I left Mean-Spirited Tales at this book store where I want to have a reading, because the associate said the owner needs to look through my book first. “Call in a week,” he said.
It’s weeks past the time he said to call. So I’m sure the owner has read the entire book by now and is waiting anxiously for my call. I’ll bet she’s all like, “Gosh, when’s Sandee calling? We need her! This Mean-Spirited Tales, it’s unguent, for the tortured soul…”
Of course it’s unguent — it has sadism, a beheading, alcoholics, liver pâté, the devil, an angel and some cats.
Do you know how many souls I’ve healed with my book? It frightens me to think of it.
My other reading was at the Indian Road Cafe. Patrons were there eating and talking. Good thing I invited lots of people and screamed the stories to drown the patrons out. After while I couldn’t hear any patrons. Or maybe they were just fascinated by my hypnotic story-telling skill – yes, that’s it. No wait – they were captivated by the creature horns on my head, by my piercing glare.
The Indian Road Café is a nice atmosphere and the food is great, but the book store has a podium! I’ve always wanted to pontificate behind a podium. No horns needed to draw attention to my flapping maw – I’ll be the center of everyone’s eye, standing tall.
I need to end this bookstore owner’s anticipation for my call though. I’ll hurry and call and schedule the date for my reading, that way she can celebrate it over the weekend. Who says Aunt Sandee isn’t altruistic.