1

. "Be creative," my brother Yevengy was saying, "and if that doesn't work, just be yourself." He laughed.

"Hey, I may not be a hot shot New York City advertising executive, but that doesn't mean I'm obtuse."

"When it comes to women you are Kid-O. Let me know how you make out." And he hung up the phone.

I fixed myself a stiff one and sat down in the Lazy Boy®, and drank it--the Scotch, not the recliner--then flipped on the tv and had three more while I waited for Tony Rob-erts to have a cerebral hemorrhage. By the time I got out of there I was an hour late and a dollar short; but the alcohol had given me enough bravado not to care, so I didn't.

2.

"Come-on in lover boy, I'm waiting," I heard a voice acknowledge my arrival, even before my finger was off the doorbell. I opened the door and stepped in. "I'm up here," she sang.

I stuck my fingers in my ears. "Where would that be?" I was Ulysses.

"In the bedroom of course. Hurry darling."

I followed a plastic runner across the foyer and up a flight of stairs and crashed into the bedroom. I found her--in repose . "Hi," I said. "My name's Boris, remember me."

"Aren't you the one who brought me home last night," she blushed. "Did you get lost?"

"Uh, no, actually I lost track of time."

"Time is so fleeting, don't you think. Lets not waste any more of it."

I sat down on the bed. "And reading is fundamental."

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"Why don't you take off your coat and stay awhile. You can put it over there on the chair. Would you like a drink?"

I got up from the bed and walked over to the chair. "Do you have any quinine, I think I might be coming down with malaria."

"Come over here and sit on the bed and let me feel your brow. I was a yo-yo, and she was pulling my string. "You do feel a little warm. Have you been overseas recently?"

"Hawaii, does that count."

"I'm afraid not. Was it business or pleasure?"

"Was what business or pleasure?"

"Your trip to Hawaii, silly."

"Oh, that would have been business. Pleasure is something that I rarely bump into. I work for a major accounting firm, you might have heard of them, Lambert, Stelton, and Landrey LLC.

"I'm afraid I haven't."

She was frightening. "Well I was doing an audit for a macadamia grower over there. They were all nuts." I waited.

"OH, A joke, how quaint, would you like that drink now, I'm afraid all I have is champagne. It's downstairs. Would you be a dear and get us some."

"Uh, sure, in the wine cellar, it be." I was talking like Yoda now.

"NO silly, where would I keep a wine cellar in an apartment."

"In the cellar?" I made a bee-line for the door, but she must have been part abo-rigine: from out of nowhere she produced a six foot long blow-gun, and a dart came flying after me.

Thwack. "It's in the kitchen dear."

"Thanks, honey."

3.

When I got back upstairs she was gone, to the bathroom I suppose, to freshen up, so I put the champagne on the dresser and popped my cork. I poured us each four fingers full; then, after about five minutes, the bathroom door swung open and goldy-locks stuck her head out--she didn't look any fresher. "Miss me?" she inquired. It was a rhetorical question.

We headed back over to the bed. "So how would you like me to proceed?" I asked. Any particular points of interest I should visit first?"

She whispered something, it might have been in French, or possibly Swahili, I'm not sure; unbuttoned her pants and lay prostrate before me, waiting. "I'm ready darling," she offered.

I looked at her, and she reminded me of a Twinky® with a torn wrapper, so I put my mouth on her belly-button and tried sucking out her cream filling; then when none came out, rolled her over and began searching for an expiration date or a factory code that I could use when I wrote to the Twinky® company: no delicious cream filling inside, it would say, I feel cheated, please explain.

"Come on honey, let's get down to business," she said.

"I'm all business," I replied. I had her raise her arms so I could remove her shirt and then she helped me get her pants off. I began massaging her back..

"Ooooooo, lower." I worked my way down. "That's it, right there."

"Here?" I said "

"No, A little bit lower…right there," she cooed. I stopped She cork-screwed to one side and looked up at me. "What are doing?" she de-manded. "Why did you stop?"

"I'm going to need these," I explained. "To send along with my letter to the Twinky® company."

She flipped over--sunny side up--pulled off her Calvin's and handed them to me. "Sure, take them." She shimmied her yokes. "But why would the Twinky® company want my underwear?

"You know that little tag? inspected by so and so? Well, Calvin Kline is that guy, he's the one who's responsible."

"Responsible for what?" she looked puzzled

"They forgot to fill you up with delicious cream filling," I stated matter-of-factly.

She thought for a moment. "Why don't you do it then. Here, let me show you. In here," she said, "it should go in here."