Saturday, 22 January 2011

The Ultimate Groomer

It was going to be fantastic. The Ultimate Groomer. He did hair and nails. He had promised her a pedicure, but the sign said back in five minutes. She held her little Toodle close and busied herself with examining the pesticide she had bought last week.

Most people toy with their mobile or read a magazine. She had a variety of distractions in her purse. "Kills all germs." As she had no immediate relations with ants or cockroaches, she put it to use as a preparation for public toilet seats. The "kills all germs" part had given her a rash. She'd have to pass it to a neighbor.

Perhaps Edward would like it. He was always giving her things. He got the "best neighbor" ribbon. They spent hours on the phone even though he lived five doors down. Rarely touched each other's knockers. They talked stocks, gardening, recipes, and people they had seen out the window.

They completely overlooked the fact that they could have their conversations in private face to face or groin to groin. It saved her from putting on lippy and it saved him from clearing the dishes. They both did things differently. In that way, they were alike, but they were not equally eccentric. No. Adelaide had won that ribbon seven years in a row.

She looked in her mystery tin closet. Some people collect pewter spoons or soaps from holiday destinations. They cram the attic with toys that they think will be collectors' items in twenty years' time. Adelaide's collection was particular-the mystery tins of aisle nine. She had a special affection for the orphaned tins of fruit, custard, and anonymous spaghetti that had lost their labels. They sat like puppies at a dog shelter waiting to be chosen and saved from the skip. She loved to rescue them. She loved the surprise she'd get opening them up weeks or months later. The wondering over as to what was inside.


She chose one that had dust on top. The dust-permanently held in place by the invisible settling of grease. She chose another as it had a slight dent but she could tell from what was left of the label that it was lychees.

I'll call you back once I've taken care of this mouse. She didn't like Edward's advice--exterminator? No. She had the mouse cornered....blocked in with a cardboard box. She went to her mystery tin closet and pulled a few tins. Death by Spaghetti...she threw the spaghettios at the mouse hoping to drown him and therefore asphixiate it. The mouse kept running leaving a spaghettio trail along the hallway carpet. She opened more tins and fired.

Perhaps she should get a cat. She looked at Toodle. She could never trade him in for a cat. The door jingled and woke her from the messy mouse adventure of the previous evening. The groomer was back. She laid Toodle down and took off his tartan raincoat. Some pee stains....she'd have to get it dry-cleaned.

"Pink today. "
The groomer choked back a smirk as he reached for the varnish. Pet pedicures. He had thought it up with her in mind. He performed magic on her giving her a menu of increasingly bizarre things she could do for her pet. He loved and hated his clients. He was both delighted and disturbed that people would pay so much to have their dog's claws manicured. By the time he was done with Toodle, he had enough for a three course dinner for two at Elaine's. He was glad there were such idiots in town. She was a regular. He couldn't complain.


DOGBOY said...

totally drawn in and delivered by the journey... excellent.

DOGBOY said...

totally drawn in and delivered by the journey... excellent.

Joanne Samantha Morgan said...

Thank you. It's nice to know. This snippet is based on the fact that there really is a woman in Maida Vale who kills mice with spaghettios and really has a mystery tin closet.