So, the SOB runs out of money and concocts this idea with one of his friends to call Mrs SOB. “Hello, Is this Mrs. SOB.?”
“Yes, this is she.” Mrs SOB. was a reasonably educated woman who worked as a bookkeeper with three kids to support and a drunken, gambler, ne’er-do-well, unemployable husband. She had had enough of it: Camping in a tent near a creek in the summer, moving from place to place, kids changing schools, never enough to clothe and feed them properly. So, she became a bookkeeper by taking night classes at adult ed after her shift at the cannery.
They were having Brussels Sprouts again tonight. The plant didn’t really notice if the workers took home a few sprouts now and then. Whenever they were working they managed some food at least. Mrs SOB had a whole retinue of recipes for Brussels Sprouts:
- Brussels Sprouts and ham
- Brussels Sprouts and ham and potatoes
- Brussels Sprouts and onions chopped over rice
- Brussels Sprouts as a side dish with macaroni and cheese
- Brussels Sprouts served cold with mayonnaise
- Brussels Sprouts marinated in salad dressing and served on crackers
- Brussels Sprouts with tomato sauce and spaghetti
- Brussels Sprouts with sausage and eggs, etc…
The list went on and on.
Jim, her oldest boy, was already having problems in school. The teacher and the kids picked on him. He would get teased on the play ground, get into a tussle, and get sent to the principal to get paddled or made to stand on the wall with the other miscreants. When he got home he would eat a Brussels Sprouts sandwich with mayonnaise and hope that his old man wouldn’t beat the crap out of him for no reason other than he had red hair and buck teeth.
At school he was called out for being stupid and made to sit in shame while the teacher repeatedly asked him questions he couldn’t fathom smacking him in the head with a ruler each time he answered incorrectly or finally refused to answer at all. It did nothing for Jim who began a lifelong commitment to truancy and petty crime.
So the SOB’s friend calls and says, “I’m sorry to have to inform you that the SOB has died. You can either send me $200 to bury him or for $1200 we can ship the body back to you. Which do you prefer?”
Mrs SOB takes the deal and wires the friend $200 through Western Union.
Thinking now that the SOB is dead, she will be able to file for widows benefits for her minor children. She fills out the necessary paper work dreaming about how her life will improve now that she is free from the SOB. But the answer from the Social Security office is that he is still alive and living in Fresno with another woman. She is angry, but fooled again no more. The SOB finally does drink himself to death and she is freed.
Jim ends up in the Arizona State Pen for armed robbery. He is forced to labor in the blistering sun growing cotton and other crops. His red hair and fair skin get burned to a crisp. He has inflamed testicles and a huge angry rash spreads all over his groin and thighs. He has heat stroke and spends a day in the infirmary getting re-hydrated. While there he makes friends with Goose who is in for arson; he set his wife’s house on fire when he catches her cheating with another man. Ironically, he was never faithful to another woman and Jim never stole another thing in his life. But they smoked a lot of weed together in San Francisco in 1967.
(First published 6/22/11)
