How many of you took typing class in Junior High? It was not the macho thing to do in the fall of 1969. The boys who took Athletics (those on football or basketball teams) qualified for a testosterone exemption and were not required to take typing. Those of us who were deemed lazy, uncoordinated, or neutered because of low IQ got to experience the joy of creating artwork by typing fifty-two Xs in a row, followed by six lowercase Rs, then more Xs, and occasionally a few irritable vowels.
I didn’t mind. There were a lot of cute girls in that class and it was still one step above Home Economics on the scale of socially degrading elective courses a boy my age could enroll in. I never dreamed the skills I learned in typing would come in so handy later in life. Just look at all those pretty pictures on my padded walls.
If you’re new to Friday Flash Fiction, the biker babe whose husband graciously supplied this week’s photo is Venus de Filo Wisoff-Fields. If you’d like to participate in this exercise in madness, head over to her blog for step-by-step instructions. To view the FFF Hollywood Squares Authors Block click here.
Mrs. Fannie Balderdash
69 Slut Street
Havertown, PA 19083
I was devastated to learn of your affair with my best friend, Harvey Ennis. Mere words cannot describe how deeply you’ve hurt me. Didn’t our twenty-four years of marriage mean anything to you?
The timing of your infidelity struck like a dagger to the heart. You knew we had a tournament this weekend and that Harvey always shoots the lowest score of our foursome. Where are we supposed to find another player of his caliber on such short notice?
Rot in hell, you inconsiderate wench!
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