It was a beautiful evening, Dr. Dawg and I were sitting on the patio of an exclusive club, in a fashionable, trendy neighborhood, sipping smooth Kentucky bourbon, and expensive, imported beer. Life had rarely looked so promising. It was so wonderful we were both wearing sunglasses despite the gathering dusk.
"We should have some grilled shrimp with picante, and chili peppers." Dr. Dawg said, as a pretty girl walked by, smiled, and patted him on the head. I swear, the ladies love that Dawg. Looking around and trying to get the attention of our waitperson, I heard the unmistakable sound of Elvis singing "Hound Dog" echoing off the glass table top and the half full pint glasses. Showing that Dawg how to change his ring tone was a big mistake. Who knew there were so many songs about dogs? It will be awful when he discovers the Baha Men.
He answered it quickly, "Dr. Dawg, talk to me." He nodded his head several times, saying "I see," and "yes, yes." After several minutes he ended the call with, "don't worry, I will handle this."
Looking me in the eye, he drank down the last bit of his delicious, golden, European draft, rushed inside to the restroom, and reappeared as Candidate Dawg, jumping onto a table top, and began to speak in a clear, promising, compassionate voice.
 |
| Reenactment |
Just as quickly, he hurried off, and came back, sunglasses, and flowered shirt, ready for a relaxing evening as a private citizen. Campaign contributions deposited, email addresses secured, and another victory for democracy, free enterprise, and capitalism, all in all a pretty good evening, for our hero.
No comments:
Post a Comment