You've Still Never Seen a Bear_Makeover_How I Met a Karen_Back Kitchen Doctor
Catalog Guide:
You've Still Never Seen a Bear
“There have been a lot of bear sightings in Valdez this summer,” Brother Gordon explains to your concerned mother, as he loads a rifle into the back of his Suburban. “I just want to be prepared.”You hug your mom goodbye and jump into the van, ignoring her requests for a kiss. The year is 2003, you’re 13, and you can’t wait for your second year of Mormon Girls Camp.“Don’t worry, Mom!” you call as you wave through the open window. “I’ve never even seen a bear!” Outside of a zoo, of course.You spend the five-hour drive to the camping destination singing deafeningly and incessantly along with the ...
Makeover
“I want to become a model.”“You want to become a model?”“Yes.”“Do you own a mirror?”“Yes…”“Have you ever used it?”A miffed look.“What? I’m being practical.”“I look great, George.”“Sure. If you say so.”A deep sigh.“Well, what should I do?”“Don’t look like you do. You won’t be able to get anywhere the way you look right now. You must understand, Kiran, that in this industry, hard work is not the key to success. Looks are. You need a makeover. Take your specs off.”“Maybe I should. I wouldn’t be able to see your malevolent face then.”“If you don’t want my help, why have you come to me?”“You’re sup...
How I Met a Karen
My cab pulled into what looked like an abandoned estate in Thamesmead. A modestly sized, rusting, mobile office trailer that needed painting was next to a noisy diesel generator leaking gas onto unkempt grass mixed with weeds. The cab driver raised her voice for me to understand her, “You are here!” Gary shouted, “This is it? This is the Reedsy Corporate office?” She nodded, then raised her hands to her shoulders with her palms faced upwards. Gary paused for a moment, glanced out the passenger side window at the rusting mobile office trailer, and commented, “But their website is so nice and mo...
Back Kitchen Doctor
A couple of burly men burst through the back door of the kitchen, dragging one of their own as he screams and clutches the bullet wound torn into his gut. My head snaps up to stare. The goons throw their bleeding buddy onto one of the stainless steel counters. One sees me, glares at me. Jabs a stubby, bejeweled finger at the air between us.“Don’t get curious!www.onedoor.cc” he barks at me. It’s good advice when you work for a mafia front.I return to my food prep, slicing through a defrosted chicken breast before throwing a few strips of jiggly meat onto the scale. Pink liquid pools around it. Five-point-eig...