A Day In The Life of Adele

Here's where i'll tell you all about adele and darren and adele's best buds debbie and fluffy....i don't know where they came from, they just started forming in my mind one day last year.  sometimes they clamor to escape with all manner of odd tales  to tell, sometimes i think they are hibernating, and i don't hear from them for months.

i'll just keep adding the stories until i've got them all here for your reading pleasure.   they might be weirdos, but they're my weirdos.

#1

when i said "if you hadn't bee drinkin' and speedin' there wouldn't have been an accident", he shot me a hugely nasty look, hot out of hell, and i smirked, like i always do, and that was the bare beginning of the day.

"three over easy and white toast and a whole mess of hash browns come up and get it."    debbie stubbed out her third cigarette since we'd sat down a half hour before.  "that's me" she snarled.   debbie wasn't much fun in the morning, especially when she was stuck and squawking in one of those pale, anemic places in life, like she was today.  she brought her plate back to the table and poked at those eggs like an older brother pokes at a younger one when he's real bored and cranky and ready for a fight.   actually debbie was already having a fight, with our other best girlfriend fluffy, but that's another whole story.

"it's just eggs for cripes sake.  this is a freakin' diner, how can they mess up eggs?  i swear, your cousin arnie could mess up a wet dream."  don't mess with debbies' food; that's one thing you dont' want to do.  

arnie is the cook, the only one at baldwins', the diner in town, the only diner.  it's a good thing there aren't a lot of people living here where we live, with the one diner and all.  it's kind of a bad thing too though, 'cause it gets dull as a dead beer around here on a regular basis.  it's a real regular kind of place that way.

debbie and me have been tight since seventh grade.  we were the only two girls whose boobs arrived that year.  it got all the  flat-chested ones all mad when the boys would snap our bras through our shirts.  we just laughed and snorted.  debbie went first into that weird world of letting boys put their hot little hands all over 'em; i waited 'til eighth grade for that.

my cousin arnie, the cook who couldn't, was my fathers' sisters' kid.  he pretty much grew up in our house cause his parents split up and then his mom got killed by some guy who said he loved her but i don't think he really did 'cause he went and killed her.   i mean think about it.

before me and deb met fluffy, i was debs' only friend that wasn't named debbie too.  she had three other friends all named debbie.  it got kind of weird sometimes, all those debbies hanging around together, talking about debbie things and doin' debbie stuff together.

my name is adele.  that was my grandmothers' name too, my mother's mother.  i didn't like her and she didn't like it that i had her name; she was probably the first human being to not think it was some sort of honor to have her kid name her kid after her mother.    no, she acted like i took her name from her or something.   give me a break.  i used to bring bugs in from outside and put them in her african violet plants 'cause she loved them but she was never anything but mean to me.  i called them african violent plants.

debbie sure did somehow manage to eat all those eggs she hated.  she all but licked the plate clean.  "did you get that thing with the police all figured out?" she asked as she licked her fingers.  debbie is a finger licker.  she's a slurper too. 

"you mean is darren out of jail, or is there some other god-awful thing i'm about to find out about something he's done?" i said.

see, that kind of thing is entirely possible with darren.  he gets into some stuff that sometimes i don't even hear about until it's over.  i guess it's better that way.  darren is pretty much a pain in the ass like that.  but at least with his most recent accident, i did know what had happened.

he was drunk as a skunk and driving all stupid and crazy back from mickey's birthday party and he hit a freakin' deer and his face hit the freakin' steering wheel and most of his teeth flew out the freakin' window.   the cops called me and by the time i got to where he was, darren was just laughing; thought it was pretty funny that he had no teeth.  well that was two weeks ago and he doesn't think it's real funny now:  he's waiting to get his new fake choppers and all he does is whine whine whine, all while i'm whipping up all his food in the blender every night, trying to take care of him and he doesn't even get it.  he doesn't even notice i'm being nice to him when i ought to just punch him in the head and knock his eyes out too.  i mean give me a break.