The other day I was leaving a business in Dupont. Well, it was not really Dupont, but I am taking poetic license to say it was Dupont because I do not seem to write about Dupont very often. Maybe it is because not much goes on in Dupont. Or perhaps it is because a lot goes on in Dupont, but I never hear about what goes on in Dupont.
Poetic license is a synonym for lie, but my lies are always harmless. For 25 years, when I wrote police reports, I was not allowed to embellish, lie, or joke around. Opinions were not allowed either. Now that I am retired, it feels great to have my freedom of expression back.
My byline is Westside Story. The name Westside Story developed because my writing mainly focuses on the West Side. The West Side includes The Narrows Bridge, West Slope, University Place, Lakewood, Steilacoom, and Dupont, and let’s not forget Tillicum.
Back to my story. So, the other day I was extricating myself from a Dupont business when I spotted a comment box.
Undaunted by the fact that I did not have a pen to use on the little green comment cards the business provided, I decided to make my comments verbally. You know me. I had plenty to say.
Now it is your turn to comment.
Hilarious! I wonder when they really come up with a recording device. Wouldn’t that be a hoot?!
Did you put your quarter in before you started talking? Remember, you only get three minutes. Or did you call collect?
Punchline, please ? What did you say ???
Dieter
Joe,
When I was at the Las Vegas Trump Plaza hotel in the main nightclub, I was not aware you were doing your routine (and Jerry let me know he is still jealous) of comedy in the SlezhzhBar in the basement. We could have got together to rechew the good old days (Showalter)
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