Why Cranky? I originally considered Mawkish Paddler, yeah that fits too, but when I went and checked my FaceBook page I have been irritated non-stop since I signed up. Trying to lead a happy life can be, well, trying. Even when things are going well, something goes haywire. Don’t get me wrong, I have led a charmed life. Ask anyone who really knows about me and they will tell you if I were a cat I would have exhausted all nine lives long ago.  For example:

After Oops I went back to New York, to commiserate. My buddy had to go to a “business” dinner and he suggested that I tag along. Everything was going well until we started drinking. I was a teetotaler and the beverage was ice cold vodka by the glassful, big mistake. I vaguely remember watering someone’s planter in Manhattan and being ably assisted to my friend’s apartment, I think he had to grab me by the scruff of the neck and guide. I was thoroughly sick and messed up my clothes. He told me to take off my clothing, I still was aware enough to complain “but then I’d be naked!” He got me settled on a vomit resistant mat on the floor, for which I was grateful, for by this time the entire room had a tendency to spin.

The next morning I was still drunk and heaving, a friend of my buddy’s stopped by and came into the apartment. I was being introduced before I knew what was going on, so I gamely got to my feet and extended a puke moistened hand. This woman did not even flinch; she looked me over and took my hand. “It’s nice to meet you” she said and I was pleased and lay down again. Meet cute, maybe not.

A couple of days later I was told that the mystery woman was interested in seeing me socially. I was stunned. We got together and I had to ask why she would possibly want to see me considering the way we met. You were introduced to a naked drunk dude; she told she thought I was drunk and disorderly.  Grateful for her intelligent companionship I saw her several times.

In a borrowed apartment we got together and having learned my lesson, asked if she might enjoy being spanked. She said OK and sprawled across my lap. I looked down at her beautiful bottom and wondered how her dark skin would respond to being slapped. I was being very careful. I did not want to upset this lady and was only looking for mutual pleasure and enjoyment. I raised my hand trying to fully savor the moment.

This was a New York apartment, walls and floors very thin. I admit it pretty late but this was important. My vital fantasy was going to come true. At this critical juncture, the fellow in the apartment below started banging on his ceiling, and screaming and yelling. He had to get up early and we were making too much noise, etc. Talk about a mood destroyer, we meekly went to sleep. The next morning, bright and early, the same gentleman spent several minutes banging on the door to display his unhappiness. We did our best to ignore him. That was the last time we ever saw each other.   

Now you know what makes me cranky. Does this tale have moral. Don’t even think about borrowing an apartment in Manhattan, or maybe early to be and early to rise, but most like strike while the iron is hot.

CS