Vanessa, David, and I were having breakfast at Sandbar. I was trying to kill two birds with one stone—meet with David to go over some wedding details for Victoria House and catch up with Vanessa about catering for another event.
We had just ordered when a tourist couple came in and sat at the table next to us. We greeted them with a friendly, “Good morning.”
The man smiled and said, “Good morning! Where are you folks from?”
David replied, “Well, I’m originally from Texas. But my wife here”—he nodded toward Vanessa—“she’s from Quebec. Excuse her, though—she can’t hear too well this morning. She went diving and got water stuck in her ear. Still has gauze in it.”
I added, “I’m Melody. I’m from Belize.”
The tourist raised an eyebrow. “Belize, huh?”
David smirked and said, “Yeah, she says she’s from Belize… but I’m pretty sure she’s from Looney Tune Land.”
I gave him the look. The one that says: say one more thing and you’ll need gauze too.
Then we all laughed, and I added, “We all call Belize home now.”
Feeling comfortable with us now, the tourist leaned back and said, “Actually—funny story. I once dated a woman from Quebec. Let me tell you, she was fiery. Nagged me all day and night. Ran through my money like a hurricane, flirted with my friends, and still made me feel like I was the problem.”
Vanessa perked up, catching just enough through her waterlogged ear. “Wait—what are you talking about? David? What is the man saying?”
David didn’t miss a beat. He looked at the tourist, then back at Vanessa.
“This man thinks he knows you.”
The events and characters depicted in Wolfe’s Woofer by Melody S. Wolfe are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. The column is intended for satire and entertainment purposes only.
