Subj: One Fine Day (6)
Date: 4/25/00 3:15:59 AM Central Daylight Time
From: Kallie
The Year 1969
"What You See, Ain't Necessarily What You Get"
While Maggie opened the front door and greeted her date, Willie sized up the competition.
Fabio Fabreezi was a real piece of work, he decided. For all the miracles he was said to have performed on women's hair, it looked like his own could have used a miracle or two. Looking more like a protective shield than a head of hair, its coal black strands wrapped around his head like cotton candy, in a failed attempt to imitate Bobby Goldsboro's famous do. Willie figured the man must have gone through at least two cans of hair spray to achieve such a rock solid affect.
Like a serpent about to strike, Fabio stared intently at Maggie never leaving her eyes as he took her hand into his own well manicured one, and slowly brought it up to his lips. He gently kissed the back of her hand and said, "Buona sera, mio caro". Willie detested him already, Hey what is it with women and hand kissing anyway? He thought. Maggie was practically swooning over all that foreign mumbo jumbo. He just didn't get it.
Once they were at the car, Fabio made a little bow to Maggie as he opened the door for her. "Your chariot awaits my dear," He proclaimed. And what a snazzy looking chariot at that. It was a lovingly polished, fire engine red, '68 mustang convertible. Under its hood purred a 289 engine with automatic transmission. It came complete with a custom wood console, white top, which was down at the moment, and upholstery to match. Now Willie had even more to be jealous of.
As Fabio put on his big show of gallantry, Willie took the opportunity to pick the smarmy Italian stallion's pocket. This took real talent because the man's pants were skin tight. It was funny, but even though Willie had given up his life of crime, there were still times when his former job skills came in handy. He quickly extracted the wallet and hide it behind his back as Fabio got into the car.
Willie gently tossed the wallet down on the backseat and attempted with extreme difficulty to squeeze into the small space in the back. An average sized human being could never fit in there comfortably. He figured that surely this narrow space must have been designed with munchkins in mind.
Fabio checked his look in the mirror as he spoke, "So how do you like my little pony car?" Then without waiting for a reply he added, "I was going to get a Ferrari of course, but then I decided to do the patriotic thing and buy American."
Maggie was obviously impressed. Willie felt like he was going to be ill.
As they began to drive the wind drowned out whatever conversation that might have gone on in the front seat, so Willie took out the wallet and began to inspect Fabio's driver's license. Or was it really his? The picture on the license was definitely Fabio, although you had to look closely to tell. At the time the picture was taken afros were all the rage. But this style made Fabio look like a fuzzy black dandelion, with his tiny little face almost lost amongst all that frizzy hair.
"Well isn't this interesting?" Willie said under his breath. The name on the license was not Fabio Fabreezi, it was Ernie Horowitz.
The truth was that Fabio hadn't a much as a single drop of Italian blood in him. They had became a pseudo Italian family the day his father, Clarence Horowitz's mind snapped. He simply came home one day claiming to be Mario Fabreezi and declared that he and his family where italian blue bloods. In every other respect he functioned as would a normal man. He still was very good at his job. But about his imagined Italian heritage he was adamant. Everyone in the family was given a new Italian name and they all played along with the fantasy, after all it wasn't doing any harm.
It was during high school that the brother's learned that it was to their advantage to be Italian. All the girls found their phoney accents to be exciting and exotic. So when Old Clarence, or as he preferred, Mario, passed on the family kept up the charade. Including Fabio, alias Ernie Horowitz.
The name wasn't the only thing amiss. According to the license ole Ernie was about 55 years old. Willie studied him in the rear view mirror. He certainly looked well preserved. Willie thought that maybe he had a face lift or two. Upon further inspection he noticed a skin colored substance caked in the wrinkly lines of Fabio's crow's feet. Oh my god, Willie thought to himself, this guy is wearing make up!
But it was even worse than he suspected, for when he was looking over Fabio's shoulder he noticed a rather nasty orange stain around the man's collar. He had to fight to resist the urge to yell out, "Ring around the collar, ring around the collar!" Man even his tan was fake, Willie began to wonder what other surprise the old boy might have in store.
They pulled into an apartment complex and Maggie eyed Fabio suspiciously and asked why they were stopping there. "I thought we were going to eat out at a restaurant." She said with a slight bit of annoyance in her voice. Willie suspected that Maggie was about to enlighten Fabio of his huge faux pas, but the man didn't look a bit worried.
Confidently putting a slightly orange tinted hand around Maggie's shoulder, he explained, "Mio caro how could I take such a beautiful lady to dine in some mediocre local establishment, when Fabio's own little Ristorante has most primo spaghetti in the whole town!" Then pointing out the vanity mirror he had attached to the passenger side visor, he replied, "Besides perhaps you would like to fix your hair a little?"
Maggie looked in the mirror and turned red. Her hair looked like it had just gone through the spin cycle. She was now extremely grateful that they weren't going out in public with her wind blasted hair. Fabio, however, still had every strand of hair glued perfectly in place. His protective shield of hair spray had held, as he know it would. Maggie wasn't the first girl he'd lured to his apartment via a bad hair day.
Kallie >^,,^<