THEY CARE ABOUT ME

Sometimes I feel so fortunate; I have several reasons.  One is the feeling of being cared for, being special to people and knowing that they are doing so many wonderful things for me.  It can be quite an overwhelming feeling, and it occurs frequently.

One of the most awe-inspiring feelings of being loved and being very special is when I see the local television station come on and talk about how much I mean to them.  It goes like this; first the attractive redheaded weather lady is shown in her kitchen handing out the lunch bags to her children.  While she is busy doing this chore she tells me about how even though she has all of these things to accomplish the most important item is making sure that she is going to be on the television to keep me informed about the weather.  I really get that, and then she shows how she might be working around her house or biking on a trail, but all of it is secondary to being there for ME, JUST ME.  I apologize for getting a little choked up, but to know that everything she does is just to make sure that she is THERE for ME just kinda blows me away.  And then another girl, this one with dark hair and a pretty yellow dress comes on and starts talking ‘bout how I am so AWFULLY important to her, what with keeping me informed about the local scene.  She has a beautiful smile and a great figure and I find myself feeling grateful to just be in her thoughts.  Then a nice black man comes on talking about how much I mean to him and how much he appreciates me; I tell you that little spot is terrifically appreciated by me, what with February being Black History Month and all.

Another, and even more fulfilling event, is when the gorgeous, curvaceous black lady appears.  She talks about something called “Car Barrier”, a company that is looking out for me.  Near as I can figger it is for people who have older cars that are not covered by a warranty, whatever that is.  Her name is Vivacia and she has such a personal way about her as she looks at me; it’s almost like she is standing in my living room— I wish.  She is very tuned into my needs relative to my automobile—talks about it incessantly, not that I mind.  Actually I find it quite delightful, especially some of the terms she uses when she is talking to me.  Sometimes she refers to me as “dears” and other times “darlings”.  I think she says “dears” when she is in the purple dress and “darlings” when she changes to the orange one; she is stunning in both of them, what with her beautiful figger and her long eyelashes.  Guess I am purty crazy ‘bout her, but there is one thing that is a little bit worrisome.  I did go to school some and I DO know the difference between singular and plural; fact is the 55^th anniversary of my graduatin’ eighth grade is coming up this October, or so I hear through sources.  Bottom line is it sounds a little impersonal to me, like she is talking to some other men too.  This did not occur to me until just the other day, and I have been seeing her for at least two months.  Kinda knocked me down into the dumps for a few days until I figgered it out.  Ya know that people of different races and different backgrounds have sorta different ways of talking and expressing themselves, so I have concluded that they ain’t nothin’ to it and that when she uses that plural it is just a figger of speech and that our relationship is still goin’ strong. 

I guess I was still feelin’ a little punkish ‘bout this whole thing so I decided to put it to the litmus test to make sure I was reading things right, so I asked Toby.  He was sittin’ over on the sofa nearby so I just up and asked him if my thinking was spot on.  ‘Course I gave him all the background and he talked it over with Lucy, who had just come in, and then Toby said that I was one hundred percent right.  I suppose he sorta felt like he had done me a big favor, settin’ my mind at ease and everything, so he started rubbin’ against my leg and Lucy joined him.  I knew what to do then so I got up and filled up their Friskies bowl.