Satire is a strong part of trying to understand why the world is as it is. Usually humorous, it poses, answers and reposes questions asked and unasked. What follows is a gentle bit of satire.
Get that shake so you can share this with Grimace, and imagine a mosquito and the family heading out for a winter vacation.
Dear O, we made it to Florida before that big storm hit. Me and the girls just can’t take the snow and frigid cold, and the blood supply is low. Competing with the Red Cross for every drop is too complicated, you know. We always say if you got it, give it, the greatest gift of life one can give.
Anyway, the girls and I had a comfortable flight down we all had Bloody Marys, whooping and hollering as plans were made.
Suzanne wanted to try our luck at a theme park. Spandex is her thing, the leastest covering the mostest.
Diana said, “No, let’s hit the beach zone, a rare steak with all the sand bums.”
Marybeth said, “No, let’s really make out and hit the rich. Let’s go to Mar-a-Lago. They got a rich blood supply.”
Marybeth just loves money. We argued as girlfriends do and then the plane landed. Giggling and slightly tipsy, we exited the plane and into a feast for the eyes. So much open real estate to see. We were hungry.
The beaches are so lush. So much real estate to explore and develop. Spandex really does stretch. Angie shrieked and began singing when she saw the patio at Mar-a-Lago. So gorgeous with all the glimmering glitz of sunshine on pond water. King Midas would be green with envy at all the gold on display.
We girls did what all good bar flies do. We mingled. We nibbled. We sipped. And we danced.
As County skeeters, we knew a few steps and it was a sight. Buck Edwards could set the stepping beat on his guitar, in, out, dancing away the dusk. Land on the ground, feet wide and grin wider. Dip the nose to the ground and punch on through. Inhale. The partner responds with a shake and a swish. Squeal with delight. Repeat. Dodge the hand and wiggle away. What a sight to see. Party time with glitz, doing the mosquito two-step. We were going viral! We County skeets can party hearty.
But we have families to feed. Ten, 20, 50 hundreds to feed in the mosquito family. All this beachfront property folding and unfolding, a kaleidoscope of tones reminiscent of maple syrup.
Poor Suzanne, she was doing great. Until she ran into the Botox mine. She punched through only to bend her proboscis on an injection site. Botox blunder! Soon we all were crashing into the Botox wall. Beauty was hurting. A fleet of ambulances hauled us into the hospital. It was just like the body shop on a Monday after an ice storm. Man, was it fun. That was a party.
Suzanne just finished in X-ray. Nothing broken, just bent. Sigh. My turn.
Ciao. See you this summer.
Orpheus Allison is a photojournalist in The County who graduated from UMPI and earned a master of liberal arts degree from the University of North Carolina. He began his journalism career at WAGM television, worked around the U.S., and later changed careers and taught in China and Korea.
