Jeannie Weenie’s Relaxacizor Episode
By Constance Cassinelli, Inland Empire Branch
(In memory of my dear, Irish-alcoholic, poet-friend who passed away recently at the age of ninety-four. She loved reading about herself in several of these colorful episodes.)
Jeannie Weenie rediscovered her old Relaxacizor while clearing out her garage. It was a passive, exercise tool with electrodes that were questionably designed to diminish fat once attached to various parts of the body. While it hadn’t worked for her, perhaps it would benefit someone else, she thought.
Opportunity arose while pumping gas at the Standard Oil Station down the hill from her Mulholland Drive home. When she overheard the short Mexican mechanic complain about his fat wife, she suggested he might be interested in her Relaxacizor for his woman. He agreed to stop by after work.
Her fellow teachers, a black couple, had been invited to dinner but when they arrived, they found their hostess so tanked they decided it would be best if they prepared the meal. Jeannie crawled off to bed.
The doorbell rang. The couple was surprised the little man had arrived in his work clothes but graciously invited him to enter. He thought they were the cook and the butler. They thought he was Jeannie’s date, especially when he asked about the Relaxacizor. They directed him to her bedroom, reconsidered their dinner situation, and quickly left to give the “couple” privacy.
When the man climbed into her bed she shrieked, ran buck naked to the bathroom, and locked the door. Unfortunately, it was laundry day and only one small hand towel remained to cover her large body
She escaped by gradually squirming out the narrow bathroom window that faced the street. Her frantic call and her delicate usage of that small hand towel to cover her nakedness caught the attention of her next door, bachelor-neighbor. “Help me, help me, there is a strange man in my bed,” she called out as she staggered to the cover of his entryway.“
Jeannie, what now?” he laughed. “Okay, I’ll help, but this rescue is beginning to sound like National Enquirer fodder.”
“No, no, no, I need h-e-l-p.” She slurred.
Of course the good neighbor came to her aid by first giving her a larger towel before he carefully assisted her walk back to her front door.
Both were greeted by the very anxious little Mexican man who was also pleading for urgent attention. “Help me, help me, I just want my jacket.”
Jeannie was really confused about certain details in his story. True, she was tanked but she wondered, was this poor victim just looking for his jacket earlier when he climbed between my sheets? And why would he leave his jacket there? And what about the Relaxacizor? Was he still interested?
No doubt, her inquiring mind wanted to know.
This story originally appeared in
Fresh Ink, the Inland Empire Branch newsletter,
March 2020 edition.