Josey's Morning Irritations - Episode 2

The enormous picture window was Josey’s binoculars into the town. She would peek through the mini-blinds during her lunch hour and watch everyone scurrying around. Little did they know that Josey was memorizing every detail of their clothing, right down to the worn soles on their shoes. Shopping bags were scrutinized for their contents and possible store origination. This way, she had a handle on the financial expenditures and buying habits of her clients. She felt this was warranted, in case they might need to be directed to put a little more into the offering plate on Sunday.

Josey had elevated herself up from just a mere beauty consultant because she felt she had gained wisdom in about every area of life there was. She had advice on child rearing, marriage, cooking, domestic bliss and every other situation she could get her two cents in. Of course she had no experience herself, but what difference did that make? Wasn’t she head of the Carington Heights prayer group? She checked her appointments for the day and a reflection bounced off the walls, drawing her attention to the window.

“Dang,” she mumbled.  “What is Tootsie doing here so early? I swear, she must get out of bed with the chickens or hens, or whatever it is that does that squawking.” Nothing irritated Josey more than someone popping in before she had poured her morning toddy, which she kept stashed in an old hat box in the back room.

Now let me give you a little info on Tootsie. She is Carington’s town crier. Her 240-pound frame poured out rumors as liberally as Josey partook of her daily medicinal toddy. Trudy Turrelson, better known as Tootsie to her closest friends, had gone and married the richest man in town. Her battle with the bulge had been left behind years ago, when she found her darling husband Hank, cuddled up in the front seat of his canary yellow Cadillac with a buxom Dolly Pardon wanna be.  Her oldest and dearest friend in the world was Josey and God help the person who dared to speak one word against her. Tootsie’s abundant cash flow into the town kept the tongues on guard and their lips sealed, at least from her ears.

Her huge bulk was always adorned in a theme mode. Some days it was sunflowers, sometimes kittens, and once in a while the American flag, but today it was watermelons. Like a covert spy, Josey watched, bemused, as Tootsie rummaged through her purse for her lipstick. Pink of course, to match the watermelons on her top and pants. A connoisseur of jewelry, she had tiny watermelons dangling from her meaty earlobes and a watermelon clip had her blond hair gathered at her crown, giving her the appearance of a rooster. That was the bird Josey was trying to think of earlier, a rooster.

Josey sighed as Tootsie went through the grueling ritual of evicting herself from the car. She scooted her thick frame out the door and that was when Josey saw her watermelon shaped straw purse. Her eyes traveled down to Tootsie’s watermelon shod feet. Good Lord, she thought, how in the world does she get all that stuff to match?

Tootsie slammed the car door, pulled down her top, which had crept up over her ample bosom, and made her way to the shop. One turn of the crocheted doorknob and she ambled in. 
Stay tuned for the next episode!