Have Jersey, Will Travel

FESCH.TV INFORMIERT:

You know what, even though Apollo’s still working his way through Figaro’s opening monologue and only just got as far as the line “Fortunately I don’t care any more,” with no time left to finish “and her betrayal doesn’t affect me in the least. I’ve got them at last!” before the agreed-upon hour I told him he could tap out to go chase blue jays and orioles (exclusively on AppleTV *shudder*, whatever that means….), maybe I should surreptitiously return Erik’s keycard and head south, let this whole “disgruntled” thing go and see if I can’t find a little love by the sea to soothe what ails me before we finish with the inscription another time.

And why not? If all it takes is a few binges to, ahem, unintentionally orchestrate a simulacrum of an entire phoney faction within HGTV’s laughably diminutive staff with enough might and menace to frighten Erik and Leslie and incite Caspor into chiding me for letting a badger get carried away with the rhetoric I apparently employed him to compose for the ruse when I was gakked, then why shouldn’t I, an errant Fool who has learned from this incident never to outsource under the influence, expect to find my fair Dulcinea whither Rosinante carries me, now that I’m relatively sober and no one in New London can stop me?

The only stumbling block is Rosinante’s habit of stumbling. I can’t figure out exactly what it was that briefly brought us to our knees on the way out of Oromocto; Carlos could only shrug and point helplessly at her torque converter while giving less than subtle hints that he didn’t care to find out whether or not fool-errantry made for viable enough a trade to cover the cost of his services; and Milla was ready to see if Tillsonburg would foot the bill to take good care of her, but when we took a look at a scanner hooked into her horseshoe on a trot around the block in Rexdale, it shrugged too, and leaving her overnight to ferry Milla home and back again the next morning without saying anything about the A/C only yielded a minor miracle when I was shocked to find Rosinante bathing him with a refreshing breeze I’d never known her to be capable of, but no further insights into her condition.

Never mind any crap I might have insinuated in the winter concerning your reliability in a pinch and may I never be as grumpy as I’m beginning to worry I’ve been this year ever again! Boy, do I ever regret my pessimism in retrospect and now see before us a golden opportunity for repentance. I’ve already seen how calm I remain when Rosie decides she’s had enough, and as far as I can tell I have no reason to believe she’ll complain if I proceed at a modest pace, so if I don’t arrive as agreed and can’t send word via Erik or Deputy Telldatrüf of my whereabouts as a result, I may need to be rescued, as so many erotic tales have begun before! While I would say the prospect of suddenly needing to figure out what to do with a steed who won’t comply in the middle of nowhere is as comforting as the presence of an instructor standing nearby with a clipboard telling one to fall backwards into the arms of someone who assures them they won’t let them fall, who can complain about getting stuck in the Adirondacks in the fall, amirite?