Showing posts with label short story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label short story. Show all posts

Saturday, July 25, 2015

DINNER AT THE BAR



From my briefcase... thought I'd post to my blog. Hope you enjoy...

Dinner At The Bar  by Ritzy Ritzhaupt


 A not so lovely Thursday had just happened to Miss Beth. She was exhausted, hungry and in desperate need of some relaxation. 

Where else, but to the local bar where she could enjoy some people watching, she thought as she parked her car over one street.

Upon entering the bar she was greeted with glad tidings from the duty bartender, she knows them all. They had started their shift at six pm and were in rare form, already a line was forming to order drinks. Miss Beth was given the last open stool at the bar by the duty bartender Paul, as she called him by his first name and rarely used his bar nickname of “Frog”. He was given that nickname because he makes you think of a little boy at play, treasuring a frog in his pocket. I know its lame, but most the staff has nicknames. Miss Beth only resorts to calling him “Frog” when he is busy and the only way he pays attention when super busy, is when he’s called by the childish name, Frog. 

“Hey, what’s good on the menu?” The oversized gent, in the slouched cowboy hat asked the cook, as he came out from behind the bar.

“Oh, Fritos, potato chips,” he blandly replied to his most obnoxious customer.

“Cookie, you have a better idea than that.” The frustrated, would be dinner shrugged with disgust. “I’m just trying to buy a meal here,” he let fly to the other patrons of the bar.

Cookie had been walking behind the bar and took the last few steps to the front door for a quick smoke break, as it closed on his reply, “Don’t need your crap today.” His eyes rolled in disgust at having to p l e a s e this customer.  He inhaled deeply, the pungent smoke from his fancy and pricey, blue cigarettes. He quickly darted around the corner of the barber shop and out of sight, as he hid in the peaceful ally.

“Don’t tell me, you had another run in with Harvey?” Luke shook his head to acknowledge the futility of Cookie trying to appease Harvey over food. “Geez, I think you two would learn by now. Can’t you just let him order?”

“It’d be fine if he’d just order. No, he’s got to demand extras. You know, like the Linda salad. I could kill that girl for coming up with that god damn salad. It’s got ta have avocado slices and extra onions on the damn thing. We’re just a bar not a four star restaurant!” Cookie puffed on his cigarette, showing his misshapen front teeth, as he growled in disgust. Watching Cookie pace as he puffed, made it truly hard to belief that he had been one heck of a woman in his six inch heels on Halloween. The spaghetti straps and ponytail almost fooled patrons, until he turned around revealing his beard. 

Harvey adjusted his cowboy hat as he taped his earpiece to answer an incoming call. “No, man that’s fixed, your computer is ready to use. Yup, did that too. Okay. Yes, call me if you have trouble.” He owned his own business repairing and making work, outdated computers for small businesses, individuals and a couple of private schools. He sold new package deals too. They included fully loaded computers with whatever a company or person required. A majority of his costumers were befuddled by today's technologically and constantly needed to be walked through the logging on process by Harvey.
He sat back in his stool, grateful for the back and arms that made it so comfortable. He allowed his shoes to slip to the floor and rested his stocking feet on the metal rail. In full comfort, he intently studied the blue paper menu, as if seeing it for the first time.
He set his empty Bud Light down sideways on the bar and gave it a little spin. This was his special signal, he was ready for another. The bartender’s kept track on his coaster with pen marks, so they could easily see how many he had, it was vital to keep track. He’d order the maximum number of drinks he’d consume for the night. He always paid with cash, making a person wonder, if he was hiding out from someone. A wad of bills would appear just before Happy Hour ended, to get cheaper prices. The bartenders delivered one beer at a time, keeping the rest cold until he was ready for another brew.  

Starlite, the bouncy bartender, asked him for his dinner order, as she tossed his dead bottle in the recycle bin and popped the lid off a fresh brew.  She was the thinnest woman he had ever seen, maybe a size one or two, but she had a set of sisters that made every man stare. Harvey took in the full view with pleasure. He continued to gaze as she marked his coaster with another hash mark. 

Oh, here it comes… wait… Oh, he could have shot Bobby for walking in just then, Harvey held his breath. Bobby got a welcoming “Hello,” from Starlite, before she continued to bend lower, unloading the dishwasher. 

He was sure his heart would stop beating or beat so fast he’d need the aid car. The view was easily worth the wait, big lushes melons… He had to do something before he burst. “Girl, I’m gonna have the double stack burger. Leave off the pickle, lightly salted fries and some ranch. I’d really like a little horseradish on the side.

Miss Beth slid up behind him as he continued to give his order and her breast touched his back. 

Harvey gave a throaty, “Mmmmm,” as he leaned back, pressing into her, to see who was being so generous with their welcoming gesture. “Hey girl, how’s it going?” He quipped with the sheer pleasure of feeling up a woman without having to do a thing.

“Sweet,” she grinned devilishly, she knew he had enjoyed the contact, as she adjusted the stool next to him, persuading her girth into the space. Dissatisfied by how she was placed, she dismounted, moved the stool and climbed up again. 

The second bartender, Chase, deepened his smile as he watched her commandeer the bar. Miss Beth didn’t do a thing but act natural. She had no clue of the power she held over the men. It made him chuckle as he placed her shot of Rockin’ Rye in a big glass. She had explained to him, “It allows walking around room and I never lose a drop.” He placed a large glass of ice water with a slice of lemon next to her liquor. He knew he’d be filling up that glass of ice water a few more times, before she came close to drinking the rye. Boy, can she nurse a drink… Chase thought, as she took a tiny sip of the rye and a large swallow of water.

When he’d first started working at the bar, she drew him close and said, “We can be friends as long as you understand you never, ever remove my liquor glass until I say I’m done with it, even if it looks empty. And keep my water filled. You take care me, I take care you, got it?” She asked with a stern stare giving him her directions for proper service, with the tenor of an old schoolmarm instructing her distracted students.

“Yes, mama,” Chase answered looking solemn, as thought he’d been given an order by the President himself.   

“Thank you,” She sweetly said with all the warmth his mom would give. It made him feel as though he should dive in for a good sized hug, but he restrained himself. He wasn’t sure he’d get punched by the capable older woman. She cocked her head as she told him, “Chase you have the most divine dimples I’ve ever seen… mm, mm, mm,” she sighed. 

He was dazzled by her words and declared right then and there, to be a fan of the blunt, Miss Beth.

“Hey, Dragman,” she said sending a wave and a wink to the big biker at the end of the bar, once she had comfortably reseated herself.

He was standing, meticulously peeling the label off his soon to be empty beer bottle, being careful to keep it in tack. He stacked it with three other labels. Each was neatly rolled into a skinny tube from beers he’d previously downed. “Where you been hiding? Haven’t seen you around for some time?” An overly abundant amount of facial hair danced as he talked with his glasses perched on the end of his nose. He resembled Santa in stature and beard, making it hard to watch him indulge in straight shots between beers. You just knew Santa wouldn’t do such a thing. 

“Busy,” Miss Beth replied with a teasing grin and a flutter of her unpainted eyelids. She gave him her most mischievous shrug, leading his mind down a dangerous path.
Cookie stood in front of Miss Beth and asked, “You eating dinner?” 

“Yes,” She nodded seductively. This was Miss Beth, clueless to the way she appeared… very sexual. He leaned in closer draping his right arm all the way across the bar, separating her and Harvey, putting his back to him, he asked in a lowered voice, “Do you think you’d enjoy some ribs I made, tender and sweet?” Only a few knew, he’d picked up something special to prepare food for the crew and a few invited patrons.

“I love pork ribs… yummy.” She said, in a whisper with exaggerated gestures.  “Yes, p-l-e-a-s-e.” as she stretched her chin in the air making it seem very luscious, like part of a sex act.

Harvey leaned over whispering, “He’s in love with you, you know?” He really wanted to know how she got such service. “Geez,” he muttered as he stood to go outside. He could hear her explosive gaffs of contagious laughter, even standing out on the sidewalk.

Minutes later Cookie set a hot plate of tender ribs in front of the heartily laughing Miss Beth. One bite told her they were superb! Whatever he made she’d eat. She motioned for Chase to come over. “Put whatever Cookie wants to drink on my tab.”

The men watched her devour the ribs, licking sauce from the side of her mouth with pleasurable, mmms added. She slowly licked each finger with heavenly gusto. The men were intent on watching her as they created their own sexual fantasies. They never noticed Chase watching the whole scene play out. He only hoped the owner had the surveillance cameras rolling as he normally did, since the eating process made for a killer scene. 

Straight shots of liquor were ordered by all the men at the bar as they continued to gap. Their mouths hung open as she clean each bone of its meat. She sucked each rib of the thick, red, rich sauce with an added, 'Mmmm". Some even licked their lips as they took in her display.

Miss Beth certainly knows how to enjoy her food, thought Chase, as he chuckled to himself.

Copyright 2015 all rights reserved
 

Saturday, June 7, 2014

I Killed Her - a short story by Rizy Ritzhaupt

   I Killed Her                                                                

      by Ritzy Ritzhaupt  2014 ©


“I know I’m guilty. Yes, I killed her­­­­”, she confessed to the officer with big hand gestures.
“I wanted her out of my life. She was a problem, a huge pain in my ass! She caused me tons of extra work”, she slurred as though in a fog­. Like a spinning top when it ends, she toppled into the nearest chair, finally sitting but far from calm as she continued to fidget in her chair.
.
“Mmmmm,” the detective said as he watched her for a moment, before he went into the other room for coffee. “Would you like a cup of coffee, ah…?”  he directed to the woman that had just confessed, as she stared blankly at the detective.

“Coffee?” she asked as though on another planet, appearing muddled, trying to hide her emotions. “Coffee, not too hot with two sugars,” she requested. “Linda,” she told him her name. He motioned for another officer to get the coffee.

“Okay Linda, go over what happened and don’t leave anything out.” He instructed, giving her the fresh cup of coffee as he sat down across from her. 

“She was there, in front of the full length mirror, when I entered my bedroom.”

“Who was there, in front of the mirror?” he cocked his head to listen closer to her response.

“Maryanne, she was wearing my new evening gown!” she leaned forward to express her shock at the woman entering her home uninvited, as she continued. “I had just bought it to wear to my college reunion. My new dress!” she yelled, all her words ran together with hardly a breath between, as she reared up on the edge of her chair!

“Who is Maryanne? And then what happened?” he nudged her memory.

“She turned to face me”, Linda paused, sucking air into her deprived lungs, as her eyes were wide and dazed, as though in disbelief. She felt she was at the scene of the crime as it played out in her mind’s eye. “She laughed at me… she, she stood there and laughed at me as she made the dress twirl around. She laughed.” Linda mumbled as she sobbed, rising, she fell toward him. He grabbed her, before she crumpled to the floor and gently placed her back in her chair.

“Okay. Than what happened Linda?” he encouraged in a softer voice, encouraging her to tell more.

“Maryanne didn’t stop.” She focused her eyes just above his head, as she slowly formed each word, as though she was once again in the same room with Maryanne.

“Oh”, he empathized as he moved closer, watching her facial expressions.

 “It’s my dream! My dress! My life! I had to make her stop! I had to!” Linda faintly screamed, tearing at her clothes as she lunged toward him, pounding her fist on his chest.as she wanted to push him away.

“Okay, okay,” the detective, said as he tried to get her to reveal more without hitting him.
“What did you do next?” he continued.

“I plunged the knife into her heart!” she sobbed, wringing her hands.

“The knife?” he asked, glancing at the other officer with a questioning look.

“Yes, the knife. I stabbed her with the damn knife! I stabbed her, again and again. Each time I shoved it deeper and deeper. I thought it would break off but it didn’t.” She stared, wide eyed with glee as the scene replayed out in her minds-eye. It was as though Maryanne seemed to fade into the distance. She’ll never bother me again. She mumbled, as she stared blankly at the detective, the bitch is gone. She expressed to him, in soft heated words.

“Where did you get the knife?”

“I don’t know… it was in my hand!” she yelled distracted.

“Mmmm,” escaped from his lips as he continued to listen.

“I… ah, I… ah, I don’t know,” she looked at him stunned by what she said as she tried to remember where she had gotten the knife. “I don’t know. I killed her, I killed her”, she sobbed in distress, looking at her hands as though they were the enemy.

“You killed her?” He stared at the other officer shrugging his shoulders. “And then what did you do? Did you leave? Did you try to clean up the mess?

“The mess, yes, the mess, it was everywhere. No, I left the mess.”

“What did you do with Maryanne’s body?” he calmly asked Linda.

“I… I… I don’t… remember, I don’t know.”

A uniformed police officer entered the room shaking his head as he handed the investigator a note with Linda’s address across the top.

The note read, “No body – No blood – Large butcher knife – One shredded party dress”. He handed the note back. All the officers took turns reading the message; some revealed a slight snicker, holding back any sound.

“Are you sure Maryanne was dead?” he asked frowning as he visualized the note.

“She’s dead… she’s dead… yes, she’s dead!” the words dripped from her lips as though drops of blood slipped between them, in total frustration she wrenched the words from her mouth.

“How many times did you stab her?” He shrugged to the other officers viewing the interrogation through the large mirror, as he spoke. They all had become transfixed by the woman’s confession.

“Six, ten times, lots, I don’t remember exactly,” she mumbled counting on her fingers, trying to keep track of her slashing stabs.

“ Hmmmm… Where was this blood?”  He hoped for some answers that made sense.

“I told you, it was everywhere.” Her sigh, could be heard around the room

“Everywhere?” the officer repeated with a raised eyebrow of doubt.

“Her blood was on the bed, the mirror, the floor, the dress, everything was covered”, she exclaimed as she smacked her hands on the table, confused by their continued questions. She wondered if they were blind and couldn’t see Maryanne’s blood, as they kept pushing her for more information.

“Did you wash your hands after you stabbed Maryanne?” His eyes crinkled in total disbelief. He glanced into the mirror acknowledging the other officers. He was sure they also sighed with disbelief at Linda’s story.

“Yes, I washed my hands. No, I don’t… remember. They, were clean, yes, I washed them. There was blood everywhere. I killed her. I killed Maryanne, she’s gone.” She clutched at her heart as she spoke, realizing the truth once again, she had killed Maryanne!

“Did you wash the blood off the knife?”

“I don’t remember what I did with the knife!” she whined, confused by the same questions.

“How big was the knife?”

“How big?” She acted exasperated, fidgeting, “I don’t know” she spit out, revealing her frustration.

“Did you put the knife by the dress?”

“I don’t remember. I stabbed her with a knife many times. I killed Maryanne and she’ll never come back. She is gone forever more. Gone, do you understand?” she yelled annoyed at his repeated stupid questions!


“If she’s dead, than where did her body go and all the blood?” the investigator asked as he leaned over her.

Linda lowered herself back into the chair and flopped forward. Resting her head on her arms, she sobbed. Heavy exhausted sobs making her back heave up and down. In a daze, she, herself become Maryanne and then herself and her weary and wondering brain. Exhaustion left her limp in her chair as she softly said, “I murdered her”.

The detective left the interrogation room as Linda continued to sob. He walked over to the over detectives that had also been watching the interview.  He sent a female detective to bring Linda some tissues and help calm her down. He wanted to know what other detectives viewing them thought had happened

           “What do you think happened? What did she do with the body? Who is Maryanne? Got to get a last name, I have no idea who Maryanne is or if she’s even real.” He questioned as he asked the other officers for their input.

           “I think we need the psychologist to check her out. No blood found, that is very unusual.”  The observant female detective words filled the room as she spoke.

“So, it had to be there in her room… did she kill her somewhere else?”  Pent up thoughts were spoken from others, that had also viewed the exchange.






Tuesday, February 25, 2014

RAIN

RAIN
by Ritzy Ritzhaupt
 
Smile, it's raining in Seattle.
Tiny little drops wash the makeup away.

Breath taking moisture caresses you with soft gentle drops, that should annoy, but their tender sweetness makes you feel alive.  It had been a lovely day to be outdoors.

In Seattle it's said, "If you don't like the weather, wait ten minutes and it will change".  Many times that's exactly what happens. Then, there are those days that melt your heart, certainly not from the heat, but from a glorious beauty. 

Mountain ranges and blue water touch your inner most thoughts.  It's in one of those moments, when a rhythm burst forth deep from within the raw you.

The excitement and beauty claim your soul; your entire being, holding you in a wondrous embrace that comforts the being, to the core of its existence.

Feeling as though, one being wrapped in swaddling clothes. The embrace captures the essence of whom and what you are.

Your embedded with bands of steel giving knowledge and caring love, to the flesh that is known to be the person I think is special, a true Washingtonian.

Copyright 2014 All rights reserved

Friday, April 12, 2013

MY GUY and Leaving Ritzy Things


My Guy and Leaving Ritzy Things
by Ritzy Ritzhaupt 

We only had a 30 day notice that the lease would not be renewed on my knit shop. It was not enough time to sell off the contents of the shop. New inventory arrived on a daily basis since it was too late to stop the orders. We were not only overwhelmed but broadside by this news. My husband and I diligently slaved for that last month trying to liquidate the inventory and move the complete contents of the shop. 

We had plans on how to sell off the remaining inventory once we moved out and caught our breath. We had enjoyed a wonderful group of customers. Many of our saddened customers came in to help us pack things up and load boxes onto the truck for the storage units. It was just too much to sell off that quickly. With heavy hearts we closed our doors never to open again. 

I never had that chance to catch my breath... Let me step back in time to the prior September 2002. I faintly started to hear a soft voice echoing in my head that continued for months. The voice repeated these words and only these words, over and over again, "It only takes an instant." Being a mother with adult children, my thoughts immediately turned to some tragedy that might involve them our grandchildren. At odd moments during the day I would hear this phrase repeated in my head. 

I than came to my senses, I realized I didn't have control over my children or grandchildren and their lives. I began to doubt that this was a warning that meant they were in danger. Still, I heard... "It only takes and instant". 

I stood in front of my shop, admiring the success I had created with the beginning funds of only $250.00 many years ago with the help from my darling husband. Oh, yes, it had taken time and lots of energy, but I had created what I desired. Wow! It was a powerful feeling. Joy, pride and the greatest fullness that comes with success, all washed over me. I stood in the parking lot, proudly gazing at the neon sign above my store, which I had seen, but not seen for years. I again heard the voice. "It only takes an instant." Of course, I did the only logical thing; I strongly ignored it! 

Then when the "voice" continued to ring in my head, I felt the warning must be meant for me. I started being more cautious in my regular activities and always saying what I meant... but that's a good thing over all. This seemed to send the voice a ways farther back into the distance. 

I was happy with my life, I'd achieved my goals, not perfectly but my dreams were fulfilled. I was on top of the world. I was madly in love with my guy and he was head over heels in love with me. He handled all the household stuff and I worked the knit shop. He treated me like his queen, as if I were a precious commodity, cherished and very loved. 

My guy was a romantic at heart. A sweet and tender soul, he loved nothing more than to make me happy. He did so many little things to light up my day or just because. He'd be the one to get lunch for us or get our morning latte. He'd come back with hugs and kisses as though he'd been gone for a week. In other words, we couldn't stand to be apart. We truly enjoyed each other’s company. He had traveled the world in a submarine but wanted nothing more than to be by my side. His years aboard a submarine had given him a talent for packing goods into small spaces. He always amazed me how he could make a huge quantity of stuff shrink into a tiny space. 

He was my forest of protection, always there offering his arms for safety. My strength, my very being had been securely entwined in him. We were two strong individuals but one whole. We were close as though we breathed for each other. He was my senior and that always gave me pause, yet, he didn't act that old. He acted and behaved much younger. He had learned to take time to smell the roses too. 

One early dawn he came back into the house and gently woke me. "Come quick, you have to see this." He wrapped my robe around me and threw my jacket on top of that. It was a cold November morning at daybreak. When we stepped off the porch and looked to the east over the top of the barn... we became bathed in the most glorious sunrise ever. We shared that moment as close as two beings can, as we shivered in the morning crispness watching the sky unfold its glorious show. He gave me one of his lushes big hugs and placed me back on the porch with kisses a bunch. "I love you sweetie," he said as he planted a parting kiss on my lips, as though he was going out to sea for months.  

Back to the July 17, 2003 ten days after closing. We were starting our new life without the shop and all our shop friends. We still hadn't tried to move any of the many stacks of boxes that cluttered the house. We did a little jig-jag to dance around them when going from room to room. We knew we had lots of time to figure them out. First we would eliminate the storage units and then un-clutter the house.  

A week and a half later we needed to buy groceries and decided a trip to the base would be something to cheer us up. He seemed tired but I thought he was still trying to catch up on rest from the move. I knew I still felt deflated. He had made a doctor’s appointment for the following Monday morning. He took more time and waited in the car while I did some of the shopping. When we got home, we both unloaded the groceries from the car. He took the frozen foods down to the basement freezer. 

We were both exhausted from our trip out and had a simple dinner. We popped in a movie since nothing else sparked our interest. I started to lie down on the couch and realized I just might fall asleep. I quickly sprang back up and looked him in the eye from across the room. 
"I love you babe," I said.  
"Ahhhh, you do?" He answered back with one of his big lopsided grins and a question in his voice.
"With all my heart," I reassured him.
"I love you to babe," he said as he continued to eat a bowl of fruit. 
 I laid back down with the knowledge that all was right in my world. 

Sad to say, it didn't last long. I soon realized I was at the threshold of change. The clock revealed 2 am. He wasn't in his recliner. I didn't know what, but something seemed very wrong. I was aware that I was not hearing the voice and the lack of it made the hair stand up on the back of my neck. Those events have been the hardest I have ever had to walk through. The realization that there was nothing I could do to change them, that hit me hard.

I now appreciated how the Hawaiian King, in the book Hawaii, had climbed to the top of the mountain and gouged out his eye at the loss of his beloved wife. If I could just find a high enough mountain or a sharp enough knife, I too could cut out my pain. It has been a long hard road.
Ed wanted our flag out front; after all, he retired after serving 20 years in the US Navy on submarines. He enjoyed helping me in the shop. He thrived when working behind the counter where his perfect scrip made each ticket readable by the accountant. He told many of his submarine stories to knitter’s spouses as their wives shopped for yarn and patterns. Young and old would sit around the large worktable learning to knit and purl as they pictured the waves crashing over his submarine as the boat road out a storm. Most of his stories were laughter filled and some were nail biters. 

When an out of sort’s toddler appeared, he would enchant them into a realm of construction as he showed them how to make a large swatch on the knitting machine or led them to the toy box and offered to read them a story. There were times; it was almost magical as he wooed them into quiet time while mom shopped. This was intriguing to watch since he stood six feet four inches tall and most toddlers came to his knee.

Ed New Year's
 
Our last trip together New Year’s 2002 to Vancouver BC. 

Ed photo

 






In fond memory of my beloved husband, Edward D. Ritzhaupt CPO USN Retired
07/12/1929 - 07/18/2003 



© 2015 by Ritzy Ritzhaupt, All rights reserved