This year Valentine’s Day got the whole month of February to itself.
Which is better than last year, when it came just the day before Mardi Gras, and all anybody got for Valentine’s Day was long beads.
Or the year before. Now THAT was a year. On Valentine’s Day, my mother-in-law Ms. Larda was gifted with, of all things, a pink flowered shock collar for her little dog, Chopsley. I got to admit, Chopsley is kind of a yapper. Her neighbor Earlyn brought it over all wrapped up pretty — nicer than saying, “Would you shut that dog up!?” I guess.
After Earlyn leaves, Ms. Larda wonders if this shock collar works. So she puts it on herself and yells “RUFF! RUFF! RUFF!” Well, she gets a shock that practically throws her across the kitchen. No way is she going to put THIS on her little Chopsley.
Anyway, the collar is way too big for a chihuahua. Plus, Chopsley is a boy. He got no use for pink. She sets it on the kitchen counter, mutters awhile and forgets about it.
A while later, her son Leech rushes in, looking frazzled, and says he forgot to buy a Valentine gift for his girlfriend Trinkette. Then he looks at the counter and says, “Oh, a collar necklace. It’s pretty.”
“Take it,” says Ms. Larda. “Take out the battery, first.”
But he don’t listen. That’s the thing about Leech. He don’t think things through. Any ordinary person would ask his mother, “Why do you have a collar-type necklace and gift wrap on the kitchen counter?” Not him. I guess he thinks it’s a gift from Above, if he thinks anything, which he probably don’t. He just re-wraps it.
That night he and Trinkette go to a romantic dinner at a Pizza Hut, and he presents her with his gift. Which she loves. Afterward, they cap off the evening with drinks at the Sloth Lounge, where I happen to be having drinks with my gentleman friend Lust. After a few, we all get to singing with the jukebox.
Somebody plays that song “WHO LET THE DOGS OUT, WOOF, WOOF WOOF…” And Trinkette shrieks and almost falls off the barstool. She yanks off her necklace and glares at it. “I got a electric shock!” she says.
Leech mumbles, “I’m sorry, Babe. I shoulda took out the battery.” Which was the absolute wrong thing to say. “Battery? BATTERY? Why? …Oh. My. Gawd. This is a DOG collar!”
She stomps out and takes an Uber home. There ain’t nothing Leech can do to make it up to her. Not the dozen long beads he caught himself; not the whole box of chocolate-covered cherries, not the flowers delivered from an actual florist. Poor Leech. His heart, such as it is, is broken.
He has a long history with Trinkette. Her father owns Big Bubba’s bar across town, and Trinkette and her sister, Chiclette, who is his brother Lurch’s girlfriend, are bartenders there. Lurch talks to Chiclette, about the situation and she says every time anybody says “Leech,” Trinkette spits.
Well, Leech mopes around and stares at the TV without seeing it and stays home from bowling and don’t bet the ponies and don’t even eat king cake, until finally Ms. Larda got to take charge.
She drives over to Big Bubba’s and has a heart-to-heart with Trinkette. She explains that Leech wasn’t trying to make fun of her with that dog collar — he actually thought it was a real necklace. Well, Trinkette does miss Leech. And she is getting tired of fending off the regulars at Bubba’s anyway. So next time he comes over, she accepts his second attempt at a Valentine gift — a black-and-gold Saints anklet that lights up at night and booms “WHO DAT.” Better than a dog collar, any day.
So, the two of them are back together again. And the collar, battery-free, now decorates the spare roll of toilet paper Ms. Larda keeps on the back of the toilet seat. It looks very nice there. I hope Earlyn don’t come over and have to pee.
