Man Up

The cold rain gently kissed the courtroom windows while my fate was debated by two highly educated, well-dressed attorneys. It was like a scene from a movie that I saw at the AMC theatre. Things weren’t looking good for me as I replayed the scenes over and over again in my head.

The day started out well. It was a clear, late November Sunday morning and there air was crisp. Rays of sunshine warmed my rejuvenated face. My wife and I had both gotten an hour-long facial at Studio Green. I guess that was my first mistake as a man to get a facial but hey, this was going to be a special day – a day filled with celebration and pampering. I even bought her a little something for me from Biatta Intimates. We proceeded to a Sunday brunch for 2 at the Two Twenty-Two Grill inside the Country Music Hall of Fame. I had a frittata – it was fluffy – she an omelet. That was my second mistake. I could feel the judging glances from manly country music legends of the likes of Johnny Cash, Elvis, and Little Jimmy Dickens. (Now that I think about it a stack of flapjacks would have been a better choice).

I must have had one too many mimosas because the next thing I knew she was parking our freshly detailed car outside the Grande Ole Opry House. I reached in my pocket and pulled out our matinee tickets to the Radio City Christmas Spectacular. That’s when the lack of manliness started to get to me.

“Doh!” I exclaimed as I smacked myself in the forehead. “Nothing in this day is manly!” I started making a ruckus in the parking lot. “…might as well get a mani-pedi at Mona Lisa’s or take our Cockapoo, Sparkles, for an afternoon of dog grooming!”

Visions of Rockettes kicking, the feeling of my smooth, stubble-less face, and ache of a stomach full of frittata and mimosas was too much for me to handle. An innocent onlooker tried to calm me down but I couldn’t take it anymore. In one quick movement I lashed out and instantly regretted my actions.

***

The verdict was read – GUILTY! Tears streamed down my cheeks as I knew I would never be able to take my kids to another Fall Festival at Owen Farm in Chapmansboro nor would my family and I be able to have one last 1-hour photography session.

Just then everyone clapped, took a bow, and the stage lights came on. It had all been a show! The Cry Murder! trial re-enactment had been so real my imagination took hold of it! Amazing!

And THAT’S the Real Dealio!

By TDubb

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