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Here's the scoop, friends... This is, as indicated, the 1st HALF of this fairly lengthy poem. The 2nd half had to be posted separately due to Poetry Soup's file-size limitations. No other way I could manage to make it happen... Thanks for reading, or listening, or both...whatever the case may be - Cheers, Mark The summer sun was blazing hot as down the road we flew. My wife and I were looking for a place where we could stop And wile away the afternoon by searching for antiques. Yes…we were trying hard to find an extra special shop. When Helen saw a rusty sign that read, “ANTIQUES & BAIT,” her frantic squeals were muffled when my foot would hit the floor, And power brakes would send her startled face into the dash, and she would wind up gurgling words I’d never heard before. Stunned by what had happened, I would throw the car in park. I grabbed a hold of Helen’s head, and turned her face to me, Then placed my hand before her eyes, with fingers spread out wide, and hollered, “I’ve got fingers up…how many do you see?” “Ninety-five,” she calmly said. I almost had a stroke. My heart was racing wildly as I felt the tension mount. Now…Helen never was the brightest star up in the sky, but…dumb as she could sometimes be...I knew that she could count. “Oh my God,” I cried out loud, and, once I’d parked the car, I leaned her back against the seat and said, “Don’t worry, dear. I’ll run in and call for help. You’re going to be OK. A little rest will do you good… now, you just stay right here.” But as I turned to lift the latch to open up my door, I caught the faintest sound of muffled giggling. What a scum! That stupid broad picked up her head and laughed herself to tears. She always finds some evil way for making me look dumb. “What if your pretending would have made me have a stroke? I snarled, then added, “You know what…I almost wish I had.” “Oh, give it up, you fool,” she snapped, “it’s me that could have died. This never would have happened if you didn’t drive so bad. “Now, shut your mouth and straighten up. At least we found a shop. I’m going to take some aspirin, and you’d better settle down. And if I have to tell you twice, you’ll wish you’d never lived. Now lose that stupid attitude...and ditch that ugly frown.” Now, Helen rarely lost her cool, but when that woman did, you’d best believe she truly meant exactly what she said. I knew I’d really ticked her off, and when I saw the dash, the dent she’d left reminded me…she could have wound up dead! After calming down a bit, we scurried through the entry. The door was flanked by windows showing items that were great. We thought we’d finally found a shop with truly special things, but by the time we’d actually learned the truth, it was too late. There, behind the counter, was a greasy little man, and as the door would slowly close, we stood there, unimpressed. We realized he’d placed the only things he had of value where drivers-by would spot them…then expect the very best. This is how they often lure the “antiques buyers” in. We very quickly saw his goods were not as we had hoped. Everything he had for sale was old pathetic trash…the same old junk with which we had so very often coped. Now, be sure to access the 2nd half to learn the ending to this frustrating story -
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