Friday, April 1, 2016

The Story About Cupid on Page One

Yep, it's my buddy Cupid!
(Well, this is how he's going to look
 on the book cover anyway.)

"How about we do some work on our book this morning?" I asked Cupid, the once but not future Greco-Roman God of Love whose memoir The Boy Who Shoots the Arrows I was co-authoring.

"Okay, Perry, shoot!" replied Cupid.

“Shoot? Was that a bit of industry humor, Cupid?

“Sure was! Good to see my collaborator caught it.”

Cupid and I had been working for several weeks now on our mutual effort to produce a memoir that would restore a bit of luster to his somewhat tarnished image since he had stepped down as the antiquarian God of Love as well as hopefully render me rich and famous and a sort of latter day God of Love for hot women the modern world over.

"Okay, my fine feathered friend,” I began “now that you are no longer the God of Love, are you still a God?  Or are you just an ordinary person, like Jeb Bush?”

"No, once a God, always a God. Let's just say I'm a God without Portfolio."

"Has there been any talk of your getting a new position?"

"Zeus offered me the job of God of Love for Bad Looking People, but I turned him down."

"I don't blame you.  Sounds really difficult."

"You'd be surprised.  A lot of people like Nicholas Cage." 

"I've been meaning to ask you:  Do your arrows still have any potency?"

"A little bit."

"So you can still make people fall in love?"

“No, no exactly.”

“What then?”

“I can make people admire your clothing." 

Just then the doorbell rang and I excused myself while Cupid set about grooming his wings.  Damn, that meant I’d be vacuuming feathers until midnight again!

I opened the door and it was my sometime girlfriend Sandra. 

"This is a surprise,” I said. “Do you want to come in and meet....?”

"No, Perry, and I don’t want to beat around the bush any longer either," she said nervously. "I think we should stop seeing see each other.”

"But why? I just bought a refrigerator magnet with your name on it." 

"I'll be direct.  You're not well-groomed, you wear your hair too long for someone who hasn't got any, and your table manners are straight out of the Three Stooges.”

“Well, you have to emulate someone!”

“And you're not assertive enough for me. All you do is sit around and watch movies and the only exercise you get is pushing your fore finger up and down on the clicker.”

“But wait till you see how it’s helped my thumb wrestling!”

"And, Perry, you’re just not cultured enough. Your idea of a great book has illustrations by someone named Bubbles, you think Shelley and Joyce are a couple of Jewish girls, and whenever we see a foreign movie you ask me to read the subtitles to you!"

"That's unfair, Sandra!  I only thought Joyce was Jewish."


From the next room I could hear Cupid unleashing one of his quietly invisible arrows in Sandra’s direction.  What a pal, he was doing what he could for me!

"I'm sorry, Perry," Sandra spoke softly.  “I'm afraid this is goodbye." 

I was crushed. Sandra turned to leave. Forever.

"Oh, by the way, Perry," she added brightly.  "I just love your shoes!"



  1. Aww, a happy ending. You must have been wearing Hushpuppies or those adorable little Barney house shoes you're so attached to.

    Promise to braid your ear hair and maybe she'll take you back.

    1. Yeah, I guess it was a happy ending after all, for Sandra that is. I wasn't sure where I was going with her character anyway, so I thought it was time to get rid of her at least for a while. Besides after my book is a smash hit, I'll be knee deep in women! Knee deep in really short women.