Saturday, May 28, 2011

#22 Sheilaand My Fair Lady


The journalist was at it again, a story on csi a background story on the insights.  do people really know how hard a story is, it was story...

Sheila was in panic mode again,  What, with the upstart of the Coffee Shoppe.   Some might say that is was the most positive thing for the business, a private owned shoppe turned around like a successful night club over night was thought to be impossible.

Yes, Sheila was filled with her own energy.  Telling herself to do one of the hardest things, something that scared her so tremendously.

photoNow she was missing opportunities when she pushed herself.  But last night as she whipped shots and John and Alexandra, worked with her, she felt that whatever happens, happens, its an opportunity.  Her take on the work situation, relaxed her.


Who cares if Alexandria made her head squeeze like a watermelon.  Alexandria and her complaints, thought Sheila.

When she hired such an employee; she didn't think she'd have tolerate as much as she did. And spite everything, getting through to Alexandria was hard, and trying to explain to her, what she thought of messy coffee grounds everywhere, and Alexandria making up reason why she didn't have to clean them up.

And Alexandria's defintion that coffee grounds everywhere didn't make the business, it made unbusiness, like if you didn't see the grounds it meant you didn't have many customers coming into the shoppe.  Just like a pastry shop, which doesn't have its flour spread all over the floor, as its prime ingredients, made it unbusiness like.

How the hell a sixteen-year-old girl put it in her head put it in her head, what made or broke a business, amazed Sheila.

The girl had smarts though.  She helped Sheila calculate the new inventory of coffee products.  Wishing her business new.
Now Alexandra seemed to stand as a spectator.  My work here is done, I'm going to squeeze a white rag of grounds, until every ground has disappeared was her newest take.  One their briefest of conversations, sheila could have shaken that girl.  But she looked at her now with squirrel eyes and chipmunk teeth.  Are you seriously saying that you copied these emerging ideas from Books are us, down the street?  Comin' up to her now lookin' down and squeezing her black apron, like a squirrel squeezing a nut until it would crack.   Alexandra not really lookin' at her.  a new wave shifting in its place, inches away from Alexandra now.  "Are you saying you copied these emerging ideas from "Bakers are us?"

Alexandra was still lookin' out the window of the shoppe.  Two black suited men were approaching the shop and were looking behind them with body guard curiosity.  If it wasn't a hotter day, she'd almost think that they had business on their minds.  But she knew they were there, to speak to her.

photoTaking off  her Green apron and tossing it at Sheila's head;covering up the chipmunk,  Alexandra frantically looking at her two possible exits, and she ran through the bar style doors and through the kitchen's black metal doors before running across the parking lots in leaps and bounds.

"Best Buy" behind her and in front of  her; Uncle Larry's apartment, she made a dash through the apartment's, parking lot, and grabbed the door behind a guest who was entering.

Thursday, May 26, 2011

#22Derrick and Misty and Faith :Pop Goes the Weasel

Misty caught the eight count, three counts into the song, Poised and jumped to attention,  look right, back, look up and down, march march, turn turn.
She knew that Katherine, Betsy's mom made candid notation of all the moves she made despite the fact that her daughter was 23 years old now.  she rapidly picked up her cadence of instructions, bellowing them from the top of her lungs like they were dismantling a b.   and with that misty twirls, smile , smile.  And I want you to picture the first time you were caught kissing your first love in front of a friend, or in public with an old woman scorning you,  Get those dimples out and make them show the strongest.  I Want those cheeks to hurt so bad, you want to scream and throw something at me by the end of this exercise.  I want this to be the moment you counted on.  the moment you threw tootsie rolls to your audience.  Recanting aloud a moment from her own youth as a dancer.

Meanwhile, get your feet moving, right, left right.


Faith looked over the crowd wandering where on earch she managed to catch Luncy. This girl couldn't be on the street, she thought to herself as she found Lucy, laying against a black dumpster barrow.  Eyes barely open, her orange, brown highlighted bangs laying over her forehead. brushing it to the side temporarily so that she could assess the damage made by Fertando her newest beau.  her socked eye leaving a scar. 
"I'll be fine, Faithy".She said momentarily, and than falling back into a small slumber, and with that Faith got an idea.  She'd take Lucy to Kenia's so she'd see for herself the effects of getting beaten up and the scars if could leave on a person.


She wasn't sure what kenia would make of a young girl turned to crack and left with a pyschoprenic paranoia that left her looking like an adult trapped in a child's body with little room for escape and when she eventually pulled Lucy to her feet she knew that this girl would be fine.  She'd get her some water and clean her up, thought faith.  as long as faith took her to her own place.



Tuesday, May 24, 2011

#21-Sheilaand red haired MISTY

That girl seemed to have ideas coming out of her head like water.  The CSI investigator who takes on Death cases with a sense of complexion.  And although back over northeast which the journalist, Sandra, was scraping together a plan that included anything. 
Sheila, the coffee shop owner put the booklets out front advertising the shops new bakery items.

Meanwhile, Brenda was in her own world. Thinking specifically about what Derrick said. 

  "Get me the dancers, Derick said."

Brenda had thought from Hollywood.  Well Derrick didn't say NOT to get Misty. 

Misty although the most sensitive of young women, S could think of could ire and rhythms in songs, that no one else could like, some double-dutching by themselves on state in a beetle e song, this rhythm was hidden, but she purposely choreographed songs so that particular beat came up so much through three fine dancers that the audience wandered if they were listing to some song that sold over 3 millions records or were they denying themselves something so wonderful.  And yes, red haired misty, sparky misty with curls bouncing off her head as she danced.  On the street, she'd wear white cotton shorts, five inches past the knee and matching cotton tank top with ruffles. 
On the street mind you.  She thought she was beautiful and said it more off than not.  Seeing her walk in a room was like wandering where the 12 men marching band walked in.

Derrick had a hard crush on her.  Although she stomped him to the ground on numerous occasions.  Insulting his laziness while still berating him with his potential.  "If only you were as good as me".  Misty would say and than twirl her springy head to the the dancers, telling them where they could stand on the stage and Derick would watch, stunned, his same company of dancers never took the lead like when she called them to attention, fear, fear for what this spring headed monster, Derick would say, "frustrated under his breath, and the dancers took position and than there the music settled, misty stood in front

"One, two three, from there the same hip hop song was like a gymnastic competition twirling feet in the air, kicks so high,  confusion and mock fun at the same moves Derick transcribed


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