A Funny Thing Happened...

Hello, I'm Steve Shuffle and I just made partner at the prestigious law firm of Scoot, Scoot, Scoot and Associates.  Did I mention it is a family owned law firm? I think the original Scoot was a friend of Abraham Lincoln. Well, maybe not that old but the firm had been around a long time. It was a real accomplishment to make partner in this family driven law firm. There were many associates that had been running around in their briefs long before I came on board. I think even more of an obstacle was the idea that there might be some confusion with Scoot, Scoot, Scoot, Shuffle and Associates. Was it a law firm or country dance lesson studio?

It was very gracious of Milton Slide, one of those associate's passed over with at least fifteen more years at the firm, to have invited me to the formal party for his son's graduation. I wasn't sure if it was college or law school graduation but as a new partner I needed a tux in my closet anyway. It didn't take long to lighten my bank account by six hundred bucks for, basically, a black suit with a frilly shirt that I thought would be more at home in mom's closet. The really important decisions I had to make clouded my thoughts. BMW or Mercedes?

I felt pretty spiffy in my new duds 'I'd say debonair', but was still dealing with the ruffles on my new shirt, when I approached the front door of Milton's home. This clown met me at the door and asked me if I was the magician? I'm not talking about some bozo dude holding four cards and talking full house. This guy had a flaming red ball of hair, painted face with the big red nose, a real clown. I told him no and scooted around him to enter the house. 

A woman welcomes me to her home, late twenties I guessed, so I tell her I am a guest of her fathers. Well it turns out she is Mrs. Milton number three and as I looked beyond her into the living room I realized the eye level of the other guests would hit my new cumber bun. It seemed little Johnny, her son from a previous matrimonial disaster, had successfully completed six years of elementary school. Milton, of course in his glory, walked over in his shorts and Who Concert T-shirt with a broad grin and a 'so glad you could make it'. 

I'm a smart guy and understood that this graciously passed over associate was clarifying that the joke was on me.  Options ran rapidly through my mind with 'score one for Milton' leading them. Actually what was going through my mind was score two for Milton because Mrs. Milton number three was a ten, but beyond the numbers, I was pissed. If I showed it though, he would win. So this smart guy, needing time to regroup, reached out and shook Milton's hand with a thank you for inviting me. Then with the best tooth paste commercial smile I could muster I turned to Mrs. Milton number three and gave her a friendly hug. It must have been my unstable footing causing my hands to accidently slide down below her waste and I still believe it was a moan not a gasp she uttered. The accidental grabbing her ass did force me to reevaluate my earlier thought, she was clearly a twelve and a half.

I reluctantly moved past her in the door way to congratulate the guest of honor for his choice to move forward in his reach for an education over a life on the streets. He was easy to spot in the crowd of waist high party goers as he wore a crown on his head. I knelt down and congratulated Johnny for his distinguished achievement and we spoke about what lay ahead for him. A short conversation and after giving the matter several minutes of serious thought he informed me it was the seventh grade. I made a mental note to get this kid to a poker table one day. 

I noticed Milton had finally stopped laughing at me the penguin towering over his guests and I wandered into the kitchen.  Finding a large glass and bottle of vodka it occurred to me I needed a drink. It should have also occurred to me after accidently grabbing Mrs. Milton number three's twelve and a half and not to mention still dealing with the fu-fu new shirt that just maybe I wasn't in the most stable of conditions. When I accidently tripped at the fruit punch bowl and spilled my entire drink, grateful that I didn't spill a drop on the table cloth, I was convinced it was time to go home. 

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