So I heard that Jerry, that’ll be Jerry the pimp, with a face that only a mother could love, “Am I right or am I right?” So Jerry, heads out, at the crack of dawn, in the rusty piece of crap, known as his car, to do the boss man a favor. It’s a quickie trip into town, that’s all. And, here’s where I come in.

As if it were the eleventh-hour, I mean, how long could it take, Jerry comes blasting into the parking lot, with the dust adding another layer to the raunchy bucket he calls the brown caddie. With crappola flying everywhere, so high it’s soaring over Danny, who’s five feet tall, and that five feet, by the way, includes his golf hat. So Danny, ...being the owner and all, and as luck would have it...for once...he was glad to see Jerry. He sent Jerry on a mission and all’s well that ends well and that...may be what we have here.

While, Danny, never one to have ants in his pants, I mean, how else could he run the show, if he was all bent out of shape. You gotta pay off a lot of people, to make the carnival fly in every town on the circuit. But...Danny, who’s the one to bust your balls, looks at Jerry, who’s just a few fries short of a happy meal; says, “For Christ’s sake. Can this guy, who’s thicker than a brick, get the simple job done!” Easy as pie, Jerry’s probably thinking to himself. Me, I’m thinking it’s easier than pimping...and getting caught with the goods like last stop. He knows better than to hook up with a townie. He could get killed, even I know that! So I see...Jerry’s trying to stay even keel...even while he waits for the other shoe to drop. And, I’m thinking to myself...all bets are off now. After all, rumor has it that Danny caught Jerry early one morning taking a long gander at one of the asses, you know, Sarah the donkey, that’s out in the back lot...it looked like Jerry was thinking of doing a little humpdy-dee with the little girl...so, Jerry’s trying to get right with Danny before he gets booted off the show. Then he’d be shit out outta luck. ‘Cause Jerry…being sharp as a marble...just might have screwed up. After all, every dog has his day!

Jerry abruptly stops the car, just short of hitting Danny and see him fly over the hood, which the thought of brings a smirk to my lips...Now Jerry, he’s got aces up his sleeves, catch my drift, and I notice he’s waiting to see which way the wind blows. He’s probably thinking…”Save your drama for yo mama”...and I say, full speed ahead. He opens the car door and sees that Danny is about ready to blow a gasket, and maybe...go head to head.

So, anyway...he opens the door, gets out, turns around and leans back in the car to the passenger side to get the goods, the package, the deal. It’s a balancing act, and whoa Nellie, as it starts to tip…oh boy, he’s maybe...gone and done it now. And...the catch is good…phew, that was close...Danny sneers, I mean, what’s a guy to do.

But I think, this is more fun to watch than a barrel of monkeys. So anyway, Danny takes the platter, yep, you heard me, a platter. This is all about a platter. So what’s on the friggin platter, I want to know. Well, can you believe it...in one fell swoop, a humungous black crow lands on the tin foil, covering the platter and starts pecking at it. Like Danny isn’t gunna go ballistic now...he’s balancing the platter and swatting the crow...Jerry gets close and swats the bird from behind, nearly knocking the platter out of Danny’s hands.

You’ll never guess what happens next. I hear a sweet voice, calling, “Danny, Danny...is that you, honey?”

“Be right there,” he says. Now holding the platter with both hands and I see him head to the trailer where the misses is waiting at the door, and believe me there is no time like the present.

He looks her in the eyes, and says, “Happy 30th Anniversary, Lovie.” (her nickname, ain’t that the cat’s meow?). She lifts the crow-pecked tinfoil and sees her favs...lox, bagels, cream cheese, capers, tomatoes and onions. Her eyes mist over...

So...just for now...Jerry’s off the hook. And, I say, another day another dollar.