by Marty Coleman | Feb 20, 2018 | Illustrated Short Stories |
The Short Order Cook
He stood exceedingly still. Not for a moment or a minute, but for many minutes at a time. This happened at least 3 times while I was eating at the counter. He looked in the fridge at one point. He waved goodbye to a customer, not saying anything. He checked under the grill for something when the counter waitress asked if they needed to reorder something. Otherwise he was still.
I had stopped in on a whim. It’s a very small hamburger joint, really just a counter and a cooking area with windows all around. I had passed it many times over 24 years of living in Tulsa, but had never gone in. Now I was out enjoying my birthday. I had already stopped by a coffee house to draw and a museum to wander and now it was lunch time. I passed the place and decided today would be a perfect day to finally stop in. I did a u-turn and made my way in to a seat at the counter.
There was another cook behind the counter and he was the one who made my lunch. I ordered a patty melt (my favorite type of burger) and fries, with a Dr. Pepper. It was not a diet day for me, obviously. The waitress didn’t really need to do much since the cook could hear me say my order and had it going before the waitress had it fully written down. She went around the corner into the back of the place and I didn’t see her until the minute my food was put on the plate, at which point she magically appeared to pick it up and walk it the 5 feet from the grill to my spot. She then turned around and in no more than 3 steps poured me my drink and gave it to me. She was all about the efficiency of movement.
While I was eating I drew this cook. He didn’t notice me drawing since he was staring out the window in what seemed like a daze. I imagined him seeing a fully made hamburger floating away out the window in front of him. I imagined him wishing he could follow. In the meanwhile, the meal was perfect. The patty melt was greasy, the fries were crisp and the drink was obnoxiously sweet.
As I left I said goodbye to the waitress and waved to the two cooks. I headed out the door and as I did I heard the waitress say, “You gonna move outa my way Bobby?” and the cook who stood exceedingly still said, “I really should.”
The End
Drawing and story © 2018 Marty Coleman | napkindad.com
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by Marty Coleman | Jan 10, 2018 | Adventures of Young Medusa |
Medusa Walks the Runway –
Medusa decided she wanted to be a model. She went to Stone Mountain Modeling School and got a job as a runway model. She walked for the famous House of Gorgon but wore an outfit no one really liked. They sat stone-faced as she walked by and, Medusa being Medusa, you know what happened next.
The End
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by Marty Coleman | Nov 30, 2017 | Illustrated Short Stories, Sketchbook History Tour |
Chapter One
The woman saw herself as flawed, always. She didn’t like how selfish she was, how greedy. She didn’t like her judgmental attitude towards so many people and things. She felt she wasn’t a very good wife or mother. She knew she was not as helpful as she could be to her co-workers and she was too snippy with her bosses. She didn’t make enough money but she spent too much and didn’t give enough away she thought. She didn’t call her sisters enough, or her mom and dad. She didn’t like her looks. Her face was too thin, her breasts too small and her butt too big is how she saw it. She thought her skin was too pale and her hair too straggly. The only thing she liked about her self was her tattoo. She died in a car wreck at age 30.
Chapter Two
After she died her community commissioned a famous sculptor to create monument to her because she was the best, most loving person anyone in the community had every come across. The sculpture said love all over it because that is what she was all about.
The End
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by Marty Coleman | Oct 13, 2017 | Art, Illustrated Short Stories, Sketchbook History Tour |
Chapter One
The woman thought about her selves and didn’t feel anything but.
The End
Drawing and short story © 2017 Marty Coleman | napkindad.com
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by Marty Coleman | Oct 1, 2017 | I Draw in Church, Sketchbook History Tour |
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by Marty Coleman | Sep 24, 2017 | Sketchbook History Tour |
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by Marty Coleman | Mar 19, 2017 | Illustrated Short Stories, Marty Coleman |
Chapter One
It was two in the afternoon when I noticed the two. The two were self-involved and didn’t see the other one. I notice that one had two distinct colors, her hair and her dress. I noticed the other one had two things strange about him, he was wearing sunglasses inside and he was mumbling to himself.
Chapter Two
It was two oh two when I started drawing the one. It took me two minutes. It was two twenty two by the time I drew the other one. It was two forty two by the time I drew everything in between and around the two.
Chapter Three
After I was done I drew three more drawings of three more people, neither one of whom knew the other two. That took me until three twenty two. I waited three weeks before I colored the drawing of the two. It took me a total of two hours at three different times to finish the one.
The End
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by Marty Coleman | Feb 16, 2017 | A. A. Milne, Discovery - 2017 |
Purchase the original | Purchase a print
Forgetful Rememberings
I consider myself to be average level forgetful. Not terrible, but not an iron-clad rememberer either. BUT…just now I remembered I have to be sure to get program shirts for two participants in my running program, something I forgot yesterday. I also have remembered 3 times overnight that I need to bring the car in today for a check up, something I forgot in between those rememberings. I also have forgotten where I have put my gloves or glasses or something, only to find them in a pocket of a coat I haven’t worn in a month.
Disorganized
But does that mean I am disorganized? Not really. It means my organization works well in some ways and not well in others. How does it work well? By having visual reminders. Being an artist, I am all about the visual. If I have a visual signal I more often than not will know what it is I am supposed to be doing, where something might be, when I should be somewhere. Once again, it is iron-clad, but it is reliable. That is why I like having a calendar, writing notes to myself, leaving things out where I can see them.
How does it not work well for me? When I put something out-of-order and don’t give myself a way to later clue myself into what it is I did. This could be wearing a jacket I barely ever wear and leaving my gloves in them when I take it off. It means scheduling something that barely ever happens, like a dentist appointment or car check up, and thinking I will just miraculously remember it a month or six months later. That’s not going to happen.
The Ultimate
Of course the ultimate rememberer for me would be an assistant. Then THEY would be the ones who would have to figure out some kind of trick to remember all the things I need to remember!
How do you remember well?
Drawing and commentary © 2017 Marty Coleman | napkindad.com
“One of the advantages of being disorganized is that one is always having surprising discoveries.” – A. A. Milne, 1882-1956. English author primarily known for his ‘Winnie-the-Pooh’ series of children’s books.
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by Marty Coleman | Sep 2, 2016 | Decision Making - 2016, Edwin Markham |
Purchase the original | purchase a print | matte and frame available
Not Judging
We had a discussion on Periscope the other day about decision making. It was about this idea and the idea in the blog post before this one, about not judging life events as good or bad, just experience them with minimal judgment. It would lead to less stress and anxiety and more happiness and peace.
People of Faith
Not easy to do of course, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be done. But how? Many people would say by having faith. But I have been in the Christian church now going on 40 years and I have seen very few people who don’t fret just as much about the future as those who don’t attend church and say they don’t believe in God, afterlife, etc. That doesn’t mean people of faith don’t talk a good game, they do. The script is all there in the bible that you just don’t have to worry. Paul says it again and again in his letters. Peter says it, Jesus says it. It’s a big part of Christianity. But barely anyone (that I know at least) actually lives it out in day to day practice.
The Avoidance List
Why is that? What is it about the unknown future that we really fear? Death? Pain? Discomfort? Does fearing those things help us avoid them? Well, we know we can’t avoid death so that obviously is a problem. But we can avoid it for a while, right?
Here is a list to help you avoid death:
- Eat well
- Exercise well
- Have really good genetics
- Don’t step on a land mine
Same goes for pain. Here is a list to avoid pain:
- Do nothing aggressively physical
- Don’t get in any relationships
- Don’t have kids
- Don’t get blown up on a boat (I didn’t avoid that)
And if you want to avoid discomfort? Here is what you should do.
- Never meet people, cultures or ideas you don’t understand or like.
- Never get a brazilian wax job
- Never eat hot chili peppers
- Never wear tight pants, tight bras or tight hats.
All those ways can be summed up in one rule. Don’t do anything. That will help you avoid all those terrible things in life.
Ok, I Lied
The truth is a life of couch sitting, of never thinking or experiencing anything new is living death. Seeing all the fun, vitality and love others are experiencing in life is a greater pain emotionally and physically than going out and experiencing the world and the risks in it. And by far the deepest discomfort in life is realizing you are afraid of everything.
So, get out there, open that gate, swim that ocean, climb that hill. You will experience discomfort, pain and yes, even death eventually. But the alternative? You are already dead.
Drawing and commentary © 2016 Marty Coleman | napkindad.com
Quote by Edwin Markham, 1852-1940, American Poet
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by Marty Coleman | Aug 20, 2016 | Illustrated Short Stories |
Buy the original | buy a print | matte and frame are available
Chapter One – Ella Goes
Chapter Two – Ella Drinks
Chapter Three – Ella Looks
Chapter Three – Ella Realizes
Chapter Four – Ella Blushes
Chapter Five – Ella Points
Chapter Six – Ella Laughs
Chapter Seven – Ella Speaks
Chapter Eight – Ella Listens
Chapter Nine – Ella Argues
Chapter Ten – Ella Laughs Again
Chapter Eleven – Ella Gets Married
The End
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by Marty Coleman | Jun 30, 2016 | Illustrated Short Stories |
Very Short Story #1
The Man
The man texted the stranger from the dating app but didn’t know the person was sitting right next to him at the coffee place. Later they would laugh when telling the story of how they met.
The End
Very Short Story #2
The Woman
The woman looked at the stranger’s picture on the dating site and liked what she saw. Then she realized the woman in the picture was actually sitting outside the window at the cafe. She went and introduced herself. They became best friends and would laugh when they told the story of how they met.
The End
Very Short Story #3
The Violinist
The violinist stared at the person in church, sure she knew him from somewhere. He came up to her afterwards and said they went to high school together. They got married a year later and always laughed when they told the story of how they found each other again.
The End
Drawings and Short Stories © 2016 Marty Coleman | napkindad.com
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by Marty Coleman | Jun 17, 2016 | George Bernard Shaw, Love and Hate - 2016 |
Buy the original (this version only is available) | Buy a print
Buy a print
Infinite Versions
I came up with the idea of the drawing at the top first. But then I thought more about it and realized that it needed a second illustration so I drew the two men on a separate napkin. Then I thought of another version and drew it. Then I thought of another one, and another one. Then I realized there are infinite versions of the coward hating someone who intimidates them. In America alone you can see a hatred of Muslims (or more accurately, pretty much everyone from the Middle East, Muslim or not), LGBTs, women, African-Americans, gun owners, gun regulators, Democrats, Republicans, Chinese, Mexicans (or anyone speaking Spanish), Jews. rich people, poor people, celebrities, disabled, Atheists, Christians, Goths, Pageant Queens, fat people, thin people and more. The list is indeed infinite.
The Box marked X
The simple truth is, the coward can’t handle figuring out a way to live with one or more of these groups. They don’t want to struggle with the difficult emotional and psychological work of opening their mind to try to understand these other people. That takes courage. It’s much easier to simply categorize whatever group is intimidating you into being unworthy of your attention and contemplation. Just put them in the box marked X and hate the box. It’s so much easier.
The Danger
It’s also so much more dangerous. Of course the obvious danger is what happened in Orlando and South Carolina and on back at different locations for decades now, and that is violence that kills and maims. It is what we most want to avoid. But there is another danger, not as immediately disastrous, but perhaps equally terrible in the long view, and that is a life wasted by hate. Many hateful people aren’t going to go out in a blaze of shame by killing themselves and others. But they are going to live a life of hate and end up on their deathbed having only that hate to show. What a tragedy that is.
Admit It
So, what do you do about it if this is you or someone you love? It’s to admit your intimidation. Admit your fear. Start with what is at the root of it all. That requires courage. But the benefit of summoning that courage instead of hiding in the cave of cowardice is that you get to be in the light. You get to escape the hate and move towards love. And once you escape it in one area of your life, it gets to be infectious. Loving becomes easier, it becomes something you want, something you look forward to, something you can give away with pride. And, it’s something that then starts to transform others around you.
That is worth any level of harsh self-evaluation.
Drawings and commentary © 2016 Marty Coleman | napkindad.com
Quote by George Bernard Shaw, 1856-1950, Irish Playwright
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by Marty Coleman | Apr 11, 2016 | Illustrated Short Stories |
Chapter One – When a Child
When a child Viola loved the violin. She played it every day. Her mother had been a viola player of some renown and had named her one and only daughter in honor of that. But Viola fell for the violin instead. Her mother, Violet, didn’t mind. All she wanted was for her daughter to be happy.
Chapter Two – When an Adult
But when an adult Viola was not happy. She had stopped playing the violin because her girlfriend, Clarina, didn’t like the sound of her practicing and she wanted more than anything to make her girlfriend happy. She thought if she stopped playing her girlfriend would love her more and be happy.
Chapter Three – When a Lover
The happier Clarina became the unhappier Viola became. She didn’t know why but she was very sad most every day. Her therapist, Timpany, said it was because she wasn’t playing the violin any longer. Viola wasn’t sure but she thought it might be true. She decided she would play the violin again, but only when Clarina was not at home.
Chapter Four – When Alone
Viola started to play the violin again. Viola’s neighbor, Mr. Horn, who was french, heard her every morning. He saw Viola in the hall when they were both getting their mail one day. He told her he loved hearing her play, that it made his mornings so relaxing and happy. He told her he was a photographer and asked if one day he might be able to take some photos of her playing. He had been doing a series of musicians and had not yet done a stringed instrument player. She was delighted and said yes.
Chapter Five – When Together
She didn’t tell Clarina, but Viola went to Mr. Horn’s apartment 3 days later to be photographed. He had her stand on the fire escape and he took photos of her with the city in the background. He complimented her again on her playing. It only took about 20 minutes to get all the shots he wanted. Then he offered her some tea, which she accepted. He asked her questions about her playing, her life, her interests. She was happy to have some attention and was sad when he said he had an appointment he had to get to.
Chapter Six – When Apart
Viola was very excited to see the photographs. But she didn’t see or hear from Mr. Horn for a number of weeks. It was making her crazy waiting. It wasn’t just that she wanted to see the photographs but she wanted to see Mr. Horn again. She liked him and felt positive and hopeful when she had been with him. She wanted that feeling again.
Chapter Seven – When Surprised
After 2 months had passed, an interminable amount of time for Viola, she saw Mr. Horn in the hall. He greeted her warmly and apologized profusely for the delay in getting back to her. He invited her right then to his apartment to see the photographs and she of course accepted. She was so surprised to see the photos. She didn’t realize he would convert them to black and white or that they would be so dramatic and emotional. She actually started to cry when she saw them. He embraced her lightly around the shoulders and said, “I hope those are good tears.” She said that she had never actually seen a good photograph of herself playing before and she didn’t realize how moving it was going to be.
Chapter Eight – When in Love
Mr. Horn asked if she would mind if one of the photos was put in an exhibition he was going to have. She immediately agreed that it would be fine. She asked if she could have a small print of the photograph just as a remembrance. He said that was part of the plan. 5 months later the exhibition opened. She went to the opening and saw the print framed for the first time. She cried again. She also whispered to the print when no one was looking, “I love you.” She felt the image speaking it back to her. She was happy.
Epilogue
The next morning she confessed to Clarina she had taken a lover. Clarina was hurt and asked, “Who was it?”, “When did it happen?”, and “Why?”
Viola brought out the little print Mr. Horn had given her and showed it to Clarina and said, “This is my new lover.”
Clarina didn’t understand and never did. Viola and Clarina broke up later that day and Clarina moved out 2 days later. Viola became 3rd Violinist in a local orchestra and was very happy. She also became one of Mr. Horn’s favorite and most popular models. He eventually published a photography book called ‘The Violinist’ that became a big seller for his small publishing company.
Viola and Mr. Horn’s friendship spanned over 30 years. They remained great friends until Mr. Horn died at age 78. Viola helped organize the work he had not yet been able to catalog due to his sickness and led the effort to have one final book published of his work. She succeeded and was very happy for him.
The End
Drawing and story © 2016 Marty Coleman | napkindad.com
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by Marty Coleman | Oct 15, 2015 | Illustrated Short Stories, The Flying Coffee Cup |
The Flying Coffee Cup – An Illustrated Short Story
Chapter One
Amanda had her resume laid out just right. She had her business card just so. She had her lucky necklace on and, embarrassing as it was, her lucky underwear too. She had her coffee ordered and picked up. She was ready for the interview.
He walked in with long strides, letting the door close on the woman coming in behind him. He went straight to the counter, stopping just short of running into the back of the man waiting to order. He took a deep breath and rolled his eyes.
When it was his turn he said to the Barista, “Well, aren’t you cute. Aren’t you going to give me a smile?”
She looked at him and said, “This is my smile today, sorry. What can I get for you.”
“I want a very large cup of your strongest coffee, black.” he answered. When it was delivered by the Barista he said, “Thanks but it would have been nicer for me if you smiled.” He was not smiling as he said it.
Chapter Two
He came over the Amanda’s table and sat down. She put out her hand and said, “Hello Mr. Bendetto, I’m Amanda. It’s nice to meet you.”
He didn’t take her outstretched hand. He just nodded and said, “Let’s get started.”
He asked her a series of questions, all were short and curt. When he was done with the interview, which took all of 10 minutes he stood up and said, “I will let you know.”
She stood up and said, “Thank you. I will wait for your email.” She held out her hand to shake his.
He responded, “Honey, I don’t think you should hold your breath. I expect the job is harder than you can handle.” He walked away without saying goodbye or shaking her hand.
Chapter Three
Amanda was just about to start crying when her coffee cup raised up from the table. It had grown wings and was hovering in front of her. The lid came off partially and talked. It said, “You are more than he thinks you are.”
She stared as the coffee floated back down to the table as the wings disappeared, landing softly and not spilling any of itself. She looked up to see if any other person had witnessed it. It appeared no one had seen the coffee fly except the barista who had served the man his coffee. She was staring at Amanda with her eyes wide and her mouth open.
Amanda got up and walked over to the Barista. “Did you see that?” she asked.
“Yes, I did. And I heard what it said as well. How did that happen and why didn’t anyone else see it?”
Amanda said, “I have no idea. It was very strange. But it said the perfect thing to me, that’s all I know. What is your name?” She asked.
The Barista responded, “I’m Amanda. What’s yours?”
Amanda laughed, “That’s my name as well. Nice to meet you Amanda. I am sorry he was such a jerk to you, I heard him talking to you.”
“Yes, he was. Nice to meet you too Amanda. I overheard a bit of his conversation with you as well. He seemed rude to everyone.” Amanda the Barista said.
“Yep, he was a jerk to me. I was having a job interview with him but it didn’t take me long to realize, even though I am desperate for work, I wouldn’t work for him no matter what.” Said Amanda.
The Barista responded, “I am sorry you are in that situation, but I think you are right. I can’t imagine working for him! What sort of work are you looking for?”
“I’m a bookkeeper. I was helping to run my dad’s business but he sold it and retired recently so I am looking for something else. I just got a divorce so the pressure is on.”
“Oh, that sounds like pressure for sure. You know, you might want to talk to Sylvia, the owner here. Her son, John, has been doing the books but he is about to go to graduate school. I think she might be looking for someone.”
Chapter Four
A week later Amanda the bookkeeper had a new job. She had met with Sylvia the owner and they had gotten along great. The pay wasn’t quite as good as with her father’s business but it was not bad either. She knew she could make it with the salary and the hours.
On her first day she was going to meet with John, the current bookkeeper to start her training. But before he arrived she had to clean out an old desk to use as hers. It had office supplies and a disheveled pile of papers cluttering the drawers. She took them out and was figuring out what to do with them when one piece fell to the ground. She picked it up, turning it over to see if it had anything on the other side.
There, on the other side was a drawing of a coffee cup. A coffee cup with wings. She stared at it with her mouth open until she was interrupted by a male voice saying, “You better watch out, you might catch a fly with your mouth open that wide.” She looked up to see a young man, maybe 30 years old, handsome and with smiling eyes. He reached out his hand. “Hi Amanda, I am John. What’s so astounding?”
She blushed slightly, smiled and said, “Oh, hi. Nice to meet you. Sorry about that. I was looking at this.” She picked up the drawing of the flying coffee cup and showed it to him.
He said, “Oh, THAT’S where that drawing is. I have been wondering where it’s been for least a year or so. Was it in that pile of stuff?” pointing to the mess on the desk.
“Yes, it was. Did you draw it?” she asked.
“Yep, that’s by me. You can just call me Picasso, thank you very much!” he said as he laughed a big, hearty laugh.
“Ok, this is REALLY weird. I was looking at the drawing that way because I’ve seen it before.”
John looked puzzled. “How can that be?”
“I didn’t see this drawing. I saw the actual cup. It actually was my coffee cup last week. After the guy interviewing me left my cup grew wings and flew up to me and spoke. I know it sounds crazy but ask Amanda, she saw it too.”
John stared. It was his turn to have his mouth drop open. “Why is YOUR mouth catching flies now, if I may ask!” said Amanda with a laugh.
John fumbled a bit as he looked down at the drawing that was now in his hands. “You wouldn’t believe it.”
“Try me John.” she said. “After all, I just told you I saw a flying coffee cup.”
Chapter Five
“Ok, but it’s really strange.” he said. “I drew that about 7 years ago when I was 23. I think I even have a date on it, I drew it in April, right? I was just starting to help my mom here at the coffee shop and I had just left a long term relationship. I was stuck in the back of this office and I was feeling lonely and depressed. I drew this coffee cup that was sitting in front of me out of boredom one day. I left it on the desk and went out front to get some fresh air and something to eat. While I was out there I saw the most beautiful, sweet woman sitting at a table with a friend. I actually couldn’t see her very well, I was behind her. But I could see the side of her face and her smile and her beautiful brown hair. It was about the same length and style as yours I think only brown, not blonde. Anyway, she was showing off this incredibly unique diamond engagement ring to her friend. I had never seen anything like it. It was shiny and bright and she was beaming with joy.”
“I came back to the office and sat there wishing I had someone like her. I wished I had her actually. I sort of zoned out and started to draw wings and a mouth on the cup in the drawing as I imagined it flying out the talk to her. I wanted the cup to tell her she was making a mistake, that I was the right one for her. Of course I didn’t have any idea about who she was or what she was about. I didn’t really know if I was the right one for her. I was just wanting to be the right one for someone and I attached my dream to her at the moment.” He looked at Amanda with a look that said please don’t laugh at me.
“I often wonder what happened to her. I really do hope all went really well for her. It’s probably a blessing I didn’t see her face very clearly because if I had gotten a good look I probably would still be looking for her face in everyone I see.” He put the drawing down. “I told you it was a bizarre story.”
Amanda was crying. Big tears were rolling down her cheeks. “John? That woman was me. I was engaged 7 years ago in April and came here with my best friend to show her the ring. I had the same style hair, but then it was brown.”
John sat down. Amanda and John stared at each other for a long time without saying a word.
Epilogue
Amanda went home that afternoon, got the ring that afternoon and brought it back. It was the ring John remembered, very unique and shiny.
A year later John and Amanda were married. Amanda the Barista was a bridesmaid in a small ceremony at a beach about 100 miles away. John and the two Amandas opened a second coffee shop at the beach a year after that called ‘The Flying Cup’. They now have 24 shops at beaches around the world and are known for their story and their flying coffee cup logo.
They eventually sold their story to Universal pictures and it was made into a movie that did pretty well.
The End
Drawing and short story © 2022 Marty Coleman | napkindad.com
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by Marty Coleman | Aug 24, 2015 | 'In The Gallery', Marty Coleman |
Prologue
Dominique was born in France but moved to Chicago when she was just a baby. Her father died when she was seven and her mother raised her as best she could. When she was 18 her mother decided to move back to France but Dominique wanted to stay in Chicago and go to school or get a job.
Chapter One
Dominique went to the gallery opening because the exhibition was titled ‘Pierced’. She saw a flyer for it posted in the back hallway of a club where she danced. She wasn’t really an artsy type of person, she had only been to one museum in her life, but she was excited to go because she loved piercings. She had 20 of them herself and was hoping to get more.
She asked one of the other dancers, who went by the stage name ‘Flame’, if she wanted to go with her but she had no baby sitter for that night. The other girls at the club weren’t really very friendly and most of them sort of scared her. She would have invited her best friend at the club, ‘Trinity’, but she had been arrested for her 3rd DUI two days before and was still in jail.
She decided to go alone though it was very scary for her to do so. She never really went out to anything remotely ‘cultural’ even though she read about a lot of those sorts of events online. In her mind she wasn’t very socially adept, never really knowing what to say. She had gotten better at small talk, working at the club had helped her with that, but she still worried about talking about serious stuff. She had it all in her brain, she thought she was pretty smart after all, but she just sort of froze up when that sort of conversation was in front of her.
Chapter Two
The gallery was in the art district of Chicago. She had never been there and got lost. She felt annoyed with herself for not figuring out how to get there in advance and felt a panic attack coming on. Luckily she found it right about then and was able to calm herself down by doing the breathing exercises she learned about on some fitness website she sometimes followed. She checked her makeup in the rear view mirror, reapplying her eyeliner just a bit and touching up her lipstick.
She dressed how she thought one should dress for an artsy event. She wore heels that weren’t too tall, certainly not her stiletto height that she wore on stage. She had on a maxi skirt, the only one she owned, with a bold blue and gold print. Blue and gold were her favorite colors and they matched her piercings. Her blouse was just a simple pale blue leotard type top. It did a pretty good job of reducing how big her bust looked, which she hoped for since she hated the attention they got when she wasn’t on the job.
Chapter Three
The place had a beautiful sign hanging from the front letting her know the name of the gallery, Foray. The gallery was crowded but not so much so that she couldn’t make her way through. She had to go to the bathroom and asked a cute girl who, in spite of looking about 14 years old, seemed to have a certain confidence standing in the middle of the room, as if she knew the gallery. She pointed to the back of the gallery and said, “Go to the left back there and it’s on the right. I like your piercings, by the way.” Dominique thanked her and went off to find the bathroom.
Dominique chuckled to herself once she left the young girl. So young yet so confident, something she wished she had been at that age. She found the bathroom and relieved herself. There was a big orange vase made out of corrugated cardboard in the corner of her stall. It had a single white PVC pipe sticking out of it with a large paper flower sticking at the end. The flower was blue and gold and looked a lot like the stud coverings she had on her piercings. This made her happy.
Chapter Four
She went back out into the gallery and started to look at the art work. She hadn’t really known what to expect since the flyer didn’t have a picture on it. She assumed it would be pictures of people with piercings, but it was not. It was large paintings of strange scenes. One was of a fat man on a fishing boat catching a giant Marlin. It showed a close up of the hook poking through the fish’s lip. Another was of a woman at a sewing machine. She was in pain with her finger impaled by the needle of the machine. It showed blood all over the sewing machine. It made Dominique wince. There was a very large painting of a man dead on the ground with a big hole in him. Another man was standing over him with a gun that was smoking.
It was all very strange to Dominique. She was repulsed but wanted to look at the same time. She had no idea what any of these paintings had to do with piercings at all. She walked into an area where there was a wine bar and food, which she quickly indulged in. She would have preferred water, her mouth was really dry, but she was hungry and thirsty and that’s what was there. The wine wasn’t very good but the little cracker thingies with the tan-colored spread on them were yummy.
She was going for a second helping when the young girl she had asked direction from came up beside her. “You found the bathroom, right?” she asked.
“Yes, found it fine, thank you” she responded. “I liked the vase with the blue and gold flower, that was cool. Who did that one?”
The young girl laughed, “Ha, that’s mine. It’s the only place my mother let me put it. She’s mean like that!”
Right then a woman who looked surprisingly like the young girl came up. “Are you telling a perfect stranger how mean I am to you? You always make me sound like the worst parent.” She laughed and grabbed the girl around the shoulders from behind and nuzzled her neck.
The young girl looked at Dominique and said, “That’s my mom, if you hadn’t guessed.”
Dominique laughed and said, “I figured. You two look a lot alike. She reached out her hand to the girl, What’s your name?”
The girl answered, “I am Veronique but I go by Vera. This mean person behind me is Cruella.”
Her mother laughed and said, “Yep, that’s me, cruelest mother on earth! Actually, my name is Angelique but I usually go by Angel. Nice to meet you.”
She held out her hand and Dominique shook it. Then she turned to Vera and shook her hand as well. Both hands were warm and strong. It made her feel good. “I am Dominique but I usually am just called ‘Dom’.
“So, what do you think of the art here?” Dom asked.
Vera looked at her mom and was about to speak when her mom said, “I am not sure, what do you think?”
Dom responded, “I like it I think. It’s sort of scary though. I like the colors he uses but I don’t really understand how the paintings relate to the title of the show. I only came to here because I like piercing a lot.”
Before she could continue Vera said, “I sort of got that.”
Her mother said, “Don’t be rude Vera.” But Vera rolled her eyes and protested, “I wasn’t being rude, I was just stating the obvious dear mother.”
Dom smiled and said, “I didn’t take it as rude, no worries. I know people look at my face and see a lot of piercings. Anyway, I thought it would about that. I am not sure what these are about. But then again, I don’t know much about art. This is the very first art gallery I have ever been in. And I have only been in one museum before.”
Vera sighed, “You are so lucky! I have lived my whole life going to galleries and museums, they can be so boring!”
Vera’s mother sighed back, “See what I get for exposing my daughter to a life of culture and beauty? Such an ungrateful little waif!” She then let out a big laugh and kissed Vera on the cheek.
Vera wiped her cheek and looked at her mom. “You can be so embarrassing sometimes!” she said as she laughed back.
Dom was completely enthralled by how fun this encounter was. Her spirits were lifted by seeing the relationship between Vera and her mom. But she was confused. “So, I have a question Vera. You said the vase in the bathroom was yours and your mom would only let you put it there. So Angel, does that mean you are the owner of the gallery?”
Angel answered with a smile, “No, not the owner. I am the artist. Vera wanted to take over the gallery with her vases but I, meanest mother in the world, wouldn’t let her. She got the bathrooms and she’s lucky to have them.” She laughed.
“You did these paintings? Really?” Dom said with her jaw open. She was now mortified. “I am so sorry I said I didn’t get them. I really do think they are good. Don’t listen to me, I don’t know anything. I should have just shut…”
Angel put her hand up to stop her, interrupting, “It’s completely OK Dominique. I wasn’t offended. I completely understand people will have all sorts of opinions about the work. I will say however that the reason I think the name of the show and the paintings are connected is that each painting shows something or someone getting pierced by something.”
Dom looked around. “Damn, how did she miss that!”, she thought to herself. “Uh…DUH me. Now I see it. Man, sometimes I can be so dumb.”
“No worries, you aren’t the first person who didn’t see the connection.” Angel said. “I was married to my husband for 10 years and he NEVER got any of the connections I was trying to make. But I still loved him anyway.”
Vera came up close to her mom and hugged her around the waist in a sweet, comforting gesture. Dom wasn’t sure what it was all about figured it wasn’t any of her business anyway.
Chapter Five
Angel excused herself, saying she had to mingle with other guests. She looked at Vera and said, “Are you ok on your own for now?”
She laughed, pointed at Dom and said, “Yep, I am going to walk around with her and explain all the weird things in your paintings that no one ever notices!”
Dom and Vera did just that. They walked around the gallery and Vera explained about little secrets, and in some cases the larger story, behind the paintings.
They got to the last painting, of a man with a gun in his hand standing over someone he had just shot. Dom said, “This is the most gruesome of all the paintings I think. What’s the story behind this one?”
Vera looked at her and said, “This one is of my dad. He had to kill someone a long time ago to protect my mom and me. We went to the mall to shop and there was some guy who started firing a gun near us. My dad pushed us both down into a lingerie store and ran after the guy. He fought him and got the gun away and killed him.”
Dom was stunned. “Wow, your dad was a real hero that day! How did he get the courage to go do that?”
“I don’t know” Vera responded. “Mom says he never really was a scary strong guy before, but she said something just came over him and he did it. She tells me that he never said anything about it afterwards except that he loved us and wanted to make sure we were safe.”
“Wow. Did he ever talk to you about it?” Dom asked.
Vera looked up at Dom and said, “No, he died before I really was old enough to talk to him very much. I was only 5.”
Dom put her hand on Vera’s shoulder. “I am so sorry to hear that. He sounds like he was a really great dad. I bet you miss him.” She was crying as she spoke.
Vera noticed the tears and said, “It’s ok now. I remember good things about him. I am not sad that much anymore.”
Dom said, “You know why I am crying? There is something you don’t know about me. My dad died too. I was only 7.”
Vera looked at her and wrapped her arms around her waist. “I am sorry, it sucks, doesn’t it.”
“Yes, it does.” said Dom.
Vera and Dom went back into the main gallery to get something to eat and drink. They saw Angel again and Vera told her about Dom’s dad dying. Angel gave Dom a hug, holding on for quite a while. She asked, “Would you like to go to dinner with a few of us after the opening is over? It will just be another half an hour if you can wait. I would love to have you with us.”
Vera piped up, “Yes, you have to come, promise?”
Dom smiled and said, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world!”
Epilogue
The dinner was great, as was the fun day the three of them had at the Zoo a week later. Dom started watching Vera a few days a week after school while Angel was at her day job. Vera taught her how she made her paper vases and flowers.
Dom quit her dancing job a few months later. It was a big financial hit but she had saved up some and knew she needed to get out of that business soon anyway. She got a job at the front desk of the Foray Gallery and Vera would come hang out there after school. Dom eventually learned bookkeeping and took over running the gallery’s business side. Turned out she was good at it.
Angel became a very well-known artist and her paintings became much sought after. They started selling to not just collectors but museums as well. The gallery even sold one for $100,000.00, which blew everyone away. There was a big celebration that night!
When Foray’s owner wanted to sell the gallery to move down to Florida to be closer to his dying parents, Dom, Angel and Vera went in together and bought the gallery.
They remained best of friends for the rest of their lives.
Year later, when Dom was asked what was the secret of her success, she would always say the same thing, “The secret to my success is very simple. I had one moment of courage to go see art when I was 21 years old. Everything else came from that”
The End
Drawing and Short Story © 2015 Marty Coleman | napkindad.com
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by Marty Coleman | Aug 17, 2015 | Communications - 2015, Peter Drucker |
Bachelor in Paradise
We were watching an episode of the TV show ‘Bachelor in Paradise’ last week (don’t judge). A girl was smitten with a guy. She was convinced it was a match made in heaven based on their date together. At the same time some of the other contestants on the show were starting to think maybe he didn’t have those same feelings. How? A little bit by what he said, which was mostly talking about another girl who wasn’t even on the show yet, but mostly by his body language, his non-verbal communication, toward the girl he had the date with.
Instincts
The day after the date, he avoided her like the plague. When two of the guys went to her and said they had doubts about his intentions she confronted him about it. He said that he was interested but had kept his distance so as to not smother her. He then confronted to two guys, accusing them of throwing him under the bus and that he felt betrayed. It caused both the men to apologize to him and her. One even broke down, so mortified that he had accused him of that when he really shouldn’t have.
Truth and Trust
The kicker? We the audience have been watching him being interviewed apart from everyone else. And his intent? He couldn’t care less about that girl, he just needed to get a rose this week so the woman he hoped would be at ‘paradise’ would show up next week. He’s been a snake, a liar, a schemer and a con man. A week later the girl he wanted to date showed up. it turns out they had been in contact before the show and knew each other would be there. All he had to do was stay long enough for her to arrive and he did it by playing the unsuspecting woman.
What the guys and girls thought was true, turned out to be true. They picked up on his insincerity but they didn’t trust their instinct. They didn’t believe they could trust what was obvious, albeit unsaid.
How good are you at hearing what isn’t said?
Drawing and commentary @ 2015 Marty Coleman | napkindad.com
Quote by Peter Drucker, 1909-2005, American Management Consultant
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by Marty Coleman | Aug 7, 2015 | Self-HELP!! - 2015, St. Francis |
That’s Impossible
Do you want to know what is impossible? A relatively obscure Austrian bodybuilder who can barely speak English becoming one of the biggest international movie stars ever and THEN becoming Governor of the most populous state in the USA. That is impossible.
Here’s another one: A divorced B-list actor, on his way out in popularity, becoming the President of the United States. That is impossible.
One more: A clinically depressed unwed mother on welfare becoming the biggest selling author of the last 20 years with a net worth of over 1 billion dollars. That is impossible.
Necessary
Each one of these examples followed the process in the napkin. First, they did what was necessary. They did the hard work to reach their first goal. That first goal is not where they ended up. It was the necessary first step. If you aren’t willing to do the dishwashing in a restaurant, chances are you aren’t going to become an owner of a restaurant.
Possible
Each of the people above had a vision of what was possible. One knew he could become a world famous bodybuilder, the best that has ever been, before or after. One had the foresight and courage to change direction mid-life from acting to politics and public service. The third believed in all her heart that if she could get this book finished and into the right hands it would be a success. Their necessary hard work gave them glimpses into what was possible and they took advantage of those opportunities.
Impossible
Once the possible is taken advantage of with the foundation of necessary hard work, then those things that were WAY out of reach, that were impossible, all of a sudden became no longer impossible, just unlikely. Then more possibles came to pass and then the unlikely became a possible. Then, the impossible became real.
Arnold, Ronald and J.K.
Arnold Schwarzenegger was just another bodybuilding meathead. Ronald Reagan was just another washed up actor. J.K. Rowling was just another wannabe writer. But that’s what others thought of them. It wasn’t what they thought of themselves. They saw themselves, AND applied themselves, as if they were much greater and much better than how others saw them.
They Knew
- They knew they couldn’t let others opinions decide their fate.
- They knew hard, focused work was the key.
- They knew they had to take advantage of the possible for it to become real.
- They knew their vision had to expand and adapt as the future played itself out.
- They knew not to be afraid of failure OR success.
Do you want to achieve the impossible? That’s how to do it.
Here are some rags to riches stories that illustrate this process again and again.
Rags to Riches – Business Insider
Drawing and commentary © 2015 Marty Coleman | napkindad.com
Quote by Saint Francis of Assisi
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by Marty Coleman | Aug 4, 2015 | Newt Gingrich, Self-HELP!! - 2015 |
Prints are still available. $25.00
A New Definition for Me
I usually think of perseverance as just sticking with something. But this quote brought to the fore a different aspect of perseverance for me. This focuses on the underlying reasons so many people don’t persevere; they think they’ve already worked hard enough or they simply tire of the work. That make me think about my own work differently.
Seems To Me
Yes, I’ve done a lot of work in my Napkin Dad efforts over the years. Sometimes it seems like it should be enough work to have succeeded. But what difference does it make if it ‘seems’ like anything? You can’t go by what something seems like. You have to go with reality. And the reality says I have more work to do to get where I want to go. In other words, ‘seems’ is irrelevant.
The Top of the Rock
Have you ever watched TV reports of rock climbers attempting to scale some giant cliff? They never have as their goal to get half way up the cliff, right? They say they are going to conquer that mountain, not conquer the half way mark of the mountain.
Often in rock climbing you see these beautiful photographs of the climbers in little tents hanging on a vertical cliff taking a break. They have food, shelter, warmth and they can actually survive days and weeks going up a cliff that way. They sleep all night and start up again the next day or they may have to wait it out a day or two if there is a storm.
But they stick to their goal, the top. No matter how tired they are, they can’t say ‘I worked hard enough, I am now at the top.’ They aren’t at the top until they are at the top, no wishing or feeling they should be at the top will change that.
Photograph © Gordon Wiltsie
Check out Gordon’s photos of extreme rock climbers at BinsCorner.com
Your Goals
It’s no difference with our goals. Do we want to achieve something? Then let’s set our minds to it and get started. Take little steps, keep at it, and let’s not fool ourselves into thinking we are done before we are done. We know it will be hard work and we commit ourselves to doing it. When we are tired, we take a break. But, we don’t shortchange ourselves and we don’t shortchange the world waiting for us to contribute what we have to give by quitting. We get out of the tent the next morning and resume our climb to our goal.
Periscope
Here is the Periscope video of the #NapkinKin trying to ‘guess the quote’ as I drew.
Drawing and Commentary @2015 Marty Coleman | napkindad.com
Quote by Newt Gingrich, 1943 – not dead yet, American politician
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by Marty Coleman | Jul 29, 2015 | Series |
Prologue
She didn’t like her shoes. She worried they didn’t go with her skirt. Her husband said they looked good together but she wasn’t sure.
Chapter One
When Sonya arrived at Starbucks he was already there. She noticed his shirt first since it was the same color as her shoes. He didn’t see her since he was facing away and writing in what looked like some sort of notebook calendar type thing. It was hot out so she walked behind him without saying anything and stood in line. She stared at his head because he had gray hair and she was surprised by that. He looked old because of it but then again not that old because his hair was full. She thought it was probably thicker than hers.
Dennis was annoyed she was late. He had arrived a minute early and had already been there 6 minutes. That meant she was 5 minutes late, not a good sign as far as he was concerned. He started writing notes in his calendar book, hoping to get rid of his annoyance. It wasn’t working. In addition he hated the shirt his wife had picked out for him. He hated the baby blue color. He hated the buttons. He hated the scratchy label in the collar.
Chapter Two
Sonya got herself an iced cherry something or other, she wasn’t sure what it was called. But she liked the color and that usually was a good enough sign that she would like it. She walked over to Dennis’ table, speaking and putting her hand on his back as she passed. He jumped as she did that. He hated to be touched. He tried to hide his scowl but she caught a glimpse of it as she turned around to sit down. She smile and introduced herself, holding out her hand to shake his. She could tell his smile was forced as he reached out his hand. His hand was cold and clammy and his grip was non-existent, as if he was a young boy who hadn’t learned to grip yet. She got a creepy feeling from him.
Dennis was startled when he felt the hand on his back. Then this loud grating voice startled him even more. The touch, the voice then the face all all told him in about 15 seconds that he wasn’t going to hire her. She had straggly hair, too much eyeliner and eyeshadow that was a weird color. He couldn’t imagine her fitting in at the office. He could see his secretary making fun of her and the maintenance guy trying to hit on her. He could see his assistant not wanting to work with her.
Chapter Three
Sonya smiled as big and as often as she could. She told her testimony of how she became a Christian at the age of 17 after her mother had died. Dennis interrupted her constantly during her story, asking her theological questions about what it was she actually believed when she converted. He asked a number of questions about Calvinism, which she didn’t really understand at all. He was so focused on that he didn’t even acknowledge the loss of her mother. She continued to tell about her faith journey and how it led to her wanting to work in the missions area of the church he pastored. But she was getting angrier and angrier underneath the facade because not only did he keep interrupting but he wouldn’t look her in the eye. He did however look at her chest way too much. When he started talking he wouldn’t shut up. He bragged about his Christian journey, about his 3 degrees in Theology, about the increase in attendance, about how many times he had been on TV in the last year. She was hating the interview and starting to hate him.
Dennis had to go through the motions of interviewing her but he wanted to make sure she had no doubt she was not a good fit by the end of it. He pressed her on important theological questions that she could not answer. He told stories about his church that she should have responded to with enthusiasm. The fact that she didn’t showed she was self-absorbed with her own overly sappy story. She would not be able to see the church had to take priority over her autobiographical obsession. No matter how hard he tried though she kept wanting it to be all about her. He smiled and said all the right Christian things but inside he was starting to hate her.
Chapter Four
Sonya left the interview very worried. She needed the job and had felt God was calling her to it until she had met Dennis. He seemed creepier as the interview went on. She could see him trying to hit on her. When she got home she realized she hadn’t once thought about her shoes.
Dennis left the interview annoyed. He needed to fill the job and really did think Sonya was the perfect candidate until he met her. She seemed sloppy (she had a stain on her green jacket that he couldn’t not look at. Her Christianity was immature and overly emotional. She did her makeup worse than his daughter did. When he got back to his office he realized he hadn’t once thought about his annoying shirt.
Epilogue
Sonya eventually got a job as a secretary to a Roller Derby team, the Banford Banshees. She helped them get organized with social media and their attendance rose 3 fold in just 2 months. She got a tattoo of a screaming banshee on her butt.
Dennis left his church for a new pastoral position in Beaumont Falls. He served that congregation loyally until the voted him out due to declining attendance. He became depressed until he got a job selling shoes at the mall. Women loved how he put high heels on them.
The End
Drawing and story © 2015 Marty Coleman | napkindad.com
If you would like to read more illustrated short stories you can find them in the ‘Sketchbook’ drop down menu above.
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by Marty Coleman | Jul 20, 2015 | Illustrated Short Stories, Sketchbook History Tour |
Boyfriends
Barbara woke up and took a walk towards the volcano. She got lightheaded on the walk and saw a vision of all her past boyfriends tumbling down the steep mountain.
She saw Josh, the young man she had the affair with at the beach resort. She didn’t know if he really should be included since he wasn’t technically a boyfriend, more like a one night stand, even though it did last 4 days.
She saw Bob, the guy she met at the photography store. He wanted to photograph her but she turned the tables and eventually got him to pose for her instead. He broke up with her when he realized she had posted the full frontal nudes of him on her Flickr account.
She saw Jared, the older man she had a fling with at her job. He was divorced and a bit pathetic, but he smelled nice and bought her things. She broke up with him when she realized he thought 9/11 was a government conspiracy.
She saw Benjamin, the Jewish guy from her AA group. They bonded when the both realized they didn’t believe in God. He broke up with her when he found the love of his life on Eharmony.
She saw Robin, the dapper fellow she met at the hair salon. He was great in bed and she would have kept him but she caught him with her makeup and panties on one day and couldn’t handle that he was prettier than she was.
She saw Trevor, the British Cad who she knew was cheating from the very beginning but she stayed with him because he had a nice penthouse apartment overlooking Central Park. Ironically he broke up with her when he caught her cheating with Benjamin.
She saw Kevin, the police officer who stopped her for speeding. The went out for almost a year, but then he was wounded in the line of duty and had to go live with his parents in Oshkosh, Wisconsin. They broke up when he reconnected with his elementary school sweetheart back home.
And finally she saw Tim, the bodybuilder she met backstage at some competition. She liked his big muscles but he had erectile dysfunction and it was something she just couldn’t get over.
When she returned from her walk she called her husband, who was away on a business trip, to say she loved him. There was no answer and that made her wonder what he was doing.
The End.
Drawing and short story © 2015 Marty Coleman | napkindad.com
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by Marty Coleman | Jun 5, 2015 | 'In The Gallery' |
Chapter One
Once upon a time there was a very tall woman named Galindra. Most of her height was due to her very, very big head. Without her head she would be three feet tall. But her head was six feet tall all by itself so she ended up being 9 feet tall. Luckily she also had very, very long and skinny arms that allowed her to reach the top of her head. This was important when it came to grooming habits.
Chapter Two
One day Galindra went to an art gallery. She was going on a blind date and they decided to meet there. It was a hot summer day and she wore her favorite yellow shorts and her tight blue top. She wore flesh-colored flats that made her look like she was barefoot. She straightened her hair (it took an hour) and put on her summer makeup, including trying false eyelashes for the very first time.
Chapter Three
Galindra was there first. She walked around the gallery enjoying the paintings. They were of men doing various activities that involved holding things that looked very phallic to her. In addition there were part of things coming in from the edge of the paintings that were also quite phallic, like elephant trunks, baseball bats and long skinny party balloons. She thought these were very funny and interesting. She became engrossed in trying to figure out the meaning behind each of the paintings.
Chapter Four
As time passed she realized she was being stood up. The blind date had not shown up. This made her very angry and she expressed her frustration right in the middle of the gallery. She had been stood up many times over the years. She knew it was because of her big head. It made her so mad because she really was a smart, funny, kind and attractive woman but no one ever gave her a chance to show it because all they saw was her head.
Chapter Five
When she finished her little demonstration of anger and frustration she noticed someone had come into the room. He walked over to her and asked if she was ok. She said yes, that she had just been stood up and was venting. The man said, “I am sorry you were stood up, that was very rude of the person.” Galindra thanked him and asked him his name as she put her hand out to shake his. He said, “My name is Art. This is my exhibition actually.”
Chapter Six
Galindra shook his hand and said, “Oh My God, I want to ask you so many questions! Would you mind?” Art responded, “No, I would love to answer your questions.” Galindra and Art walked around the gallery talking about the paintings for the next 2 hours until Galindra said she had to go get something to eat because she was starting to feel faint. Art asked if she would like to go to lunch with him and she said yes.
Chapter Seven
Galindra and Art became very good friends. Art eventually got up enough nerve to ask her if she would model for him. He ended up doing a series of 12 paintings of her in all sorts of situations, from nude to being dressed up like an astronaut. He mounted an exhibition of the paintings and the show became his most popular ever. The paintings were featured in Art News and Art Forum magazines. The CBS TV show, Sunday Morning did a long segment on the two of them with their favorite interviewer, Mo Roca, doing the interview.
Epilogue
Galindra and Art got married 2 years later. They had seven children, all of whom had big heads and long arms. They eventually had 27 grandchildren and 4 great-grandchildren . They had an apartment in Manhattan, a summer house on Cape Cod and winter home in the Swiss alps. Galindra lived to be 88 years old and Art lived to be 92.
The man who stood Galindra up at the gallery was hit by a truck the next day and died.
The End
© 2015 Marty Coleman
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by Marty Coleman | Apr 28, 2015 | Illustrated Short Stories |
Chapter One
Emily took the mirror out of her purse. She was looking for blood splatter but noticed her hair instead. She didn’t like how her hair looked when it blew in the wind. Instead of looking full like she wanted, it looked straggly and thin. She couldn’t decide if it was due to the hair cut she got, which she hated, or the product she had been persuaded to buy at the salon. Whatever the reason, she didn’t like it and wanted to get back in the car as soon as possible. This wasn’t just due to her hair looking shitty, but because of the body in the middle of the road. Emily knew the road was seldom travelled but she didn’t want to take chances just in case one of those survivalist nut cases up in the backwoods came down in a tank or something.
Chapter Two
Emily reapplied her lipstick as she drove down the mountain. She got out her mascara and added a bit to her upper lashes when she got to the one and only stop light in town. She even got a bit of blush to each cheek before the light turned green. She was hungry and Chicken King was right at the corner. She liked Chicken King because the chicken fingers were easy to eat and the straws were just the right diameter. She was particular about these things knowing that it all contributed to her looking as good as she did. People thought it was just her lucky genetics and that pissed her off. She worked hard and sacrificed to look this good. She wished people realized that.
She ate as she drove down the coastline. She wondered how long it would be until the body was found. She wondered if wild animals would find it and drag it off the road. Wouldn’t that be convenient she thought. She noticed the moon was red and thought that was very strange.
After about 3 hours of driving she stopped for gas. She put on a pair of those cheap rubber gloves that come in a box before touching the gas hose since the worst thing in the world was to be able to smell gas on her fingers after she got back in the car. She went into the convenience store to go to the bathroom but the toilet was covered in pee and she couldn’t do it. She would just have to wait. She got a pack of gum and told the teenage clerk he should have been checking the toilets more often because one had urine all over it. He looked at her blankly and said, “Someone else does that, I just take money.”
Emily got back in the car and drove away. She was upset about that encounter, realizing that it was an example of the younger generation having no initiative to make something of themselves. What had gone wrong with America anyway, she thought as she searched for another gas station.
Chapter Three
She stopped at two more places along the way looking to pee. Both were unacceptable. One had a cracked toilet seat and she just knew it would pinch her flesh if she sat on it. As she walked towards the door she looked at the clerk, a young Mexican woman with dark blush on her cheeks and high arched eyebrows painted on, and said under her breath, “No wonder this place is in disrepair. You people are lazy.” The clerk didn’t hear what she said but did notice Emily’s red lipstick and thought it was too bold considering how dark her eyeliner was. When Emily got back in the car she looked in the rear view mirror and put a fresh coat of lipstick on. She was happy she had some style compared to that ugly clerk. “How could people want to look like that?” she whispered to herself.
The second store only had a unisex bathroom. A man emerged from it right as Emily walked up. Emily hated the idea of sitting down on the same toilet a strange man had peed in, especially as fat and ugly as that man was. She immediately turned around and stomped out. She slapped her hand on counter as she left and said to the clerk, “What the fuck is wrong with you people?” The clerk, a Korean boy about 13, didn’t understand english and had no idea what she said, only that she was mad about something. His mother was in the back room and didn’t hear anything.
She almost cried when she got back in the car after the third try because she really had to pee. But she looked in the rear view mirror, smoothed out an errant eyelash and said to herself, “I have my standards and lowering standards contributes to the downfall of society.” She had memorized that line from her “Planning For Success’ CD and repeated it to herself often. She also didn’t cry because it would have smeared her eyeliner, which had taken a long time to put on that morning.
Chapter Four
By this time her bladder was close to bursting. She was glad she hadn’t compromised her standards but she also was getting desperate. The next place had better be acceptable or she wasn’t sure what she would do. She wasn’t holding out much hope when she walked in and saw that the clerk was a black woman. She had a big pile of what looked like black, brown and tan snake coils on top of her head. She had on a very low cut top that showed overflowing breasts. Emily wondered how someone could show that much breast and not show her nipples. “No wonder they all get pregnant so early”, she muttered to her self.
While it wasn’t pretty inside the bathroom, and that annoyed her, it was clean. She was comfortable enough to sit all the way down on the toilet and go. She felt so relieved that she actually said out loud to herself, “Now I can die happy.”
She left the bathroom and walked back into the store. As she did she noticed a young boy, maybe a teenager, standing at the counter. He was in a tan, button down shirt, khaki pants and loafers. His hair was cut in a contemporary but still traditional look. He was standing up very straight and looking straight ahead. She thought some mother was proud of that boy, he looked like he was going to do great things in life.
She smiled as walked towards him, coughing in hopes of getting his attention. Right as she did this he raised his right hand and pointed a gun at the clerk. But he heard Emily cough at that same moment and, without thinking, turned his gun toward her and pulled the trigger. Emily had enough time to widen her eyes and drop her jaw in disbelief. The bullet went straight into her open mouth, hit the back of her throat and cut right through her brain stem as it exited. Emily’s brain was able to think one final thought before she died. “My lipstick…”
The store clerk, named Edna, ran to the back of the store when the shot was fired. The boy ran after her. He tripped and fell hard on a slick patch of wet concrete on the loading dock. Edna, hiding behind the dumpster right next to where he fell grabbed a piece of wood from a pile of broken pallets and hit him on the head as hard as she could. She didn’t realize the piece of wood had a big nail sticking out of it. The nail caught the boy in the eye and he screamed in pain as she kicked the gun out of his hand.
Epilogue
Edna was a local hero. She was given a civilian service award by the sheriff and that made her consider studying law. She eventually earned her law degree and spent many decades representing immigrants before she retired and moved closer to her grandkids.
The boy went to prison as a juvenile, where his nickname was ‘Cyclops’. He got out when he turned 25 and moved to Alabama. Ironically he ended up being a clerk in a convenience store until his death in a car wreck at age 30.
The woman Emily murdered was found on the road where she died. Her name was Shannon and she was remembered by many in her town as a wonderful wife and mother and a dedicated volunteer at the psychiatric hospital. Her murder was never solved. Her husband of 12 years eventually remarried and moved away to Arkansas with his new bride and his 3 kids. They had a daughter together and named her Shannon.
Emily’s body stayed in the local county morgue for a month. No one claimed it and they were unable to find any relatives. She was cremated and her ashes were stored in the morgue. The cardboard box they were in was put in a supply closet during a building expansion 3 years later. During some jack hammering in the parking lot next door the box fell onto the floor and broke open. When the custodian saw the mess he swept the ashes towards the drain in the floor and washed them down. The cardboard box was thrown away.
The End
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by Marty Coleman | Jan 20, 2015 | Illustrated Short Stories, Sketchbook History Tour |
Brandi contemplating on a rainy day at Foolish Things with churches in the distance in Tulsa, Oklahoma on 05/12/14.
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Drawing by Marty Coleman
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by Marty Coleman | Apr 5, 2010 | Thomas Fuller |
When I was in high school my buddies and I weren’t the most ‘popular’ guys. But we were probably the funniest. And one of the ways we were very funny was to make fun of other people. We were very good at it. What we lacked in ‘physically beat you up’ ability, we made up for in ‘verbally beat you up’ ability. It was fun and it was oh so easy.
Part of the reason I was good at it was that my mother was good at it. She was very funny. She laughed easily at all sort of things. But in particular she loved to skewer people who were up on their high horse about something, or just because they had the money to show off how high their horse was. I liked that about her, it kept her down to earth in my mind.
But as time went on, I started to notice that this humor was keeping her from meeting people, was keeping her from having friends because she wasn’t just poking fun, she was also doing a bit of judging without knowing the people. She was making assumptions based on their wealth or clothes or country club. She retained her humor all her life, but as life took it’s toll on her she had less time to judge and more time to just enjoy people. I liked seeing that.
At the same time I started to see the same thing with me and my friends. We were losing out on knowing and becoming friends with people because we were too busy judging them. As one would hope, that adolescent judgment mellowed out as we aged and it wasn’t our only way of being funny as we got older.
When I had kids of my own I really wanted to make sure they found ways to have fun, be funny, even poke fun, without cutting off good people just because they were different, just because they may have ‘appeared’ to be a fool. I wasn’t always good at leading by example in this because I still can make fun of people pretty easily.
The truth is, maybe those other people you are laughing at are fools in certain areas. I know my share to this day (and they know me), but you run the risk of losing out on knowing the other parts of them as well. And that could, in the end, quite easily make you the lonely fool, right?
Drawing and commentary by Marty Coleman of The Napkin Dad Daily
“To make a trade of laughing at a fool is the highway to become one.” – Thomas Fuller, 1608-1661, English churchman and historian
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by Marty Coleman | Nov 25, 2009 | Gratitude - 2010/2011, Thanksgiving, William A. Ward |
I was looking for a shopping quote today in anticipation of Black Friday but came to realize as I was searching that Black Friday is primarily not about shopping, it’s about gift giving.
So, a simple question comes to mind. Is the gift you are going to get on Friday a gift that the recipient will feel was given with them in mind? Will it show your gratitude for them, your love for them or will it show you spent money because that is what you are suppose to do?
Will the present be buried in the past without a second thought, or will it be treasured because it came from love?
You may ask, how can I know what that is? You know by paying attention to the person. Not when they are writing down their wish list, but throughout the year. Listen to what they talk about, what they care about. That will tell you how you can meet their needs with a gift. That will show you are acting grateful, not just saying you are grateful.
Drawing and commentary © Marty Coleman
“Feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a present and not giving it.” – William Arthur Ward, 1924 – 1994, American Author
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