love decided someone else had a better baton than I did.”

  “Huh?”

  “That’s another long story for another night. My other disastrous relationships might have been partially my fault. I have been accused of being more dedicated to my work than I am to my romantic attachments.”

  By now, we were into the dessert course. Holly has a special twinkle in her deep green eyes as she slowly brought a slightly over ripe cream covered strawberry to her red pouty lips. Ok, maybe the wine was altering my perceptions just a tad. She paused right before she bit into it to ask, “In your line of work, don’t you have to use very precise numbers?”

  “Uh, yes. Our processes are quite delicate and precise. Why do you ask?”

  She used the tip of her tongue to flick a bit of lingering cream off her lower lip and replied in, I swear to God, a raspy husky voice, “Well, as a librarian, decimals make me dewy.”

  “Check, please!!!!!!”

  After speeding to my place in world record time, I poured a couple of neat Jagermeisters (single dude hint – always have well chilled JM and a couple of classy frozen shot glasses ready to go on a moment’s notice. If that doesn’t impress your lady, then she probably isn’t right for you anyway). I had a little soft rock turned way down low on the stereo. Does that sound pretty awesome in a wimpy romantic kind of way or what? We were ready to get this party started. Holly had unbuttoned her blouse far enough to make me appreciate the grandeur of the Rockies in spring time. She swayed her hips seductively to Don’t Bring Me Down as she slowly closed in for the kill. “Hey Stud. I wanted you the first time I laid my eyes on your hot bod, you hunk of molten manhood.” Those may not have been exactly her words, but this is my memory and I’ m in a seriously pissed off mood, so allow me some slack here, OK? Anyway, as our parted lips met, we both felt the sparks fly and the earth tremble. I mean literally tremble and there was a loud boom. I went from vertical with a babe in my man cave of love to horizontal with a sore ass on my plush carpet in the blink of an eye.

  “What the fuck?”

  “Jeez, Mick, I expected you to be a good lover but…wowzie.”

  As Holly untangled from the fake ficus she took down with her, my land line rang, cell phone rocked, and computer beeped simultaneously. That only happens when Dad breaks one hundred or there is a serious problem at the plant. Since it was ten pm…

  “Ah shit, babe, this can’t be good. Gotta run.”