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The tragedeigh in the locker room
Kaylynn-Maye-Ohliveeia-Roase swiped her card in the scanner next to the door, and waited for it to open. As she entered the 24-hour gym, there was a loud click somewhere in the dark recesses of the building and the lights abruptly came on. The doors slid closed behind her, and she looked around. She was alone in the gym in the small hours of the morning. To her right, rows of machines stared back at her with their blinking lights, and to her left were weight benches, gymnast's bars, trampolines, boxing bags, and various other paraphernalia, laid out neatly in their designated areas, still and lifeless. On the far wall, ahead of her, a large sign informed her that there were changing rooms, showers, and toilets on the other side of the wall. Women's on the left, men's on the right. She hefted up her bag, and headed in that direction.
She liked it in the gym at this hour. It was so quiet, and a bit lonely. As she entered the locker room lobby, Kaylynn-Maye-Ohliveeia-Roase glanced over at the ranks of lockers on the left-hand wall. Third from the left, on the top row, was hers. Beside it, on the right, was an empty locker. It had been empty for over three months now. She turned away, and began to change on the one of the benches in the middle of the room. The locker had once belonged to her best friend, Jennyphyr-Aleckzandrah-Tyffaknee-Aanne. They had used to gym together every evening after work, enjoying the company and shared motivation. Since Jennyphyr-Aleckzandrah-Tyffaknee-Aanne had moved to another city three months ago, Kaylynn-Maye-Ohliveeia-Roase preferred to come at night, when she could be by herself, and not have to talk to strangers. For some reason, gym administration had not reassigned the locker, and so it had remained empty, a silent reminder of her absent friend.
As she tuned back to put her things in the locker, Kaylynn-Maye-Ohliveeia-Roase noticed that something was different today. The name plate on the empty locker was no longer blank. It had a name. But it was a strange name. Only five letters. She looked at it again. Grace. What kind of a name was that? It was much too short. It might be a quarter of a name if you were lucky. Perhaps this person was an example of the recent trend of parents unnecessarily shortening their children's names to make them sound cool and unique? To Kaylynn-Maye-Ohliveeia-Roase it sounded silly. The poor girl must surely have been bullied for it all the way through school. And what did it say about her parents, to burden her with a name like that, just to feed their ego? Such a tragedy. The only other person she knew whose name came even a little close was Margharette-Yvonne, and even she had trouble filling in forms with a name that short. Everyone asked her lots of extra questions, a name that short wasn't the done thing and so it always aroused suspicion.
As Kaylynn-Maye-Ohliveeia-Roase headed back out into the gym, she pondered this strange name. Perhaps, in ten or twenty years time, what was now a silly fad would become the norm. But in the meantime, she decided, someone had to be cursed with being the forerunner of change. She was just grateful it wasn't her.
Jingle bells- retail smells
dashing Through the store
customers stopping you along the way-
They all ask questions more!
where is that today?
Nothing is where I can find it
Theres too many people in here!
I can’t get through these own damn i
Now I want to swear!
oh jingle bells
retail smells
were all really broke-
have to get through Christmas Day
trying not to have a stroke
jingle bells retail smells
I work for
minimum wage!
I don’t get paid enough for this-
but I’ve got bills to pay!
wishing that I could leave
but again I’m really broke
working Christmas Eve
debating if I should go!
jingle bells
retail smells
I hope my shift ends soon-
I really want to go get drunk
Ill be out getting drunk past noon!
merry christmas!
Remember... yo! Christmas
Remember... yo! the party you weren't invited
by the Ghost of Christmas Passed
Remember... yo! the girlfriend who ghosted you
as the Ghost of Christmas Lament
Remember... yo! your sister's boyfriend
who moved in as the Ghost of Christmas Moocher
Remember... yo! mind your face ya mo'fo
when you meet by chance under the cameltoe
Remember... yo! the bells that jingle
under that lecherous Mr. Kringle
Remember... yo! Carolers came
so you slammed the door when they sang so lame
Remember... yo! pathetic Christmas tree
that burned down yo house for me
Yo! I remember each one each year
that brings me nothin' but insincere
Yo! time to get n'other day for me
What's this menorah thing I see?
Cute in the face
The woman left her number on a cocktail napkin. Allen watched her leave. Terry sighed.
‘Why do I always get the ugly ones?’
‘Ugly?’ Allen grabbed the napkin and held it up. ‘This woman, Veronica, was hot. I mean smoking hot.’
Terry winced. ‘You’ve got to be kidding me. Did you see her philtrum? It had to be two-centimeters wide. And don’t get me started on her dorsum. I do have standards, man.’
Allen was speechless. Finally he said ‘Did you see those big, juicy tits? That skinny waist? That ass?’
Terry yawned. ‘Not just anybody can date an otorhinolaryngologist.’
I see you
An itchy neck
From a scratchy tag
The hairy mole
On an old hag
Flat beer served
In a broken glass
Rolled eyes
And a rejected pass
A dead queen in
An empty hive
Picture day
With double pink eye
Flat tire, no spare
A just-missed flight
Tax audit notice
And a huge rent hike
You are
An apple rotten to its core
None of this is metaphor
Ch-ch-ch-ch-Chia!
How can you go wrong giving some carefully-selected person, loved or otherwise, a Chia pet?
If they're children, they will see the miracle of life with anticipatory excitement.
If they're adults, they will think of you (if you know what I mean... maybe) every time they look at it.
If they're intellectuals, they will wax philosophical about anthropomorphism.
If they're dullards, they'll be fascinated.
If they're adolescents, they'll have something new to try in the pipe.
If they're businessmen, they'll pine for missed business opportunities.
If they're women, they'll be seduced.
If they're men, they will finally own a plant.
The best gift...
It is a widely maintained secret, circulated, but never stated explicitly, among those in the know, in the higher echelons of gift giving-- you know, The Martha Stewart's, The Rachel Ray's, The Doctor Phil's, The Oprah Winfrey's, of the world-- that the best gift, hands down, whether for close friend or family member, or co-worker, or teacher, or other necessary recipient, for whom you have such difficulty picking precisely --of course with careful consideration as to brand, and package, and other minor details, as to size and name--- is of course, the scented candle. Always good for regifting.
12.02.2023
The-best-gift-drabble@Ferryman