"Hey, stranger. How are you, Betty?"
"I'm good, and you?"
"I'm okay. I was just thinking about you."
"That's because I'm hot. Just okay?"
"Well, yeah, but okay is good."
"Well that's good. I got a new car; I'm minivan free in 2009!"
"I wasn't thinking about you because you're hot (although you are); you must be thinking of your other boyfriend, Michael. So a new car, no minivan, wow. Have you had sex in it yet?"
"For your information, Michael is not hot. He is smokin' hot. And no, I have not had sex in it yet. I am an adult. I have a house with a master bedroom if I want to have sex."
"With Michael, it's the accent or something."
"I'm betting on it being the 'or something.' I used to be smokin' hot too, a decade or two ago; now I just smolder. Oh, and thanks for 'A Few Minutes with Betty'; it's been pretty popular, and I'm thinking of putting it in the humor book."
"I'll be hot well into my 70s."
"Of course you will be. So no more minivan, eh? What did you get, just an F-150 to haul them around like cargo or sheep?"
"A Ford Flex. It holds eight people."
"Oh, well then they won't be able to hang their heads over the side, and throw things at other vehicles."
"That is true. Fortunately for the world, my preschool-age children are more mature than you and your middle-aged hooligan friends."
"Hello? Where did you go? Are you there, Betty?"
"I come and go."
"I noticed; and right when the story was going to get really funny too, dammit. So have you had sex in the Flex yet?"
"I got things to do. We only got it home at 10 last night."
"No, George is sick."
"Well you're a little pervy too sometimes, ya know."
"You wish I was. So we only had sex once today, on the glass dining room table."
"I used to have a life like that, a hundred years ago."
"Aww. That's because you are old. You don't want to break a hip."
"Oh sure, put all the responsibility on the hips. I'm thinking I may just break one to get it over with."
"Don't do that. At your age it would take a while to heal."
"At my age, hangnails take a while to heal. So, um, you and George taking the Flex for a sex test drive tonight then? Or he is still too sick to party?"
"He's working tonight."
"Oh, I forgot about the new hours. So, the 'kids-all-at-school' has taken on a new meaning in your life, no?"
"Yes. Sex three days a week. Were the twins gone five days a week, I would be all set. But I'm going to hook up with my PS3 boyfriend later and kill things."
"Wait. You have a PS3 boyfriend?"
"Of course I do; George doesn't play video games, and I needed someone."
"Why don't I have a PS3 girlfriend? I need someone too."
"You don't even have a PS2, let alone a PS3."
"I don't even have a PS. That's my problem: no PS."
"That's a lot of people's problems: they don't make those anymore."
"Of course, so on top of all that, I am culturally out of touch. Dammit. Time was, my big problem was PMS. Now, I am reduced a letter, and my big problem is PS. Before I know it, I will be down another letter, and my problem will just be P."
"Well yes, you are culturally out of touch, but at your age, that won't be a problem too much longer."
"You are always so uplifting to me."
"Hey, I'm a smokin' hot mama, I'm not a bra. I don't have to be uplifting."
"Thanks for calling, Betty. I feel so much, um, better."
"Ta-ta for now. Get it? Tah-tah? I've got to go flex in the Flex."
"Of course you do: sex in the flexed Flex."
April 1, 2009.
Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.