Meet Dorian. Dorian is the biggest asshole you know. In early September he sailed up the east coast from south Florida to the Outer Banks and she's talked about it nonstop for weeks. It was all "teak" this and "starboard" that. Douchebag. Dorian is that guy that says he's coming to stay, so you stock up. But then he takes FOREVER to get there - one minute he's coming, next minute he's decided to stay over in the Bahamas for obnoxiously long (they hate him there). By the time he does get to your house, you're hammered and you've had 5x the carbs you intended (he's a fat shit so you got all junk food). He completely trashed your house, is full of bluster and hot air, and wet the bed. You have missed 3 days of work, have a terrible headache and have to spend two days cleaning up after him. Last I heard he was heading out to the Atlantic for God knows where. What a douchebag.
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....
