Kelly In Catty

This blog is Kell's attempt to keep in touch with friends far away who complain that I don't e-mail nearly enough.

Friday, September 08, 2006

Fully Loaded

I recently had lunch with a former co-worker of mine. We worked at a television station together - and had a lot to catch up on. For example, he told me he purchased a replica Volkswagon Beetle Herbie the Lovebug. He takes it to charity events, and was recently invited to the premiere of "Herbie Fully Loaded," along with all the other replica Herbies across the nation.

I asked, "Um, Bob - after the event, I assume you walk into the parking lot into a sea of Herbies. How do you know which one is yours?"

Bob: "Well, on MY Herbie, the interior is wrong..."

Oh how I miss Bob.

My favorite Bob story happened about 11 years ago. Bob agreed to go with me to pick up a manequin a that a local department store was willing to sell. I wanted to use it on a show set. Before we left, I grabbed a football jersey (so I wouldn't be driving through the streets of Allentown with a naked manequin in the back seat of my recently purchased car. It just didn't seem like a good idea). "Kelly," chided Bob. "You don't need that silly shirt. We'll be fine."

I stuffed the shirt into a bag anyway. I'm no dummy.

We parked in the department store's deck, and went to retrieve the manequin. There she was, in a seated position, with her head propped on her hand. She was as bald and naked as the day she was manufactured. I pulled the shirt out of my bag as Bob picked up the manequin.

You must, at this moment, imagine the scene: Picture a seated manequin in the arms of a live man. Bob looked as though he was about to carry his plaster bride across the threshold. It was more than a little unsettling, yet hysterically funny at the same time. "Bob, please let me put the shirt on her."

"Don't be ridiculous, Kelly! I'll put the manequin in the car... You get the parking ticket validated, and we'll go to lunch!"

"Oooooookaaaaay..." I watched as Bob carred Nudie Trudie to the elevator.

Moments later, I validated the parking ticket, and rode a crowded elevator to level four of the parking deck.

The door opened.

There stood Bob... Manequin in arms.

Time stopped. The people in the elevator froze. This cleary was not what they were expecting to see in a parking deck.

Bob looked sheepish: "Kelly, I couldn't find your new car!"

I bit my lip, but it did no good. I burst into hysterics - which of course, freed the rest of the elevator riders to do likewise. My eyes were watering, my stomach ached, and yet the sight of that man carrying that naked manequin kept me laughing all the way to the car.

"Do you mind if I put the jersey on her now?"

"By all means, Kelly... By all means."

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  • At 7:29 AM, Blogger Trixie said…

    In GA it is against the law to change a mannequin without first pulling down the window shades! Once my mom (in FL) changed one in a store window and got lots of honks and cheers. It was the Rainbow Parade day in the early 1990s and they saw this woman looking like she was ... well you another woman! One of my mom's proudest moments :)


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