Meet Carson. She’s a mom to a toddler and a brand new baby, but OH BABY you should have seen her 3 years ago! Carson, in spite of only being in her mid-thirties, was a hair metal band groupie. That always seemed more within reach than current bands. She was quite a sight in that front row, crop top showing bottom boob, long wild hair, devil horn hands thrust up in the air, making suggestive faces at Tommy Lee. Carson was always just coming off of a round of penicillin or Valtrex. She wasn’t bothered by Axl Rose’s paunch or puffy face. She thought Bon Jovi looked just as good with short hair. Her claim to fame was a pregnancy scare with Brett Michaels - that rose definitely had its thorn. Oh but Carson has hours and hours of stories. They would have been better if she were doing this in the 80’s with these guys, because now they were a little more sedentary, but there were still a few wild nights at Chateau Marmont and carnal weeks spent on tour buses. Mostly she found herself skinny dipping in pools at various W hotels or letting the bass player from Ratt feel her up by the ice machine at the Holiday Inn. Finally she ended up falling in love with a roadie from Def Leopard, Stan, and settling down in Orlando. Being a mom has changed her, but a part of her will always be “That slutty groupie, I think her name is Carla. Something like that.” And that’s something she can hang her hat on. Her favorite song is Cherry Pie. 🍒
As Courtney was handed the rule pamphlet, she swore she saw the Da Vinci code. Symbols swirled around, English words became foreign and strange. She somehow now knows how to set up a VCR after reading them, but still does not quite understand how to win atMahjong.
Last week she ordered each of them one of those gadgets that shatters your car window in case of a full water immersion. She also ordered a wind up radio. You know, in case the power grid goes down. She changed the air filters in the house last month, and commented that Olive Garden is a heck of a deal if you get a family sized pan with a five dollar take-home add-on. She’s been cracking open a Bud heavy after yoga class lately, and finally decided to try out a MyPillow.
But here she sits, six years after her appointment with WIDK reporting on milk prices, beauty pageants, the occasional car theft, Alderman election scandals, and downtown green space clean up efforts. This stupid little town doesn’t deserve her. She’s meant for greatness, and she despises their perky greetings on the streets....
