You Won’t Believe It!

You won’t believe it!

Yes, I know I just wrote about that but I cannot help it! It was another long day at work and I was tired. Leaving work and making my way to the bus stop, I saw something floating in a parking lot, riding a river that was created by all the rain we have had recently. This thing settled behind a car just as I was approaching it and something caught my eye.

“What was that? A flash? A reflection? No sun out today. Strange.”

Anyway, it looked like a bottle of some type but I couldn’t really tell. I was in no hurry to get home to my dingy apartment and my roommates, two primary targets of my disdain, so I bent down and scooped this thing up. It was really gross and sticky, not unlike my roommates and apartment, so I thought I would take it home and put it there. No, not really. I do try to keep my p[art of the apartment clean, after all. Actually, my dad is an admirer of old glass so I thought I would check it out to see if it would be of interest to him.

I started to wipe it with my t-shirt and as the old brown glass began to show through the mud….BAM!  A loud pop and smoke filled the air. People started running, fearful of a terrorist event, no doubt. I was paralyzed, unable to move, mesmerized by the swirling smoke, which stunk. Suddenly there appeared a Genie! He was gigantic…. tan with a long gray ponytail and thick moustache, hovering and staring down at me. He floated like a scary cloud with earrings and tattoos, but he wasn’t wearing a turban. He was wearing a broken down ball cap, black t-shirt, and old wranglers. (This is Houston, ya’ll). When he spoke, all I could hear was a rugged southern bass twang. “What can I do ya for….. buddy?”

“Sam Elliot? You’re a …..Genie?”

“Yep. Hard to believe ain’t it? What’s for supper, Bud? Got any beef? It’s what’s for dinner. Sorry, have to say that when I can. Hey is that a Dodge? It’s RAM tough! Sorry again. Subliminal contract obligations. You know how it is. So Spud, you rubbed the bottle and here I am. Whatcha need?” 

“What do I need?”

He turned abruptly and impatiently growled “Come on man, I got places to be. You know the drill. You get a wish and then I’m gone. RAM tough”

“I thought I got three wishes”

“You wish. Beef. Just 1 wish and if you don’t hurry I’m just gonna give you what I want you to have. It’s what’s for dinner”

“What’s that?”

“Well it sure ain’t gonna be beef, big boy, so hurry up. Texas. Ram tough. Beef. Dinner.”

“Ok, well, I would really like a new place to live by myself, without roommates, that’s close to work and within my budget and…”

“You’re pushing it Bud. 3-2-1. It’s what’s for…..”

“I want a new apartment!”

“Done! See ya Buddy. Good luck!”

And he was gone! Vanished like a puff of smoke, that smelled faintly of beer and cigars now that I think of it. Memories of “Roadhouse” suddenly swirled  in my head. Everyone else seemed oblivious to our conversation and all they saw was a cloud of dust. Can you believe it?  NOBODY BELIEVED ME!

“No, really! Sam Elliot came out of this bottle and called me “Bud” and gave me a wish”

Silence.

“Ok, he called me “big boy” and said he was obligated to quote his lines about beef and trucks, but he said I would get a new apartment!’

People are backing away. “Get me security”.

My phone rings.  Hello?

“Hi, this is Jane at the You’re Dreaming apartment complex. Your name just came up on the waiting list. We have an apartment ready for you.”

I spun around and danced, arms up in the air. “SEEEEEE?  I told you. I TOLD you!” Shouting and dancing, fingers pointing up in the air in victory 

“FREEZE!” comes the command from behind me. “Put your hands on your head and put the cell phone down.”

“But Sam Elliot just told me I was getting a new apartment”.

“Come again?”

“Sam Elliot appeared to me as the Roadhouse Genie and gave a wish since I rubbed his little brown bottle”.

“HMMMM”

“I PROMISE!”

“MMMM-HMMM. I think you’ve been hitting the bottle my friend, not just rubbing it”

“SAM! Come back and tell them!”

From the clouds came a whiff of smoke and cigars and faintly I could hear his low growl, “Be Ram Tough, they ain’t got no beef for dinner where you’re goin’, big’un”.

Nobody else heard it. Can you believe it?

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2 thoughts on “You Won’t Believe It!

  1. As a kid I remember fantasizing about finding a genie in a magic lamp and wondering what I’d wish for. Of course the whole thing was based on the genie tricking you and you had to be clever enough to evade the Genie’s wicked sense of humor and out fox him. You’ve provided an interesting spin on the genie story.

    • Thanks. I started off in a whole different direction but you know how persuasive those genies can be, particularly when they have beef for dinner and are ram tough.

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