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People's Republic

Beaucrazy, Part Two
- - - - - - - - - - - -
by Rob Sheely (buzz@boulderweekly.com)

Mandy was working on a skip trace for a guy named Puppy, Virgil R. His last known place of employment turned out to be an empty office in a building next to the Courthouse Annex. The next office down was a one-man graphics and web-design shop featuring a chunky guy with a ponytail. When Mandy asked if he knew where the people from the empty office had moved to, he said, "Yeah. But first let me see ’em."

"My breasts?" said Mandy, disbelieving.

"Your legs."

Somehow Mandy kept herself from killing him. Instead she rolled her chair forward until she quickly had him backed into a corner. He tried to swat her away, but she took one of his hands in a "come along" hold which froze him with sudden pain. "Rule number one for bullies," she said softly. "When you choose your prey, make sure she’s not a bitch on wheels with a chip on her shoulder. Now, I will ask you again, politely–where did the office next door move to?"

"I don’t know," he hissed through clenched teeth. She increased the pressure on his hand. "Honest. All I have is a phone number."

"Spill it."

He did. Mandy released his hand.

"One of the secretaries had a thing for me," he explained, rubbing his hand. "Spent hours in here talking about her loser fiancée. I knew it was only a matter of time before she dropped him for me. Then one Monday the whole office was empty. Later that afternoon she called and left a voicemail about how she could never see me again and she couldn’t tell me why. I star 69’d her and told her it was okay with me and what a drag and a bore it had been to listen to her."

Mandy just shook her head and headed back out of the dingy little office. "Bitch," she heard Mr. Pasty-skin mutter behind her. She spun her chair back toward him. He yelped and cringed so hard he fell out of his chair. Mandy was surprised–but not at all ashamed–at how much pleasure the sight brought her.

On the way back home, she took her mind off the sidewalk in front of her and took a spill over a protruding tree root. She was able to get herself back in the chair, but her green silk blouse got a couple of stains and one rip on the left sleeve. So of course when she reached the condo, who was waiting at the door for her but Joan, Randy’s beautiful ex?

"Hi," she said, politely not commenting on Mandy’s blouse. "I was hoping you’d come along soon."

"You need someone to watch the children?"

"No, but thanks for the offer." She smiled nervously at Mandy. "Actually I need some advice and, if you’re not too busy–"

"No. Come on in."

Joan followed Mandy in and took a seat on the couch. "It’s Randy," she said. Mandy’s chest tightened. The last thing she wanted was to offer this woman relationship advice about the man she, Mandy, had a secret crush on. "I mean, I owe him for helping me turn my life around and God knows the kids need a father around, but the only man in my life right now is my Hitachi Magic Wand." Mandy felt her whole body blush. Thank God Joan was too busy talking to notice. "The problem is I’m going nuts having him underfoot all the time. So I was wondering–with your work and all–do you think there’s any way you could–I mean, without making it obvious–let him come along and help you out?"

An hour later Mandy was driving the van with Randy in the passenger seat. "You sure you need my help?" he said. "I don’t really have any experience in law enforcement. Except for getting caught that one time, of course."

"All we have to do is find Mr. Puppy and give him his summons," said Mandy. "I ran the phone number through an online reverse directory and the address came up 1777 Broadway." Which turned out to be something called the Municipal Building. Mandy and Randy made their way inside.

"May I help you?" said a redhead in a tone altogether too warm and inviting for Mandy’s taste. Of course, the redhead wasn’t smiling at Mandy.

"We’re looking for Mr. Puppy," she said to the redhead who blanched, stammered a few words and ran off across the lobby, disappearing down a stairway. "You’re the one with the working legs," said Mandy. "After her!"

To be continued.

Respond: letters@boulderweekly.com




© 2003 Boulder Weekly. All Rights Reserved.