Sit back and relax? Are you frigging kidding!

Amy Baker
I’m not quite sure when it happened or why
for that matter. I know I never requested one. Who in their right mind would
consciously request one? But I am thinking that at some juncture a buzzer was
surgically implanted in my ass.

Why do I surmise such a procedure has taken
place without my consent or knowledge? 
Because every time I sit down someone or something needs my immediate
They don’t require my assistance while I am standing. No. It is
always as soon as my butt hits a cushion.

At one point, I thought perhaps there were
cameras strategically placed in the room where I had dared chosen to take a
break from working, cooking, cleaning or laundry. But since the dogs have
gotten in on the fun and they don’t know how to work cameras I’m thinking the
buzzer makes the most sense. It must emit a high-pitched sound that stirs the
animals in the house and gets them in on the action.

For example . . . just the other night I’d
had a long day filled to the brim with work, dinner, laundry and kids. I’d
tidied up and did a walk about the house to ensure myself of an uninterrupted
moment of sheer mindless television viewing. 
I made it to the family room hoping to indulge in one of the few small
pleasures that I allow myself once a week.

Already well accustomed to the buzzer
sounding as soon as my cotton-covered cheeks met chenille covered couch
cushion, I remembered to grab BOTH cell and house phones.

I shimmied between the coffee table and
loveseat began to lower myself just as Gordon Ramsay tore
into one of his restaurant contestants. The promise of my bottom hitting the
couch loomed and I sighed knowing that there was little that could foil
my plans.
I had been thorough; leaving nothing to chance.

I fell toward the cushion anticipating the
feel of the smooth soothing fabric engulfing me. And then I landed.

Touch down.

That was when my Rottweiler peeled herself from her club chair and hurled all over the carpet.

Since I had barely hit the cushion I was
able to rebound off the springs and back to standing. I walked over to my girl
and patted her on the head, “Are you okay, Baby?” Of course she didn’t answer
(I’m not so deluded that I actually thought that she would answer, just crazy
enough to conceive the buzzer theory).

I went to get paper towels but found the
roll empty. I reached for a new pack and tore into the hermetically sealed plastic that encased them. God forbid something should infiltrate a roll of paper towels!

Figuring some bizarre occurrence would
happen on my way back to the vomit, I took two rolls back just in case. I
grabbed some spray from the utility closet and went to clean the mess. 
As soon as I was done cleaning and
scrubbing the carpet, I washed my hands at the sink and made my way back to the
family room. 
Then I collapsed into the cushion for the
second time, essentially setting off my ass buzzer: the phone started ringing.

I looked around the room before remembering
I’d taken them with me to collect the paper towels. Without swearing (yeah, right!) I heaved
myself up and retraced my steps towards them. Of course, the phone stopped
ringing the moment I found it. I checked the caller ID.

I called my mother back and the phone rang
and rang and rang. Where the heck was she? How far could she have gone? Just
before the voicemail kicked in my mother answered the phone breathlessly. I
asked if everything was okay because she sounded like she’d just climbed Mt
Everest in record time. She told me not to be such a smartass that she was
running around the house looking for her phone because she forgot where she had
left it and she had just sat down to watch some TV.

Hmm. Maybe it was a two for one deal.
The Dream Weaver

Anda, like a lot of people, detests her job. She’s
been trying to get fired for as long as she could remember and goes out of her
way to blow off every assignment that she is given. But when one of her
“missions” ends badly, well more badly than usual, her boss who
happens to be her mother “drops” her into the fray hoping she will
learn her lesson. But the only lesson she is about to learn is how fast she can
fall for a smokin’ sexy aviation engineer.

Sam Miller is the oldest Miller brother. He is
successful, handsome and wants for very little having reached many of his goals
by the ripe old age of 25. But when he sets his gaze on Anda, his brother’s new counselor he can’t believe his eyes. For the first time in his life Sam is fearful that he might not get what he
wants. He’s also a 
Dream Weaver? Something he doesn’t like to mention.
The Dream Weaver is an original, funny and meant for a mature reader. The language is a bit salty too. You’ll laugh, whimper (not cry) and fan yourself all at the same time! Don’t pass it up.

Amy Baker is the author of Finding Catalina, The Dream Weaver and her most recent creation, The Beginning of January. 

Born and raised in NJ, she has always lived close enough to experience all that NYC has to offer (and then some.) She graduated from Villanova University and started her career in an advertising agency writing and creating sales material for TV/Movies (fun!) She tried her hand in the financial district for a few years (wonderful people but it didn’t satisfy the creative side of her brain.) 

Worked in a design center for about a year (fun in a different way and great people.) Became a mom (the most fun and very creative. Kids are awesome.) Now she has come full circle. She works as a freelance consultant and at night when the house is quiet has time to put all of life’s craziness into stories writing fiction books (super fun!). She is married to her best friend, has two wonderful kids, and two big dogs.
sat in the uncomfortable metal chair with her head cocked to one side. Tiffany,
the Lord and Taylor sales professional, was wearing a bright blue top with a
boat neck and no sleeves. It draped beautifully. Her tapered pants flared at
the bottom and were a very nice shade of gray. Anda had come to appreciate
clothes on Earth, everything on FairLorn, though it shimmered, lacked any color
at all. Still, Anda was having a difficult time appreciating Tiffany’s outfit
or how she would come to acquire it because she was simultaneously trying to
block out Tiffany’s whiney voice at the same time. “That’s her.” She droned.
“When I returned to the dressing room she was gone with all of the clothes. I
didn’t think much of it. I figured she changed her mind. But then we heard the
security system alerting us that someone was passing the exterior doors with
merchandise. So I called Vinnie in security and he reviewed the surveillance
video and we could see her on camera walking out wearing the clothes she had
tried on in the dressing room and she was carrying a few other things. She
didn’t pay for them, by the way. She was shoplifting. I would know, I was supposed
to get the commission.” Her head turned to Anda. “Bitch.” She stated loudly.
Anda heard little of what Tiffany said. She was more amazed by the salesgirl’s
ability to yell and whine at the same time.

security office that was situated in the bowels of the huge department store
was kind of dreary. The walls were all cinderblock and painted the most awful
shade of blue. All Anda could think about was poor Vinnie. He was stuck down
here all the time. The police officer that had entered the room a few moments
before had his head down and was taking Tiffany’s statement. He finally turned
to look at Anda, the shoplifter. He froze. No breathing. No blinking. Anda
tipped the corners of her lips up in an apologetic smile. Then she saw and
heard the officer swallow slowly. “Is, ehem, is this true, Ms…Ms…what did you
say your name was?” His head was cocked to the side in the same direction as

And I didn’t intentionally take the clothes. I didn’t realize I was supposed to
hand over the green paper before I left. That’s all. I have the green paper
with me now.” Anda shifted in her seat and took a strand of her hair in her
fingers and started to twirl. “You believe me don’t you?” She raised her
eyebrows as the police officer’s jaw fell open about an inch. She thought she
heard him say ‘holy shit’ under his breath, it would make sense- she got that a
lot, but she couldn’t be sure. “Hmm?”

police officer didn’t answer her but asked Vinnie instead if she had any
previous offenses to which Vinnie closed his mouth, tore his eyes from Anda and
shook his head slowly in the officers direction. Then his mouth fell open

sorry…” the officer was shaking his head in disbelief while Tiffany got excited
that he was about to drop the hammer. There was no way that anyone would
believe that bullshit. “…is that your real eye color?” He bizarrely queried.

was pretty sure she saw Tiffany’s hair expand and contract when her head
exploded. “Are you kidding me? What the hell is wrong with you people? Haul her
ass off to a cell for the night. That would teach her a lesson. 
Shoplifting is
illegal and I want my commission, bitch.” Tiffany asserted.
it was again. Shoplifting. Apparently acquiring new clothes without the green
paper was called shoplifting.

officer scolded Tiffany on her foul language warning her that if she couldn’t
calm down he would have to charge her with a disorderly. He then asked how much
the clothes Anda ‘mistakenly’ walked out with cost. Tiffany whipped out a piece
of paper that she had prepared in her hopes of railroading Anda and responded
$216.99. Anda took her hundreds out of her pocket and handed Tiffany the money.
Tiffany ripped the money out of Anda’s hand and turned to walk out of the
office murmuring “Green paper, my ass.”

still hadn’t blinked in the forty minutes that he stared at Anda. Maybe he was
from another world too. “Can I go now?” She asked both men.
officer turned to Vinnie and asked if they were planning on pressing charges.
Vinnie finally blinked and responded verbally. “Nah.”

smiled at the short, portly, balding Vinnie.

are free to go. And here, take my card in case you need anything.” The police
officer held out his hand holding a card with his name and contact information.

you,” Anda looked on the card, “Officer Davis.” She nodded.

me. If you need anything, anything at all.” He put his thumbs in the waistline
of his pants and let the rest of his fingers hang. Anda just nodded quickly and
excused herself from the office.

3 thoughts on “Sit back and relax? Are you frigging kidding!

  1. My buzzer is usually activated when I get a story idea – unless I have absolutely no way of writing the idea, then it'll switch off and allow me time to not write it.


  2. This is funny!!!! I have a buzzer in my rear end also!!! Mine tend to gos off when I'm in the bath or Im sitting down to eat.

    Love rotties. I used to have one but had to have him put to sleep when he goot hit by a car.


  3. I found your great blog through the WLC Blog Follows on the World Literary Cafe! Great to connect! I'm following on Networked Blogs. my blog is


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