Copyright 2001 Julie Weathers All rights reserved
Warning Martha and Tilly are browsing through Victoria’s Secrets again.
Martha and Tilly stared at the notice on the bulletin board. The Old Gray Meres were fund raising again.
Martha peered at the list of suggestions and snorted. “I ain’t wearing those stupid Dutch costumes and making funnels cakes again. I’m tired of squeezing lemons for lemonade. If I have to paint one more face on one more spoiled kid I think I’ll start using permanent markers.”
“You did that last year, remember?”
Martha snickered. “Yep. Didn’t have anyone coming back complaining that their face paint didn’t last long enough though.”
They strolled into the meeting room and grabbed two chairs at the back table. Tilly pulled out her Victoria’s Secret catalogue and her magnifying glass so they could browse through the men’s section. After all, Christmas was just around the corner and it was time to shop for that special something.
Martha stared through her trifocals at the black leather thong her friend had just circled. She tried to imagine Tilly’s husband Bob in the skimpy underwear and regretted it immediately.
Martha stabbed her bony finger at the Greek god of a man in the boxers with a picture of Pinnochio on page 29.
“His nose is missing,” whispered Tilly.
“The man is supposed to supply the nose.”
Tilly stared at the picture for a moment and then giggled. “Ooooh, I get it,” she said and circled the number.
“Unfortunately,” Bernice whined, “we just received a response from the fair board about working the hospitality and lost child booth. They have permanently banned us so we will be working the Santa booth at the mall to raise money. I trust there is no way anyone can mess this up, but we have a contract guaranteeing payment anyway.”
Everyone in the room turned to stare at Martha and Tilly. “What?” Martha snapped. “The kid had a skinned knee. I told him it was a long way from his heart. Get over it.”
Bernice sniffed righteously. “I think their major objection was the terrible stories you told to the children during make-believe time. The kids couldn’t sleep for weeks. I understand two of them are still in counseling.
“I will be posting the shifts we’ll be working from now until Christmas. Santa’s helpers will be wearing green outfits. Green costumes. Green money. Think green.”
Gretta gasped and thunked to the floor when Martha and Tilly walked into the senior center meeting room.
“You two,” Bernice spat. “Your hair is still green.”
“You told us to think green,” Martha replied sweetly.
“I have never been so mortified in my entire life.”
“Did we get paid, Bernice?”
“Well, yes, but that isn’t the point. Where on earth did you two find those, those, those….”
“They’re called thongs,” Martha said as she calmly filed her fingernail.
Tilly held up her dog-eared copy of Victoria’s Secrets. “They have more of those cute little green elf outfits in here for only $39.99 if anyone else wants one.”
A still wobbly Gretta gawked at the catalogue in Tilly’s hand.
“Someone ought to watch Gretta. She’s looking a little green,” said Martha.