Ralph LOve's Trumpet

Ralph Love’s Trumpet

The psyche ward wasn’t an institution. It was in downtown Richmond close to the University. The psyche ward was in a park and it contained the homeless or people who have been forgotten by the establishment.
Occassionally the police would come to kick the people out, but most of the time they could stay.
The psyche ward brought the unemployed and the mentally ill. Some of the students from the university would start organizations to give the people in the psyche ward food and medical care, but for the most part the people were there to fin for themselves.
Ralph was a schizophrenic. He had been in the actual Psyche ward ten times in his life. He would go to the ward get on medication, become stable, and then he was let back out into society.
Three weeks ago he was discharged from the hospital. He was given a month supply of medication. He was also put on a waiting list for housing. This gave him some hope to have a roof over his head again.
With only a weeks worth of medication he turned to his only escape. Ralph was a trumpet player. He used disregarded napkins and cloths to shine it up to look like gold. With the help of his trumpet, the voices would subside.
Ralph was able to shower in the psyche ward but it had been three weeks since he had bath. For Ralph finding food and playing his trumpet was more of a priority then bathing. Ralph had long greasy hair and his skin was stained with earth from sleeping in bare spots where the grass wouldn’t grow. A full day as a homeless man was tiring so he was willing to sleep anywhere. IN fact, it was one of his favorite things to do besides playing his trumpet.
Ralph was so dirty that people didn’t think he was caucasion but a different nationality. Despite the dirt, Ralph had green eyes that made him look like he had just awaken from a dream. A dream that pictured him with a family in a house with a garage, a back yard for football and barbecues on Saturday. That dream and Ralph’s trumpet help to get him off the ground.
There was a lot on Ralph’s mind to running out of meds, to that waiting list, to finding food for the day. It all went away with the tone of his muted trumpet. While he played he scheduled his day.
When he felt the buzzing sensation in his lips from playing so hard, he decided to go dumpster diving. His favorite dumpster was in the back of a four star restaurant. He would joke a four star restaurant with three star scraps of food.
He knew a dishwasher there who just got out of drug rehab. His name was Chuck. Chuck would save what was left of lobster and filet mignon. Chuck would do some prep work which consisted of cutting romaine, onions, carrots, and other vegetables. He would save some for Ralph. The cook knew this but turned a blind eye.
The job was apart of Chuck’s drug rehab. Chuck came from a middle class family. He still had the soccer boy haircut.
Before Chuck hit bottom Chuck when to college for English. The only thing that turned him off which was a pretty big thing is that the writers he was learning were not the writers he would read for enjoyment. He liked the drug addicts, and the drunks. He thought they had the best writing and told the best stories. Most of them dyed young and Chuck wanted to be like them. This type of thinking ignited his drug addiction. Chuck would have tried any drug on the table. Soon after Chuck’s motivation wasn’t going to class and studying but trying to get high from whatever he could find.
A couple months back Ralph and Chuck met in the hospital during group therapy. The group was so full some people had to stand. Chuck and Ralph had seats in the back where they acted like little kids, telling jokes and arm wrestling. They became friends and before they left for the hospital and they told each other their plans and well they could find each other.
Ralph arrived at the dumpster and put his trumpet behind it so someone wouldn’t steal it to pawn it.
Ralph was eating the rest of a cheesecake when when Chuck heard the commotion from inside the restaurant.
“Hey, Ralph!” Chuck yelled.
Ralph didn’t hear him, because his sights were on finding food.
Chuck went back inside to get plate of steak and potatoes that the cook left out in the open. The cook was looking over the receits in the front part of the restaurant.
Chuck went to the dumpster and kicked it several times, and yelled Ralph’s name again.
Ralph figured it was the matradee who didn’t like Ralph. Ralph thought he seemed spoiled.
“Just looking for my watch!”
“Ralph!” Chuck yelled, “It’s me Chuck.”
Ralph peaked up, seeing Chuck which made him smile.
“Hey, Chuck.”
Ralph feasted his eyes on the plate Chuck was holding.
“Is that for me?”
“Yup,” Chuck answered, “ get out of that dumpster.”
Ralph jumped out.
“Where’s the silverware?” Ralph asked.
“I haven’t cleaned it yet.” Chuck answered.
“I guess beggars can’t be choosers.” Ralph laughed.
Ralph got his trumpet from behind the dumpster and then took the plate from Chuck.
“Thanks!”
Ralph sat down infront of the dumpster with his trumpet on one side of him and the plate on his lap. He started eating.
Chuck went inside to get the garbage from the night before.
Ralph heard a conversation from inside which scared him so he picked up his trumpet with one hand while still holding the plate and went behind the dumpster.
“…this guy ordered three bottles of the most expensive wine we have.” Said the voice which sounded like the cook.
“The ’69 merlot.” Chuck said.
The two men walked outside. Chuck had two bags of garbage in his hands.
“He left his business card.” The cook said.
Chuck looked around for Ralph.
“Ralph! Where’s he go?”
“Ralph! I know you there I can hear you breathing.” The cook said.
Ralph revealed himself as the cook handed over the business card to Chuck. Chuck dropped one of the bags of garbage.
“He wants both of you.” The cook said as he went back inside.
“What does it say?” Ralph asked.
“It says, ‘World processions talent agency.”
Everything inside Ralph told him to question it, but still he was intrigued.
“Does it have a name and phone number?” Ralph asked.
“His name is Lu and it does have a number to call.” Chucked answered.
Chuck turned the card over. In quotes it said, “Receive all the Worldly processions.”
“Do you want to call?” Chuck asked.
“I don’t think we should do this.” Ralph answered.
“We should atleast call.” Chuck said.
“Okay you call and I will finish my lunch.”
Chuck was so excited he left the garbage bags on the ground. He ran inside to call while Ralph shook his head finishing his lunch.
Ralph finally finished. He put the plate on the ground and stood up. He picked up the garbage bags and looked inside. Finally he shook his head and threw them inside the dumpster.
Ralph picked up his trumpet and worked on some fingering.
“I need a glass of water.”
He went to the back door which was opened. Ralph was as close to as he could be without going inside. He tried his best to listen in on the conversation, Chuck, was having on the phone.
“…Well, Ralph is hesitant… I don’t know why.”
“When can I come?... Well I am at work now.”
The cook was listening in too.
“Cut the squash, and you can go on your break.”
Chuck jumped up and then explained what was going on to the voice on the other end of the phone.
“We will be there… I promise.”
Finally he hung up.
“Ralph!” Chuck yelled.
The cook smiled.
“Cut the squash then you can go.”
“Ralph he wants both of us.” Chuck concluded.
Ralph questioned it all of it.
“I don’t know, Chuck.”
“You have to come!” Chuck yelled.
“Can I have some water?” Ralph asked.
“Sure come on in.” The cook said.
Ralph found the glasses and the sink. He put the two together and then drank.
“Will you go with me, Ralph?” Chuck asked.
“I don’t know.” Ralph answered.
“We have nothing to lose and everything to gain.” Chuck said excited.
“Maybe we shouldn’t.” Ralph said.
He went on to say, “I don’t know why but I don’t trust it.”
“Ralph just go with me, and I am sure, Lu, will change your mind.”
Ralph stood up like a soldier.
“You know things are looking up for me. I am on a list for housing. Lately people have been throwing money in my trumpet case whenever I play-“
“Imagine being able to buy a house, buy a car, and get real cash with our talents.” Chuck interrupted.
Ralph smiled. He wanted that for awhile now.
Chuck noticed the smile. “Lu, can get us all those things.”
“I will go just to support you, because you helped me out.”
“Do the squash!” The cook yelled.
Chuck started washing his hands.
“This could be our chance.”
“Don’t you have to work here. If you don’t your parole officer finds out, you will go to rehab again or maybe even prison besides why does he want us?”
“He knows about your trumpet and my poetry.” Chuck answered.
“I think Ralph is right to question this,” the cook said, “if it is to good to be true it probably is.”
Chuck began to do the squash while Ralph played his trumpet.
“Gabrielle this could be a huge opportunity for us both. We have to go.” Chuck said reassuringly.
Ralph played Amazing Grace while Gabrielle sang loud enough so Ralph could here.
After 15 minutes Chuck was done with the squash. He took off his apron, and grabbed his notebook.
Gabrielle smiled at Chuck.
“Be careful.”
“Ralph!” Chuck yelled.
Ralph stopped playing the trumpet and stood at the back door.
“Are you ready?” Chuck asked Ralph.
“Where are we going?” Ralph asked.
“It is just down the street, a couple of blocks away.” Chuck answered.
The two men left. Gabrielle, the cook, shook his head.
Ralph walked slowly as he played his trumpet. Chuck walked swiftly to the fortune that got bigger in his head.
Ralph heard Gabrielle’s voice in his head. It told him to be careful.
The two men finally arrived at this building that didn’t seem to fit in among the run down boarded up buildings that surrounded it.
The building was a work of art. When the sun hit it, it looked like it was made of gold. There were two figured on two posts. They looked like demons. Their eyes looked like they were staring at Ralph and Chuck. The post the demons were on were joined by a brick wall preventing the men from going inside.
“What do we do now?” Ralph asked.
“There is a button for an intercom.” Chuck answered.
Chuck found it and pressed it.
“Hello,” said the voice.
“Is this, Lu?” Chuck asked.
“This is Lu, who is this?”
Chuck decided to answer.“This is Chuck and Ralph-“
Ralph interrupted. “Is Lu short for something?”
“MY father gave me the unfortunate name of Lucifer.” Lu answered.
“I don’t want to go in.” Ralph concluded.
Lu heard this.
“You either both come in or none of you come in.”
Chuck punched Ralph softly.
“We want to come in.” Chuck said.
A door which was hidden suddenly opened. Chuck went immediately in, but Ralph hesitated as he played his trumpet. Then he followed.
A beautiful woman with a high cut dress with flames on it was waiting. She motioned to them.
“Follow me gentlemen.”
The two men followed her through double doors, down a long hallway. They could hear a rasby voice yelling.
“I want Coltrane! Give me Coltrane!”
The two men looked at each other. Ralph took his lips off the trumpet to mouth the word, “Coltrane.”
The three entered the room.
“Ralph and Chuck are here.” The woman announced.
A man with a gold platted phone on his hear hung it up, and smiled with his gold tooth. He was sitting on a chair that looked like a thrown. The woman walked to the thrown and stood.
In front of the man was desk. On top of the desk were two thick stacks of paper that looked like contracts. They were about as thick as phone books.
The man raised his chin.
“Delila, get the prices that are for the men for signing.”
Delila went to a closet and got a shiny gold trumpet. It was so shiny the two men could see their reflexion in it.
“Can I play that?” Ralph asked.
“First you have to sign.” The man answered.
“Are you, Lu?” Chuck asked.
“I am sorry I should have introduced myself. I am Lu and this beautiful creature is Delila.”
“Where’s my price?” Chuck asked.
Lu clapped his hands once.
“Delila!”
Delila went back to the closet, and came back with a gold shiny tray with lines of white powder. She laid it on the desk beside the trumpet.
“Is that what I think it is?” Chuck asked.
“Straight from Bolivia.” Lu answered.
Chuck’s hands started shaking and he could feel cold swet dripping off his back.
“I went to rehab, because of that.” Chuck said.
“How does that trumpet sound?” Ralph asked ignoring Chuck, because he eyes were on the golden trumpet.
“Both of you can indulge yourselves after you sign.” Lu announced.
“I bet that trumpet doesn’t make a sound.” Ralph concluded.
Lu dropped his jaw his eyes widened in anger.
“If you men sign, I can give you all the world has to offer: the big house, the nice car, women, and so much money.” Lu said trying to hide his anger towards Ralph. He motioned the two men to come closer to sign.
Chuck went closer but Ralph stayed back.
“I can solve all your problems.” Lu said.
Chuck felt the edge of the golden tray.
“It took me awhile to get off this stuff.”
“This stuff, as you call it, help to make true artist creative.”
Lu said as he put two fountain pens on the contract while Ralph stepped further back with his own faded trumpet that kept his heart.
Chuck knelt down and grabbed his pen. He opened the contract to the last page.
“Would you like to join me, Delila?” Chuck asked.
Delia smiled and came closer to the golden tray.
Chuck began writing his name. The ink was red as if it was his own blood.
“Red ink, I like that.” Chuck said.
Ralph heard Gabrielle’s voice.
“Get out.”
Gabrielle’s voice got louder and louder. It got so loud Ralph thought Lu could hear it.
Chuck finished signing his name, and then motioned to Delila to join him. Delila followed. Chuck knelt down to the golden tray, and took a snorted a line.
Ralph kept his eyes on Lu’s eyes. They faded to black.
Ralph high tailed it out of there remembering his trumpet. He ran through the long hallway, through the double doors, and he jumped over the brick wall. He walked a step, and wondered about Chuck. Ralph turned around to see the beautiful building turned into a condemned building with boarded up windows. Even the demons on the posts disappeared.
Ralph made sure he had his trumpet. He decided to double up on his medication, but they weren’t in his pockets. He checked both franticly. They were gone.
Ralph ran back to the restaurant with his trumpet that looked like a faded statue compare to the gold trumpet Lu had.
Ralph arrived at the restaurant with tears in his eyes. The dinner crowd was starting to show.
Ralph went to the kitchen where Gabrielle was.
Gabrielle smiled.
“So Chuck didn’t come back?”
“No.” Ralph answered.
“I need a dishwasher.” Gabrielle said to Ralph.
“I don’t have my meds.” Ralph said with tears in his eyes.
“You don’t need those anymore.” Gabrielle said padding Ralph on his back.
Gabrielle went on to say, “Be my dishwasher.”
“I’ve never washed dishes before.”
“The owner will only give you what he thinks you can handle.” Gabrielle said smiling at Ralph.
“I’m glad you came back.” Gabrielle whispered he Ralph’s ear.

“I think I can wash dishes.” Ralph said as he put down his trumpet.
“The owner also wants to add a jazz band. He told the band, he picked, about your trumpet.”
“Me in a band?” Ralph inquired.
“Mr. Ellington, Mr. Roach, and Mr. Mingus can’t wait to meet you. They wanted Chuck’s words but…”
“What?! What are their names?” Ralph interrupted while he checked his pockets again for his medication.
“Just wash the dishes and do some bussing.” Gabrielle said as he padded Ralph on the back.
Gabrielle tossed Ralph an apron. Without his medication Ralph was concern about the stress that comes with washing dishes in a busy restaurant. He took a deep breath.
A waitress came to the pick up window, but Gabrielle’s head was in the way so Ralph couldn’t see who it was. He voice sounded familiar, but he couldn’t place it in his head who it was.
“Ralph! Bus that table.” Gabrielle yelled.
Ralph noticed a rag and a bus tray underneath his sink. He grabbed them a took a deep breath.
He went through the swinging doors which separated the dining room with the kitchen. Ralph tried to see who the waitress was but every time he tried her back was either turned or her face head was facing another direction.
Ralph went to the table with the dirty dishes, and put the dishes in his bus tray. Then he began to wipe the table off. Occassionally he looked up to try to find who the waitress was.
Suddenly he heard a voice.
“Is that him?” It said.
“I don’t know.” Another one inquired.
“Just ask.” The first voice concluded.
“Ralph! Come on over!”
Ralph turned around to find where the voices were coming from.
There was a table with Duke Ellington, Max Roach, and Charles Mingus.
Ralph laid his bus tray on the table and went over. Ralph’s jaw dropped a mile down. He notice that Charles was devouring his steak, and Max was using his utensils like drumsticks. The Duke smiled at Ralph.
“Hear you play the trumpet?”
“Money jungle was a great album.” Ralph interrupted.
Max and Charles nodded.
“Thank you.” The Duke said.
Ralph was speechless as he felt a pat on the back. Duke looked passed Ralph and said.
“Oh, Hi, Mama Love. You gonna sing tonight?”
Tears then fell from Ralph’s eyes.
“Mama?”
Ralph turned around with arms extended for a hug. Mama Love smiled. She had her hair like she had it when Ralph was a baby boy. He knew this from pictures that were lost through all of Ralph’s moves.
“How’s my baby boy? You were so great today, but I knew you would be. I am so proud of you.”
“Ralph! The dishes aren’t going to wash themselves.” Gabrielle yelled.
Mama Love smiled.
“Look at my baby with a job. I told the owner you could work.”
Mama love wiped the tears from her son’s eyes and then talked to him like he was her soldier.
“Now, I want you to wash those dishes. You go on at 10pm.”
“How about 9:30?” Charles asked as he swallowed his last bit of steak.
Gabrielle cupped his hands next to his mouth so his voice could be projected to the jazz players.
“9:30 is fine, but he still has to wash those dishes.”
Ralph’s smile was a curved as the universe. Ralph left for the table he was cleaning while hearing Mama Love’s voice.
“You know I bought him his first trumpet. He was always so talented.”
Ralph wiped the rest of the table he was working on and turned around.
“This table is read!”
He was still smiling as he went through the swinging doors back to the kitchen.
“I am sure glad you came back, Ralph.” Gabrielle said.
“Me too.”
Ralph put his bus tray in the sink. He then decided to put his trumpet on top of the dishwasher. He reached down but the shine of his trumpet made him jump back. He picked it up. It was now made of gold and silver and also covered with diamonds. It’s illumination lit up the kitchen.
“Hey Gabrielle!” Ralph yelled.
“Yeah!” Gabrielle yelled back.
“Tell the owner I said, ‘thank you.”
Gabrielle smiled.
“Mama Love was a pretty good singer before you were born.”

Men Using Music

"Am I strong enough to be the one. Will I live to have some children." These lyrics came from the Killer's album Sam's Town.
This guy doesn't sound like a player to me. I think he is questioning himself and there is nothing wrong with that. Women don't you want a man who has done some inner maintenance work before he commits to anything. A man like this is willing to answer those hard questions a woman may ask.
It has been said that women are in tune with their bodies and minds. We might be in an era where men are doing the same thing. Maybe we all deserve some alone time to get to know ourselves.
The Black Keys' have an album called, The big come up. In this album there is a song called, Ill be your man." In this song the man is ready willing and able to start that relationship, and aren't they wonderful when they are fresh and new?
In Amy Winehouse's album called Frank, she has a song named, stronger then me.
"You always want to talk it through. I don't care."
First of all, fellas, if you are in a relationship with a Winehouse then should tell her to seek therapy where she can be placed on the right medication. after that stand by her as the meds take hold. If she isn't willing to do that then you should probably leave.
Gran it I like Amy's lyrics but she would have lived longer if she had went to therapy and took her meds.
Communication, you should feel safe in expressing your thoughts and concerns to your partner, even if they have nothing to do with your partner.
Conclusion: the guy in the Killer's probably needs some freinds that are women. Hopefully he isn't the type that falls in love too fast. This is a rare emotion that we can't control.
THe guy in the Black Keys' seems pretty ready to me.
Amy Winehouse is dead. If you have abnormal thoughts or speech or you have thoughts on harming yourself or others consult a mental health proffessional.

Are We better off not knowing

Are we better off not knowing- a freewrite
I am trying to tackle Understanding Media a book by Marshal Mcluhan. It is tough when you just have a community college education. It was published in 1994 so yes it is kind of outdated. I say this because it mention the phone as being a cold medium. I don’t think Mr. Mcluhan had the forsithe to see social networking and you tube by phone. I got to plead ignorance on this one but cold medium sounds like weak medium to me. This book is complicated so I am skimming it.
One thing that caught my eye was in chapter 21 entitled Press. I was interested in this, because during the holidays when the wine and beer were flowing my relatives got into a debate. It was on politics about the election. Fox news was the source of the info discussed by two of my relatives. They got it from Fox News that the president will lose the election in a landslide. My parents who get their news from Msnbc, Cnn and the so called lame stream media said he will win. I stayed quiet feeling that the media as a whole has gotten too big.
In the chapter called Press, Mcluhan mentions that in 1962 when Minneapolis had been for months without a newspaper, the chief of police said, “Sure I miss the news , but so far as my job goes I hope the papers never come back. There is less crime around without a newspaper to pass around the ideas.”
I wonder less crime? I wonder what else would we not have. Both democrats and republicans would agree that this country isn’t where we should be. But this country wants it’s news even if it is the tabloids.
I think about the new air Jordans. I think about flash mobs that riot and loot. As the media gone far enough? Maybe you can just see the bad in everything. I think the media is out of control. Meanwhile you are reading this on a blog. I assure you I am not getting paid for this. Remember Fox News, Msnbc, CNN, and others are a business. They are trying to sell you something like those Jordans.
Maybe I should tackle Manufacturing Consent. I recommend whoever read this to do your own research. The back of the book says, “A Powerful Assessment of How the U.S. Mass Media Fail to Provide the kind of Information That We Need to Understand the World”

Restructuring the Army

I was stationed in Fort Irwin, California in the mojave desert. I was told by a drill sergeant during the last days of basic training I would be in Opfor. I was also told that it would be fun. This was not the case. I entered Fort Irwin, and I was told I would be in Operations Group.
Operations Group was suppose to train along side of Opfor, and of course OPfor was a training unit.
I will not go into the personal emotions I was feeling when I first stepped into the MOjave desert.
In Operations Group Cav Scouts did traffic control points that directed convoys and other traffic to live fire. THere were traffic control points that received no traffic. We just sat on our butts smoking cigarettes.
When we weren't in the field, we were in the motor pool.
In the motor pool, we sat in our M-113's or tracks or tanks (Been around since the Korean War or so I was told) waiting for the next smoke break.
I believe OPerations Group had no purpose. OPfor could do our jobs. Since there was alot of spare time for soldiers there was time for drug use and hazing to name a few rule breaking acts.
I figure there are more units, in the continental U.S. that could be gone.
I think the president or pentagon should hire consultants like the military in a corprotions. THe consultants shouldn't just ask superiors what they do in their unit, but they should ask privates, pfc's, and specialists- as in the work horses or the so called grunts.
I think superiors who have worked their 20 years and beyond should be given the option to retire. I think if they decide to stay in, it would be possible for them to lose there rank. The fact they did it willingly should be noted. They will be able to get it back when their country decides where to put them.
I was in my veteran's hopsital and an ex- combat medic who was now a vet and also a nurse now said we should get out of Europe. It made since and I thought he was insightful.
I can only speak for the army. Maybe some jobs or Mos's should be fused together such as infantry and Cav scout. Maybe soldiers in this one M.O.S. should take a written test or it should be apart of traing for what they will do rather it is walking the patrol, driving, or traffic control points.
I was turned on to be a cav scout, because the definiton was to locate the war and set up the frontlines. When I at my first and only duty station I was told that cav scouts didn't do that in Iraq or Afghanistan.
I think ranger school should be like a promotion for soldiers who excede expectations rather that is their pt test or overall performace. GT scores should be taken into account. MIne was 100 which was average.
I hear that ranger school is easier to get into then navy seal training. I don't know too much about the navy.

The Man and the adventures of back hair

The Man considered himself an artist, although he received no reconignition. His girlfriend paid the rent. He worked odd jobs to yardwork to washing dishes.When a firend or aquaintance asked about his art.
The Man said,"I explore all mediums."
This sounded great but all mediums weren't explored. Truthfully his art was welding, camping, and drinking beer with good conversation. When he had some pocket money he went to the record store which was a block away from his apartment he shared with his girlfriend.
It was a three bedroom apartment which was expensive. The man and his girlfreind shared a bedroom, but the other two rooms were there's individually. HIs girlfreind called his room the Man cave.
The man cave contained stereo equipment with a closet full of records, and scuptured that he welded.
You are probably wondering why was the Man's girlfreind with him in the first place. The fact was the man's girlfriend always knew where he was at. Even though he couldn't afford a cell phone, the man was either in his man cave, at the record store, or at the community college on borrowed time to weld his scultures. The man was simple with no strings attached. It gave the Man's girlfriends comfort in knowing none of her so called firends thought he was attractive. It gave him comfort in knowing no woman would give him the time of day, and yet she respected him as a kind of cert of artist.
The man didn't give her jewelry like rings her or earrings. The gifts he usually gave were usually scuptures, poetry, or a simple thank you fo being what she was. In the man's words, "She is a rad girlfirend."
They both felt they had it all. However, the man had some (very few) physical qualities that repose his girlfreind. She didn't mind his love handles or slight beer gut. One thing that they constantly argued about was his back hair.
She would intiate it by saying,"YOu know the salon can wax that hair right off."
This was while they were embracing. The Man had his shirt off and the girlfreind's hands were stroking the curly hair on his back.
"If you pay to get it waxed, I will grow a beard."
"A beard! YOu don't shave for five days and you say it is itchy." The girlfreind stammered.
"That is just my neck. I can shave my neck and grow my beard out like ZZ Top."
"Will you do it for me?" The girlfreind asked.
"You can curl it, dye it, or brush it but you are not waxing my back." The man anwsered again.
"It is already curled." The girlfriend yelled.
"So dye it red," the Man laughed," you are already brushing it."
They stopped embracing one another but their arms and hands were still touching their sides.
"Do it for me." The girlfriend said.
"I am not one of those guys you use to date. You already got me going to that salon. It would be more economical to just shave my head."
"Thanks for going to the salon. Tell you what if you wax your back, you can dye your hair at the salon, whatever color you want."
"What about the beard?" The man asked.
"NO beard. You can have red hair and a bald back." The girlfreind answered.
"How about a straight razor?" The man asked.
"Wax." The girlfrirend answered.
"I want purple hair and a mustache that is orange."
"Why don't you go back to school and become a lawyer. You are good at arguing."
The girlfreind kissed him on the cheek. The man weakened.
"Purple hair, no mustache, and a bald back." The man concluded.
The girlfreind stopped kissing him, excited.
"Really! Come on the salon isn't busy today. They are taking walkins. I will make it worth your wild!"
"Beer?" The man asked.