Holy Moly thought Smedley this must be what an attack of Deja Vu feels like. He was sure that he’d never been to the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa and yet every object in this setting was familiar; right down to that handsomely carved chunk of basalt. He was even sporting his bright Summer mating colors. “Hey there old rock”, he called out. “Where the heck am I?” Alas, the Face of Everyman remained mute, as he is wont to do. “S” flew South, never to return to that magical spot.
At the first class reunion of the graduates of the Montetorkie school many of the guys came in their old mating colors. the Face of Everyman noted, with a wry smile, that these were the same guys who were in the stag line at every sock hop. Many things are universal even at the magical Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa.
Not all was peaches & cream at the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. the Face of Everyman was forced to witness much marital discord. Yardley had sworn that he had been looking for work. Sybil had believed him until the Racing Form fell out of his pocket. What to do? She was already working two jobs. Maybe they could skimp by if she cancelled satellite TV.
Life for Zoe was a struggle. She was born into the Avian world where plumage said everything a prospect mate needed to know. The travel agency touted this weekend before Halloween at the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa would be a life changer. Complementary costumes and masks or optional face painting were meant to add mystery and romance to this holiday vacation package. On first sight, the Face of Everyman could sense her discomfort and suggested that she go down to the nearby village. He had heard good reports about Billie Jean’s Club; right across the street from The Bear Cave. The venerable sage remained confident of his skill in sizing up anxious guests.
In typical perverse action the Juke twins, Bobby and Betty fought over a dried up furcula left behind by rogue Crows who frequently swept through the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa preying on innocent wildlife. the Face of Everyman heard only the snap of the bone; not the wishes. He kept his thoughts to himself, recalling with relish his last Coquelet.
Heloise had enrolled in the Synchronized Swimming class at the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa. Apparently, when the colorful brochures were printed the folks at Corporate didn’t know that this resort had only a wading pool. Never the less the Face of Everyman would coach her thru the Fall semester; at which time she could transfer to the Olympic sized pool at Hilton Towers. Her Mom ran ads on Craig’s List seeking suitable swimming partners. “H” was focused on her Olympic dreams.
the Face of Everyman droned on and on about Constitutional safeguards, the role of the Supreme Court and voting rights. He knew that he had lost his audience when little Sparkie asked what voting meant. In preparation for his next boring talk the venerable sage “Googled” Congressional Districts. To his chagrin he discovered that the Foggy Bottoms Resort and Spa existed outside the boundaries of all reality.