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Patrick A Granfors

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Strawberry Green Springs
By Patrick A Granfors
Posted: Monday, November 08, 2010
Last edited: Monday, September 23, 2013
This short story is rated "G" by the Author.

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Recent stories by Patrick A Granfors
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Sage sent me a funny commentary last week. This is what came out of it. No idea what to do with it, sort of dorky, but OK how many wines and liquors can you find?

Chapter one....maybe

Annie Greensprings and Strawberry Hill were chums. Cute and sweet but immature and most of the bigger boys considered them to be kind of fruity, with a screw top or two loose, but still a cheap date and lots of fun. They could be found hanging around inside the local Circle K perusing the latest Seventeen Magazine but they were really on the prowl.  They each had a crush on him but neither would admit it and neither had so much as pecked him on the cheek although each of their agendas contained other plans.

 

He drove an old Thunderbird convertible. The engine had been fortified of course which created the false impression that it might make your head spin but the interior was tasteless and devoid of any redeeming qualities except for a great big back seat. Up on the dashboard it had one of those bobble head dogs, a daschund, you know, a wiener dog.  He named it Buddy and claimed it was a seeing eye dog. Buddy no doubt had seen a lot.

 

Mogen David had a nickname, mad dog 20/20. To be sure he was a wild twenty years old, invincible and cocky. Backseat rumors spoke of his prowess, the other 20 in Mogen’s numbers moniker.  Only Buddy could say for sure as he nodded his big head up and down keeping time with the Ripple of backseat undulations. Mogen was sweet, almost syrupy sweet, the kind you knew was a put on, but somehow it didn’t matter.  Still, too much of him could make you gag so you had to be careful. He loved his Southern Comfort and a simple cotton belt didn’t have a chance against his charms.

 

Annie and Strawberry often imagined what it would be like but in their hearts they really knew he was trouble. The two had never really done anything wrong before, except the time they took a bunch of apples from the Boone’s Farm family orchard. They had each given them all to a local food pantry in need. Who said two wrongs don’t make a right?

 

Jack Daniels, Annie’s step father and Jim Beam, Strawberry’s uncle that’s who. They didn’t think that was right at all.  So the four all took a short ride to town to see the authorities.  Captain Morgan had been forewarned, although the girls had no idea. He gave them a brief tour of the facilities and locked them up for a couple of hours. They left scared but educated. The next month’s weekends consisted of pulling weeds at the courthouse.

 

Their dues were paid and they had been forgiven for the most part. Jack and Jim forbid them mingling at any sort of mixer, keeping them on ice, straight and narrow. This did not sit well with the budding young socialites.

 

Then one night the Bacardi brothers came calling at the Circle K. Despite the fact they were brothers one had a very light complexion, the other quite dark. This was the subject of much speculation. They both acted rummy half the time and were constantly on the constables watch list.

 

Flashing their mojito smiles, they produced a Wild Irish Rose for each of the girls. Their invitation for a ride around town was accepted gleefully. The brothers then told them that they were headed over to see Mogen David for a few minutes if that was OK. Of course, it was, Absolutely.

 

The course was set. Against the rising moon, the silhouette of a Grey Goose and a Cold Duck could be seen dancing gracefully above the treetops, while a mad dog sat licking his chops.

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2010 Patrick Granfors

 

 

 

 


 

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Reviewed by Sandi Schraut 5/4/2012
a real example of liquor is quicker, lol! Sandi
Reviewed by Sage Sweetwater 11/19/2010
I didn't censor that commentary either! I have been late in getting here, so many Boones Farms to sample and one thing leads to another, namely Jim Beam! Three bits a bottle for Boones Farm in 1977 and the drive-up window knew my name, just barely eighteen and still illegal but I knew the Strawberry Hill King, so skipping 6th period and bogarting the Farms, Mad Dog, and Annie Green Springs made me the foosball champion with loose wrist action! Thanks for the memories, Patrick. You used my commentary in the best possible way, Oh, they put labels on everything!

Love,
Sage
Reviewed by Peter Schlosser (Reader) 11/9/2010
I think you really hit the Maker's Mark on this one Patrick.
Reviewed by Chip Bergeron 11/8/2010
Where were Martini and Rossi when all this was happening???

Chip Bergeron
Reviewed by Annabel Sheila 11/8/2010
Not really a drinker so I only found nine......cute story!

Anna
Reviewed by JASMIN HORST SEILER 11/8/2010
Yikes, a good memory you have still!!!!!!!Blessings! Jasmin Horst
Reviewed by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado 11/8/2010
Excellent story, Patrick, enjoyed~

(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Texas, Karen Lynn. :D


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