Pork Chops & Real Things

Clemens had stolen the Kodak of that weird guy. Those photos were a premium playboy subscription. Clemens drove her Honda Civic down the highway. Desert roads now. Grand Canyon type shit.

She parked out over cliff sides. Asked other tourists to take cheeky solo photos next to canyons. Jealous girlfriends getting mad. Boyfriends getting harder on every snapshot.

CLICK… Damn no more exposures. Clemens sighed and put the Kodak in her duffel bag. The sun was out and she was tanning slightly.

A man from a RV home approached her. He was old. Like maybe 65. He was alone with a spry black Labrador.

The lab came and licked her fingers, “Aren’t you a cutie…” she said.

“Her name is Brenda… She’s older than she looks…” the old man said, “I am Jeff… I am as old as I look… You are?”

“Am… Clemens…” she said.

Jeff was funny. Not a perv. He was just lonely. Him, his dog, and a great big RV.

RV = Recreational Vehicle. Basically a full ass home in a bus body.

Clemens went inside.

“Oh damn Jeff you have a full kitchen and everything… And recliners!” She sat down.

So comfy!

“Ah yes… My pearl of retirement helped me to acquire this beauty,” Jeff said.

Brenda sat in her dog bed and chewed on a ball.

“May I be as bold as to invite you to join me for a pork chop barbecue outside tonight?” He said.

“Now you are talking,” Clemens said.

They set up a small barbecue pit and roasted pork chops, sausages, and some burger patties. Good thing Clemens was hungry. She usually ate small meals of gummy bears and apple juice. Sometimes those cheap chocolate filled buns.

It was evening and they were the only ones on the cliffside. A night of stars and a crescent moon.

Meat. This was good.

“I’m glad you like it…” Jeff said. He sipped on a cold beer.

“Yummy!” Clemens said with a mouthful. She had already downed two beers.

“Where are your wheels taking you?” Jeff said.

“Well… To Hollywood… I want to become a pornstar…” She said.

Jeff’s eyes bugged out for a second, “Well of course… Hollywood is the best place for that…”

He didn’t ask anything more about that. He was already an old man. Seedy was not an adjective he wanted to add.

“Jeff, what did you do for work?” Clemens asked.

“I was a chemical engineer… Worked on fuels… Mainly for tractors…” he said.

That explained his richness.

“I see… Why come out here? Why not retire at the beach in Hawaii?” She said.

“Ah I’m not that type of man… I’m rustic… Brenda is a tough girl… Travelling the states feels real…” he said.

“I wish I could find something real,” Clemens said.

“You will. And when you do… Don’t let it go…” Jeff said.

Don’t let it go. Clemens felt that. She wanted what Jeff had. Something real.