As the lemon-lime gatorade trickled down my throat like the Iowa flood of 93 going down west Kimberly street, I sat back in my nice black computer chair thinking about a weekend that was full of fun. My socks were off, as they usually were. I reached into my pocket and discovered that I had 20 dollars. This thought was intriguing to me as I was in the mood for a nice pretzal or perhaps some Dippin Dots. It's a beautiful day, I thought to myself even though I didn't even look out the window. I just felt like thinking that.

As I was sitting back twilring with my hackysack, in comes a dame in a red dress. This thought was also intriguing to me because I thought I locked the front door. She was about 5'5 and it looked like she just bought the dress just so she could look nice for me. I get that a lot.

"I need help" she replied.

"I'm sorry ma'am. I'm all out of flu shots" I replied back.

She looked around for a while and then said "Oh…so you're a doctor?"

"No, I just play one on TV" I said with a sly grin.

After looking at this dame some more, a rumbly feeling came to my stomach. Like butterflies were in there…..I knew I shouldn't have eaten that chinese food. I told her to sit down and tell me what was up, besides the ceiling. She was going on and on about her missing scottie dog. I wasn't paying attention though, the thoughts of pretzals came to my mind and I just droned out like a deer in front of my 1992 Honda Civic.

I told her that i've seen it all except for when Dave Matthews Band came to concert in my hometown. She smiled and then we proceeded to talk about the finer things in life, like crumpets and fried food.

"Someone told me you were the best" she said with a smile.

"Well someone was lying, babycakes" I replied as I took off my Livestrong bracelet.

"Oh, really?" she said, looking confused.

"I'm the second best, Barnaby Jones is the best" I said, confident in myself.

I then proceeded to slap myself on the head like Donkey Kong playing the bongos, for I shouldn't have said that. She didn't care though. I guess that Barnaby Jones had screwed her over one time in a case involving Yogi Bear and a Pic-a-nic basket.

"Why aren't you working for the police department?" she asked.

"Well, police work isn't my bag baby" I said smugly.

She laughed and obviously seemed impressed. The real reason was because I hated automatic toilets. But the dame didn't need to know that, I was on a roll. The dame's looks were starting to get to me. She was the kind of woman who you would want to play Twister with and then persuadee your friend to plan the spots out so her butt could be right in your face. I was a detective though and I knew that I would have to ease my way in with Parcheezi first. We laughed for a long time and we decided to go on a date to Chuck E. Cheeses.

She left my office and I leaned back in my chair. I was confident, like an old man stealing candy from a baby. I also was hungry and decided to stop by the local market to pick up a frozen pizza. But then my detective senses came on and I realized that I was 15 years old and I didn't have a car, nor could I drive. Hmmm, it looked like I should've thought of that before I took the case or made dates with hot dames. The sounds of Ritchie Valens' number one hit, "La Bamba" was going through my ears as I leaned back into my chair once again, twirling my hackysack.

It looked like I was up chocolate river without a candy cane stick paddle.