martini cocktail (Photo credit: stormgrass)
Rick Santorum’s mistress of two years, in her first interview, and over her fourth martini, says, “I lose my lady wood when Ricky starss praying on th’rare ‘ccasions when he gess ready to climb onto me.” The former porn star takes a long slow drink and daintily puts her glass down in that over-careful way that someone does when they are a little more than somewhat tipsy. It is 4:25 in the afternoon, and cigarette smoke-filled shafts of sunlight slowly move across the tables near the front window of her favorite haunt The Fine Fishy Kettle, a dimly lit saloon of dubious reputation in a slightly less than glamorous part of Washington D.C. She is precariously perched on a stool at her preferred spot at the far end of the bar.
Silence…
She picks up her glass, takes a sip and then; “We met on-line at Chrishian Mingle…I figgered he was a l’il kinky ‘cause he used the name Strickt…I foun’ ou’ later wha’ he meant was St. Rick – an’ the t was a typo!” The still somewhat perky woman in her late 40’s pauses to look around then; “Y’know – iss one thing to pray bfor an’ affer every meal, an’ three times on Sunday,” she takes another sip, “but sayn a prayer before you shtup?, An’ to pray tha’ll be good?” Her elbow slips off the bar. “’Scuse me – an’ tha’ll stay hard? It does sort of de-lube the ol’ hoohah a bit…‘kay – a lot.”
She takes another sip, maneuvers the glass down almost onto the coaster – only two inches off target – fumbles inside the flip-top box of a pack of Marlboros, extracts one, and, puffing on it mightily, tries to light it – without any lighter flame. She gestures to me to lean in closer, leans in herself, and lowers her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, “I haffa lie bout the pill…” and then: “Y’know I ner drank ‘til I met Ricky…”
She straightens back up and continues trying to light the cigarette…
More silence…
Then:
“An’ why does he have twear tha stupid swerr vest to bed whenevr? I knowss his traymark and all…buss so not hot!” She finally gets the lighter flame going and tries – without success – to maneuver the moving flame closer to the cigarette, gives up, sighs, then leans in over her glass, and for about ten seconds stares into it – as if in a trance. She finally picks it up, takes another sip and continues, her words becoming even more slurred, “And one affenoon I thought oooh – he’sh gonna go down on me – buh he wash just reachin’ ‘cross me to get to his goddamn fuggin’ bible. Sreally becomin’ a bore.
More silence. Then:
‘Nother aftnoon’ ‘fore he wen back to the snate he said oh God, I love you – I was sooo happy – ntil I realized he wasn’t talkin’ to me.”
Then, missing the ashtray by a good 3 inches, she stubs the unlit cigarette out on the bar.
She finishes her martini, fumbles for another Marlboro light, and raises her arm to order another drink – her fifth. As the bartender approaches; “He’s cute the bartenner huh?” she says winking at me…“Bartenner…did anyone ever tell you you’re a good bartenner bartennerer…huh? I’ll take anur martini, an’ les jus’ lose the vmouth hmmm.” She tries lighting this cigarette, “he’s gonna drive me nuts wall the prayin’ – wou you blieve he prays affer dinner too? Thass not a exgagge- exgara- exaggregatshun either. I am tryn t’ do it with a prayin’ mattress,” the slowly zig-zagging lighter flame still some 6 inches from the cigarette.
The bartender leans in, and says softly, “Ma’am, I don’t think you should have another – really. In fact, I think I should call you a cab because you’re in no condition to drive home.” She looks at him in that weaving unfocussed way that people do when they’ve had a wee bit too much, “bartenner, you are a gennaman an’ a cholera, an’ I than’ you for your cocern, an’ I kinely sept your kine offer.” She makes an unsuccessful attempt to stand – and plops back down and says, “Y’know, I’m tryin’ to keep it togerr, bu’ sometimes I wonner why I bother, an’ I wonner fRicky juss wanssa be pressdent juss so’s he can make it a law thaeverybody hassa cross themselves fore they cross the street…or somethin’ like tha.”
She turns and stares at me in that same weaving, unfocussed, inebriated way. Then, turning back: “Boy, I sure wish I hadda cgrette”
© tony powers and Barking in the Dark, 2012. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to tony powers and Barking in the Dark with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.
Barking In The Dark 
Genius, Tony. The EAST’s Tom Waits ? As Ry Cooder said, you need the do-reh-me. Never mind, here’s a great platform and when the primaries are over you could post up a “Greatest Posts” of the Primaries from your excellent collection. That would be fun. Also, ” you are a gennaman an’ a cholera…” brilliant !
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Posted by Single Malt Monkey | April 4, 2012, 7:28 amthanks again Al, i really appreciate your kind words. yeah, i like that line too – made me smile and say “yeah” when i wrote it. continue…
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Posted by barkinginthedark | April 4, 2012, 7:44 amThis is brilliant–with the exception of the part about the sweater vest (or swerr ves as it were). I’ll have you know that the ladies love my sweater vest. What they DON’T like is the “Santorum Special.”
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Posted by Smaktakula | April 4, 2012, 1:02 amThanks Smak, hmmm…the Santorum Special eh? one can only imagine. thanks for the witty comment – and the sub. i shall endeavor to amuse and inform. continue…
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Posted by barkinginthedark | April 4, 2012, 1:06 amSo glad you are bringing this to light, even if it is swirled in smoke and soaked in gin. You do a wonderful job of creating the drunken time warp. If I had to take a bayonet to it, I would imagine a conversation with him would be equally disjointed and chronological.
Red.
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Posted by Red | April 3, 2012, 5:21 pm…and painful to the head that contains the brain that contains the logical mind. thanks for the kind comment Red. continue…
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Posted by barkinginthedark | April 3, 2012, 9:09 pmI dont know how you do it, the southern trailer dialect and now the drunk…and with such accuracy ! You could work as a translator…I’m sure theres a market for it !
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Posted by MJ, Nonstepmom | April 2, 2012, 11:39 pmThanx Janet, it’s kind of you, and i appreciate the nod. i guess it’s my musical ear. continue…
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Posted by barkinginthedark | April 3, 2012, 12:34 amTony, another gem of a post. It wouldn’t surprise that Rick has so many skeletons in his closet, that he probably has a hard time keeping the door closed. go on…
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Posted by Don in Massachusetts | April 2, 2012, 10:19 pmDon, thanks for the comment. i dunno he’s kept that closet closed til now. so maybe it’s as empty as his head eh? continue…
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Posted by barkinginthedark | April 3, 2012, 12:35 amSo if it is an empty head, then he it must be all dry rot. go on…
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Posted by Don in Massachusetts | April 3, 2012, 12:50 amFirst, and apropos of nothing in your post.. you ARE the East Coast Tom Waits. Dammit sweetie wish you made another album.
Okay, onto your writing today:
Christian Mingle… still choking. The full reading of your Sun-rise interview required hospitalization.
Signed,
Some Idiot Home Nurse In Reno
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Posted by Rachael Black | April 2, 2012, 8:38 pmActaully take that back…. No ONE could but you could compose and wirtea tune such as Old Rght Ringer and Going into Space.
-Curtsy’s again towards you babe-
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Posted by Rachael Black | April 2, 2012, 8:41 pmRachael, thank you so much for your most witty and kind comments re this post, and my CD. i value highly these words coming from a razor sharp mind such as yours. as to another CD would love to but don’t have the $ and i don’t see any record labels standing in line to front me…of course, i haven’t sent any of them the CD…so that may be a good reason for this 🙂 continue…
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Posted by barkinginthedark | April 2, 2012, 9:29 pmHave to agree with Frugalista – why didn’t the reporter get his name? (not a typo)
Great piece, the drunk dialogue is dead-on!
Or so I’ve been told…
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Posted by El Guapo | April 2, 2012, 1:22 pmyeah, u guys both right…maybe shoulda been a transvestite…oh well. and i’m sure you prolly have a “nodding” aquaintance with drunk dialoge EG. thanks again and continue…
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Posted by barkinginthedark | April 2, 2012, 8:33 pmewww, I mean just ewwww. Are you certain it was a woman and not a talking dog? This could have been the reason for the inability to light the cig, no opposing thumbs.
Lovely one
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Posted by valentine logar | April 2, 2012, 1:13 pmthanks Val, i appreciate the “lovely one.” continue…
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Posted by barkinginthedark | April 2, 2012, 8:34 pmOh, just give her another Martini (sans the olive) and a non-filter smoke and call it a day..
This was hilarious!!!
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Posted by free penny press | April 2, 2012, 11:30 amthanks Lynne, yeah, that there olive takes up too much room. i appreciate the kind props. continue…
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Posted by barkinginthedark | April 2, 2012, 8:35 pmI can only do one martini. But I’d be okay with four interviews!
Oh Tony, I don’t know this woman but could this by any sway of the imagination be libellous? You’re so out there! I guess it only could be if it actually resembles her & the resemblances are so obvious it’s embarrassing. Hic!
Loved the ‘gennelman an a cholera’ – you’re a rage 🙂
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Posted by WordsFallFromMyEyes | April 2, 2012, 8:58 amfunny comment Noeleen, thanks for the kind words. continue…
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Posted by barkinginthedark | April 2, 2012, 8:37 pmOnce again, phenomenal. I don’t know how you do it, but you always do. Your stories always visually put me in the scene and I swear I can hear the low voices of the bar patrons, smell the booze, the cigarettes – I am actually in the scene with you and Ms. Santorum here.
And none of this would surprise me if it were true – even partly true. I’m willing to bet that Ricky has some very perverted secrets behind his bedroom door.
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Posted by She speaks.... | April 2, 2012, 6:13 amthank you sweetheart for this kind comment. the funny thing is you say “Ms. Santorum”…i originally had it as his wife Karen, but thought that was a bit too unkind, and that to my mind she was off limits. so i changed it to his “mistress of 2 years.” anyway, as always, i really appreciate your “Michelle stamp of approval”. continue…
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Posted by barkinginthedark | April 2, 2012, 7:12 amThe way things go with these overly zealous types, I bet you’re on the right track here, Tony. But when that shoe really drops, he’ll beg for forgiveness and all his followers will do just that. And I’ll be creeped out again.
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Posted by Sparks In Shadow | April 2, 2012, 5:56 am“And I’ll be creeped out again.” made me laugh Re. yeah, he’s got a closet full of demons this one. thanks for the comment. continue…
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Posted by barkinginthedark | April 2, 2012, 7:14 amYou have such an amazing sense of humour n wit.. what a fun story
although what she said about the Rick making a new law in the end ..thaeverybody hassa cross themselves fore they cross the street…yup much needed 😉
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Posted by Soma Mukherjee | April 2, 2012, 4:18 amSoma, maybe traffic IS that bad eh? thanks for the kind words and comment. continue…
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Posted by barkinginthedark | April 2, 2012, 4:46 amy’know F, our intrepid reporter just might have been fooled there…dim lights…hmmmm…thanks for the fun comment. continue…
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Posted by barkinginthedark | April 2, 2012, 3:26 amThanks man great website plus some great connett articles, keep up the actual greatI had been surfing search engines and I saw your site which is very interesting, keep it up! I simply added this blog site in order to my google readers, excellent things. I Cannot obtain sufficient!
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Posted by Ronald | July 17, 2013, 6:55 amYou know me- I hear the word in my head the way you write them. I love it!
But, wait a sec- I thought Rick’s mistress was in fact, wait for it- a guy. :0
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Posted by Frugalistablog | April 2, 2012, 3:10 am