2014

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Night on the Couch

I’m not all that sure where the farm was; I was doing the Good Samaritan thing and dropping off a couple of farm kids on my way from Brooks to Drumheller, so I guess it’s along that road. While we were driving the sky opened up and visibility dropped to just shy of zero. Greta and Marlene, the two kids, offered to let me stay the night at the farmhouse, where I could sleep on the couch in the living room. That was the first warning sign I missed.

It was another hour of driving on something as much river as road to get to the place; the lights were all off. Greta explained that mama, papa and Gunther were down in Lethbridge and probably wouldn’t chance driving home in this weather. Which meant we we’d be all alone for the night. That was the second sign.

Marlene lit a lantern, explaining as she did that the house didn’t have electricity, and that they were in a cellular dead zone. That’s why the girls had hitched a ride down to Brooks for the show; with no power, no TV, and no phone, there wasn’t much for two 18-year olds to do. The alarms were going full blare by then, but I wasn’t listening.

If this sounds like a raunchy story to you, well it did to me too. But the girls just wanted me to sing for them. I went through my entire repertoire, then faked it for a few country classics, and they just ate it up. It was after eleven when Marlene started tousling my hair and Greta stripped down. Before I knew what was happening, Greta was all over me and Marlene was getting warmed up. Aside from the lack of sleep, this night was looking pretty good from my point of view.

About two o’clock the clouds finally broke up and the pale moonlight shone in the window. I was pretty tuckered and the girls were cuddled up to me, and then it happened. Greta stretched and grew a tail. Marlene started getting all hairy and developed a wolf-snout.

Now I’m more open-minded than most, but there’s something about being torn apart by werewolves that just doesn’t sit right with me. I started to jump up, but Greta grabbed something in her teeth that I didn’t really want bit off. So instead I stayed there.

Turns out they just wanted to play some more, and by morning when the moon went down and they turned back I was still alive, though plenty scratched up. The girls apologized and tended my wounds; they even made breakfast and give me a snack for the road. It was a pretty scary night, but I guess all’s well that ends well.

Now, the reason I told you all this is I’m gonna have to cancel my gigs on the 17th and 18th: those are the two nights of the full moon this month, right? Fraid I won’t really be myself.