Picasso and Snickers - Part 2 - Rupert, Brenda and Debbie

Rupert felt sleepy behind the wheel of his ‘65 Chevy as he waited for the old car to warm up. So he rolled down the window to let in some of that snowy fresh air.

Ten years ago, when he first met his wife Brenda, she thought rolling down the window was the funniest thing.

“A girl’s really got to work for her ride around here,” she said.

Rupert and Brenda had attended the same creative writing class at the local high school. On that particular August night in 2003, Brenda’s car wouldn’t start and Rupert offered her a ride home.

“Awful nice of you, Rupert,” she said. “Now how about cranking up the air conditioning? It’s awful hot in here.”

“No air conditioning, I’m afraid,” said Rupert. “You’ll have to roll down the window.”

“Well, isn’t that quaint,” said Brenda. “Does it have an engine? Or do we to power it like Fred Flintstone?”

“Very funny,” said Rupert. “It happens to have a very sound V8 engine. And it’s original to the car, too. Which happens to be a ‘65 Chevy Impala. I got it used when I was sixteen. It was my first and only car.”

“Sweet,” said Brenda. “A sixteen year old with a convertible. You must have been popular with the ladies in your day, Rupert. How’s it working for you now that we’ve reached the 21st century and a lady no longer has to struggle with mundane things like roll-down windows?”

“You’re getting in some zingers, aren’t you?” said Rupert. “And everything’s working just fine. I just don’t date as much as I used to. I’m very selective these days.”

“Is that what their calling middle-aged single men who take creative writing classes. Don’t tell me you’re actually interested in writing?”

“Of course I am,” said Rupert. “Why on earth would I spend my hard earned money to sit at a desk that’s three times smaller than my fat ass can tolerate?”

“Those chairs are pretty small,” said Brenda. “Speaking of fat asses, mine could sure use a few less Snickers bars.”

“Your ass is just fine,” said Rupert.

That was the thought in his head. But he shocked himself when the words came out of his mouth. Then he cringed, and braced himself for Brenda’s reaction.

“Why, Rupert,” said Brenda. “I didn’t think you were paying attention. Thank you.”

“I didn’t mean for it to come out like that,” said Rupert. “Sorry.”

“You don’t have to explain,” said Brenda. “I’ve been around all kinds of men. I know a real compliment when I hear one. So, Rupert, you have any plans for dinner? Maybe we could get a bite to eat. I know a great diner just up the road. And maybe you can tell me all about living in that 20th century of yours. I’m dying to hear all about this fancy cassette player of yours. And please tell me this Air Supply cassette isn’t yours.”

Rupert smiled at the memory. Two Less Lonely People in the World would become their wedding song. And Brenda didn’t make one snide remark during their wedding dance. In fact, she cried.

Then he heard a voice and snapped out of his revery.

“Sir,” said the voice. “Excuse me, sir.”

It was the girl from Johnson’s department store.

“Sorry to bother you, sir. But could you give me a ride to the diner?”

“How do you usually get home from work?” said Rupert.

“My mom picks me up,” said Debbie. “But I need to leave sooner than expected. And my mom works at the diner.”

“I guess I can do that,” said Rupert. “Hop in.”

Debbie scooted around to the passenger side and got in the car.

“You didn’t run off with the days take from Johnson’s did you?” said Rupert. “I hear a police siren.”

“Well, it’s not for me,” said Debbie. “Unless you can get arrested for decorating some skanky girl’s car keys.”

“Come again?” said Rupert.

“After you left the store,” said Debbie, “my shithead ex-boyfriend showed up with his hideous new girlfriend. And, if you can believe it, he wanted me to show him where the boxes of Valentine’s Day candy were, so he could quote, ‘buy his sweetie a box of chocolates,’ unquote. Eeeew! I could just scream! But I kept my cool. Then, as we were walking down the aisle, she kept twirling her damn car keys around her finger and making kissy noise at Brian. It just started jangling my nerves and something in me snapped. Then, as we passed the paint department, Harold was opening a can of paint to show a customer how the mix came out. That’s when I grabbed the car keys out of her hand and dumped them in the can of paint. Titanium blue, if you must know. Harold, the paint man, also happens to be the manager. That’s when I got canned."

“Pretty funny pun,” said Rupert.

“What’s a pun?” said Debbie.

“Never mind,” said Rupert. “It’s not important. And I can’t say I agree with your revenge methods, dear girl. But I have to admire your chutzpah. That was a pretty crappy thing those kid’s did to you.”

“Chutzpah?” said Debbie.

“Let’s just say you’ve got spunk,” said Rupert. “Not a bad thing to have in this world of ours. But it did get you fired. So, now what?”

“Now I ask you to close the window, please,” said Debbie. “It’s freakin’ freezing in here.”

“So sorry,” said Rupert. “Let me roll it up.”

“Wow,” said Debbie. “This car’s a real dinosaur.”

“You sound like my wife,” said Rupert.

“Sorry,” said Debbie. “I didn’t mean to be rude. I guess I’m just a little cranky. It was my first job and now I muffed things up pretty good and I’ll probably never work ever again. I’ve ruined everything.”

“How old are you?” said Rupert.

“Sixteen,” said Debbie.

“I’ve go news for you,” said Rupert, “You’ll work again. And by the time the world is through with you, you’ll look back on these days as the happiest time in your life. I suggest you embrace it while you have the energy.”

“You sound so smart,” said Debbie. “But I have no freakin’ what you’re talking about.”

“Not the first time I’ve heard that,” Rupert.

“Sorry,” said Debbie. “I’m being rude again.”

“Not at all,” said Rupert. “You’re just being sixteen, is all. You ever think of working at a book store?”

“No,” said Debbie. “I’m not much of a reader.”

“I’m not asking you to read books,” said Rupert. “I’m asking you to sell books. And occasionally, coffee. That’s the only reason some people seem to come into bookstores these days. For the coffee. Brenda tells me I’ve got to get with the times.”

“You have a book store?” said Debbie.

“The Chelsea Book Shop on Morgan Avenue,” said Rupert. “I’ve been there for thirty years.”

“You offering me a job?” said Debbie.

“I guess I am,” said Rupert. “I can start you off on the weekends. Saturday’s and Sunday’s from nine to three.”

“Nine?” said Debbie. “In the morning?”

“Nine in the morning,” said Rupert. “I know it’s probably against your religion or something. But today’s Wednesday, so you have three days to think about it. If you decide to show up. Show up early. With a smile on your face and a willingness to get things done the proper way. I’ll introduce you to Brenda. She’s a peach.”

“Thank you," said Debbie. “I’ll think about it."

Rupert pulled into the diner parking lot and watched as Debbie made her way into the diner.

“Ah,” he said. “Bless the beasts and the children.”

Then he slipped the Carpenter’s greatest hits cassette into the player and drove off into the snowy night.