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    Tucker the Trucker: A Collection of Short Stories and Essays
    Tucker the Trucker: A Collection of Short Stories and Essays
    Tucker the Trucker: A Collection of Short Stories and Essays
    Ebook98 pages1 hour

    Tucker the Trucker: A Collection of Short Stories and Essays

    By La Verne Morgan Roxby

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    About this ebook

    Tucker the Trucker is a collection of mostly humorous short stories and essays. Many of LaVerne's writings begin with at least a bit of truth, such as an experience in her life, and then go from there - sometimes into fantasyland. She has always liked to take a small truth and turn it into something very different. She tries to find humor in every situation, and especially in her own life. When that doesn't work, she writes serious stories and essays, but her imagination is still very much involved. LaVerne always sees the glass as half full and that attitude keeps her happy and sane - for the most part. You be the judge.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherAuthorHouse
    Release dateOct 7, 2011
    ISBN9781467026888
    Tucker the Trucker: A Collection of Short Stories and Essays
    Author

    La Verne Morgan Roxby

    LaVerne Morgan Roxby is the company Proposal Manager for a defense contractor in Huntsville, AL. She has written fiction and non-fiction short stories and articles for many years. She has an MA and a BA in English and an AA in Journalism. She has taught English courses at the University of Alabama, Huntsville campus, as an adjunct. LaVerne was born and spent many of her early years in Florida. She has been an Alabama resident for over 25 years. She is a proud mother of two and grandmother of five.

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      Book preview

      Tucker the Trucker - La Verne Morgan Roxby

      Contents

      Naughty, Naughty!

      Pillow Tag Terror

      You’ve Been Missed

      My After Christmas Newsletter

      Bar Stools And Why I Avoid Them

      Josh Randolph – The Man With The Plan

      Bimbo Betty

      K-Cup Etiquette

      My Hairdresser’s Promise

      Tucker The Trucker

      On Being A Hippie

      Misery

      Neighborhood Watch

      Spoiled Rotten American

      Pajama Jean Joy

      When Our Eyes Met

      Bingo Madness

      Marvalene Goes Rogue

      Inconsiderate People

      Dummy Me

      Conversation With Aunt Freda

      Southern Livin’

      Cosmetic Craziness

      Family Bonding

      The Year Of The Gargoyle

      Perfect Gift For The One You Dislike Immensely

      Online Dating

      On Getting Older

      Truth In Advertising And Why We Need It

      Baby, Oh, Baby!

      Mario And Jessica

      Mall Shopping

      Indecent Exposure

      Cleaning Out Closets

      Housewife Happiness

      Oh, No!!!

      Giving Up

      Bimbo In My Spot

      Busy, Busy Marilyn

      Working Mom

      I Choose Happy

      Big Money

      Career Fast Track

      So There!!

      About the Author

      Dedicated To

      My Supportive Husband, Tom Stolinski

      My Two Awesome Children

      Donald

      Brandy

      My Five Special Grandchildren

      Samuel

      Reilly

      Brandon

      Anastasia

      Amelia

      Naughty, Naughty!

      She left the imprint of both her butt cheeks on the carefully rolled-out dough. White flour covered her backside … she had been SO naughty! And it had felt so good!

      The morning had started out innocently enough – Francine arrived at the bakery promptly at 5:00 am and started her morning ritual in the small kitchen – mixing up and rolling out dough to bake various pastries. She had only been working about 15 minutes when tall, thin, handsome Eduardo came in. He was the owner of the small, but classy, bakery in Rome and his pastries were revered throughout the city.

      He slowly came up behind her and then reached around her as he put his hands over hers on the ends of the rolling pin. He then swayed forward and backward for several minutes while the two of them rolled out dough for perfect tarts. Francine leaned her head back and rested it on his shoulder …

      Soon, the seemingly innocent rolling of the pastry dough intensified and the act became sexual … Eduardo quickly turned Francine around and pushed her gently down on the table as he lifted her skirt and pulled her panties down. For the next few minutes, the kitchen came alive as flour flew everywhere and the two of them struggled to muffle their sounds of pleasure.

      Two hours later, when the bakery was back to normal, and numerous fresh-baked pastries lined the shelves, a courier from the Vatican entered. He was there to pick up the daily order and to tell them that the pope had sent his blessing. Francine and Eduardo thanked him but said they had been blessed plenty already, at least for that day.

      Pillow Tag Terror

      Right after I learned to read, when I was about 6 years old, I started reading everything I could find around my house. One evening, just after I had gone to bed, I noticed a long, white tag on my pillow and I got very scared when I read what was written on it: Do Not Remove Under Penalty of Law. I was terrified and I wondered how the police knew when tags were removed – did they periodically go door-to-door and check? I didn’t remember the police ever coming to my house so I relaxed a little bit but, then, I had this thought: what about the OTHER pillows in my house? Did they all have tags? I quickly checked my sister’s pillow because we shared a bedroom. I was very happy to discover that her tag was still on her pillow. I then fell into a restless sleep and tossed and turned the whole night. First thing the next morning, I checked all the rest of the pillows; even the ones on the living room couch. The good news was: we had NOT broken the law – the tags were there!!

      After that, I made it my mission to constantly check the pillows. I didn’t mention what I was doing to my sister and two brothers because I knew they would probably tear the tags off just to scare me, AND report me so someone, anyone, would finally come get me and take me away. It didn’t occur to me to ask my parents about it; I assumed they knew about the law and they were following it because they were good citizens.

      I soon started checking tags when I went to visit friends and relatives. One day, I was at one of my older cousin’s houses when I saw that a tag WAS missing. I told my cousin that his family would soon be arrested and go to jail. He told me I was a crazy little –—. I then called him an even nastier name and then my aunt sent me home. I kept waiting to hear that the whole family had been taken away in a patrol car, but it never happened. Damn.

      Every night, since that first night when I was 6 years old, I have checked every pillow in my house to make sure the tags are still in place. BUT, that all changed today when I bought a new pillow. Before even looking at the price, I checked to see that the tag was there. It was, but it said something very different: This Tag Not To Be Removed Except By The Consumer. WOW – talk about a weight being lifted off my shoulders - I felt a new kind of calm come over me; it felt wonderful. I ran home, grabbed my scissors and started snipping. Tags started flying and I felt the mental constraints also falling away.

      It is amazing the difference a few snips with a pair of scissors can make. Life is too short to be held hostage by a pillow tag, don’t you think?

      You’ve Been Missed

      Hello – it’s nice to see you again. You’ve been missed.

      Thanks.

      I’m glad you’re back.

      It’s nice to be back.

      Why did you leave so abruptly like you did?

      You stopped giving me what I needed – what I wanted.

      Why didn’t you talk to me about it?

      I did – but you never listened. I became drained physically and emotionally.

      So you gave up on me?

      Yes – I did. I went elsewhere to get my needs fulfilled.

      I see – I think I understand, but it hurts. Why did you decide to come back now?

      "I saw the truck

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