Episode 6

MY V.I.
(a soap opera)

Cindy's stolen moment of rest would be short lived. As she leaned back in Trudy's office chair a familiar roar approached which caused her to shout the dreaded name, "SIMZA!"

"Oh god, please don't let it be her," she mumbled as she bounded out of the office and through the kitchen door. But, alas, her fears were materializing right before her eyes. She watched, helplessly, as the tragic and most peculiar camper with a bad muffler jocked back and forth trying to wedge itself into a parking spot in front of the V.I.

The automobile, a 1973 American Motors Gremlin with a camper attached, belonged to a Romanian gypsy named Simza who had happened into the V.I. a couple of years before when the vehicle in question broke down on Marine Ave. Cindy, ever the helpful one, had taken pity upon the old soothsayer and generously offered the use of her Triple A card for towing and even recommended a repairman who's bill she eventually got conned into paying.

What gypsy doesn't love an easy mark and from that day forward Simza made regular pilgrimages to the V.I. to see her "beloved saint," Cindy. Each visit usually wound up costing Cindy at least $100.00.

"Hey, quick, come here!" Cindy yelled to Spencer.

Walking over, Spencer inquired, "What's up?"

"See that beat up blue car with the camper out front?"

"Yeah."

"There's and old gypsy woman driving it that's gonna come in here looking for me and I don't want to talk to her."

"O.k., so you want me to tell her you're not here?"

"Yeah, please. I'll be in the office."

"O.k., but I just put in an order for a bunch of drinks."

"Well, is it beer or wine, I mean, you can get those, can't you?"

"Some are beers but two are Blue Hawaiians and there's three Bahama Mama's."

Cindy hung her head in frustration then looked up again, "I'm gonna KILL Chrystal! O.k., never mind."

"I can tell them it'll be a minute if you want."

"No . . . I'll make the stupid drinks and deal with the crazy gypsy woman!"

Cindy stepped back behind the bar and grabbed the Blue Curacao to make the Blue Hawaiians and by the time she got to the well she could hear the familiar sounds and smell the familiar smells of Simza. The sound was a sort of rustling and clinking of glass and the smell was a combination of incense, patchouli, funky cheese and dirty gym socks.

"Cindy . . . my darling Cindy!" Simza cried with her deep Romanian accent as she entered the bar.

Everyone in the place turned and gave a unanimous look of shock and disbelief as the elderly, shabby Simza spun around three times clapping her hands and finishing with a loud, "HEY!".

Cindy called back, "Hello, Simza. Come sit here at the bar."

"Oh, of course my precious one . . . of course!"

As she made her way toward the bar her voluminous costume brushed up against everyone she passed, "Oh, sorry. Please, excuse, excuse me. I must see my precious Cindy. Sorry, please excuse me."

Finally, firmly planted on the last barstool, she extended her weathered hands to Cindy and smiled her semi-toothless smile.

"Oh Cindy. It's so good to see you, Cindy."

Cindy took her hands and smiled back with her perfectly bleached, invisalign straightened smile, "It's good to see you too, Simza. I see the car is still working."

"Oh yes. Thanks god for you Cindy!"

"Well I'm glad. So what brings you over this way my dear?"

"Well. I've been having GREAT worry for you."

"ME?" Cindy asked.

"Yes, Cindy and I wanted to come and do a special reading for your future."

"A special reading for my future, huh?"

"Yes."

"What's it gonna cost me?"

"Well, Simza is running a special today. One reading for two drinks. Special, just for you."

"Two drinks, huh?"

"Just for you and just for today!"

Cindy still had her two shift drinks so she figured, what the heck.

"O.k., I'll do it."

"O.k. but first, please . . . the drinks."

"Alright. What are you drinking?"

"Two Cuervo shots, chilled, no salt, in a rocks glass, one lime and a Modelo chaser."

"We don't have Modelo."

"Tecate?"

"No Tecate."

"Carta Blanca?"

"No Carta Blanca."

"Bohemia . . . Superior?"

"Nope."

" Mickey's Big Mouth?"

"NO! How about a Pacifico?"

Simza turned and spit on the floor. "That tastes like what the cat puts in the litter box!"

"Corona?"

"O.k., Corona's o.k. - I take a Corona."

TUNE IN NEXT TIME FOR ANOTHER EXCITING EPISODE OF MY V.I.