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RUB50-11
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1995-10-27
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2KB
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50 lines
Copyright 1995(c)
'CAUSE HE'S GOT VIRTUALITY...
It's tough having an acquaintance like Ruby D. Begonia. I was
enjoying a quiet Saturday afternoon pounding at the keyboard when
I felt familiar hot breath on my neck.
"Hey, Mikie--whatcha doin'?" she asked, in an equally
familiar, sugary drawl. "Why'ncha call my bud with the jacket in
here?"
I sighed. "I'm tired, Ruby. As much as I'd like a vacation,
I have too much stuff to do right at the moment."
"What's your vacation gotta do with it? Just whistle up
whatisname." She settled back with a nail file for a little
touch-up.
"It doesn't work that way, Ruby. Unlike you and Del, he is
me, and I am he, and we are all...uh, nevermind. Bottom line is,
when I'm here, he's not."
"So you're tellin' me that you and him is like that Clark Kent
and the guy in the tights? Ah think y'all have been workin' too
hard."
I pushed myself back from the desk and stood. "Take a look,
Ruby. What do you see?"
"Welllll..." she began, but I interrupted before she got
started.
"Let me tell you. Thirty-seven, just under six feet tall,
about twenty pounds too much pasta and ice cream. Sandy hair--no
bald spot yet, but my hairline is starting to get a little
altitude. Crow's feet, laugh lines, and a permanent indentation
between my eyes."
Ruby was tapping her fingernails on my blotter. "Cut to the
chase, bub."
"Okay, okay. The chase: the Man in the Grey Leather Jacket
*is* my vacation. He's a little over six feet tall, doesn't care
much for pasta or ice cream, and has a full head of sun-bleached
blond hair. In the privacy of my own mind, I put on that grey
leather jacket and become the better part of myself. The jacket
doesn't walk around by itself, you see--it has to have me in it.
"The Man in the Grey Leather Jacket remembers all the things
I've forgotten, does all the things well I don't. He also has no
responsibilities, no rent to pay, no wife, and no dog. He's a
figment of my imagination, Ruby."
"So whatcher sayin' is that he's virtuous, jes' like me.
Whatcher point?"
I spun her out of my chair, and reseated myself. "Point is
this, Ruby. You virtuous, uh, virtual types are really easy to deal
with. All I have to do is flip this big, red switch..."
-end-