Meet Lindsay. She can’t get “Informer” by Snow out of her head. Now it will be in yours too- you’re welcome. She got a puppy yesterday and is severely sleep-deprived. The last two days she and her family have waaaay overdone the treats so he had diarrhea on her seagrass rug this afternoon. She cleaned it up in front of four kids under the age of 10 while loudly gagging the whole time as they held their noses. They’ve all asked repeatedly why he keeps licking “down there”. She’s not sleeping well otherwise either, and has some pretty flashy melatonin and CBD supplements going in her 90’s bathroom right now. All to no avail. She’ll still have to pee at least once and then phantom pee at least two more times. She’ll be hot for two cumulative hours with 2-minute cold snaps sprinkled in. Her earrings are from Target and so is her bra. Her feet have never looked this bad.
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....
