PLEASE NOTE THAT THIS IS A 100% FICTIONAL STORY
Fandango’s FOWC is cantankerous, the Word of the Day Challenge is tops, Paula’s 3 Things Challenge words are martini, tire, whale , and Teresa’s Story Starter Challenge phrase is “I will have to change my milkman.”
I woke Monday morning and looked out to see yet another cloudy day. There wasn’t even a benefit of rain to go with it. Opening the the door to throw the trash into the bin, it was also bitterly cold out. Cloudy and cold spells cantankerous.
Yes, it was only 11 a.m., but I needed something to wash my toast down and chose a martini. It would probably cause me to feel tire(d) early, but having no schedule meant I could take a nap if it happened. The cosmopolitan washed the toast down so well I decided to have another.
Noon rolled around and I heard the doorbell ringing. Living this far out into the country, rings at the doorbell are not the usual. I looked out of the blinds of the side window. In the driveway was the van belonging to the organic farmer I bought my fresh goats’ milk and free-range eggs from. I had forgotten that Stan, of Stan The Man with the Organic Van’s Farm, delivered on Monday afternoons.
Stan was one of those upstanding, hard-working, middle-aged farmers that rose before dawn and went to bed long after dark. He also happened to look like a cross between Jax Teller and Jon Snow. My mind was going to dark places as it had been loosened with alcohol just thinking about how I’d like to corrupt him. My mood was improving, even if down a dark path.
I hurried to the door and opened the blind enough so he could see me and said, “Just a minute, Stan,” then I scurried to throw on a pair of capris and a t-shirt. Stan was admiring the iris at the front of the house when I opened the door to let him in.
“Those are some gorgeous iris, Li!” he said as he carried in a dozen eggs and 2 quarts of milk.
“Thanks, Stan, they were here when I moved in, and they keep going strong.”
“Li, I wanted to tell you that there is extra cream in the tops of the milk today. The goats just freshened and are producing cream like crazy.”
“Yum! I love that in my tea!”
“Li, you owe me the usual, $12.”
“Come on, Stan, couldn’t we find another way to work out the balance?”
Right after I said it, my mind was reeling. Never again would I drink 2 martinis in the morning.
Later that afternoon, I woke up in my bed, nude, feeling rumpled, and with a whale of a headache.
Embarrassed beyond belief at what had transpired, I thought, “I will have to change my milkman.” Too bad, as the product was superior.