Date night

Bright red hair, alabaster skin, ruby red lipstick, magenta sun dress, silver pumps – Lucy was a whirlwind of style as she made her way into the upscale Ultron Café. She wanted to look good, of course, but she also needed to make sure her date recognized her.

It was her first dip into a new online dating service, and although Richard had seen photos on her profile, she specifically told him to look for the “carrot top rocking hot colors.”

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For her part, she’d be keeping an eye out for a thin, dark-skinned man with a buzz cut, baby blue shirt and khaki pants.

The minute he walked through the door she recognized him and gave him a wave.

“Hi, Richard,” she said as he moved in for a hug. “So nice to finally meet you in the flesh. I hope you don’t mind … I’ve already got a table for us.”

The couple sat down and Richard ordered a bottle of red wine as soon as the waiter appeared.

“Wow,” Richard said. “You look even prettier in person, but I had no doubt you would. I’m so glad we’re finally making this happen.”

Lucy smiled and adjusted her bangs.

“Me, too,” she said. “It’s funny … I’ve tried so many of those other services but, as you might imagine, I wasn’t going to find the right fit. I mean, I couldn’t exactly be honest with any potential suitors.”

Richard laughed.

“No, honesty is definitely not the best policy with those others, is it?” he said. “But I was able to use them to my advantage, if you know what I mean.”

She did indeed, and felt relaxed enough to open up. Before she could, however, the waiter returned with a bottle of Pinot Noir and asked if they’d like an appetizer.

“I’m ready to order if you are,” Lucy said to Richard.

Both settled on the filet with baked potato and salad, and waited until the waiter was out of ear shot before resuming their conversation.

“OK,” she said. “Tell me about your first.”

Richard cleared his throat.

“Geez, you don’t waste any time, do you?” he said. “I like that in a woman. Well, it was at a rest stop off of I-85 in South Carolina. I had thought about doing it for years but as you know there’s a big difference between thinking about it and actually doing it. So, that was the beginning … and that was about 15 years ago.”

Lucy nodded.

“Fifteen years ago, huh?” she said. “And how many since then – and don’t give me an estimate, you know very well the exact number … guys like you keep track.”

Richard grinned.

“Twenty-three, and the last one was two weeks ago,” he said. “I was hoping to make it 25 by the end of the year. But that’s enough about me – time for you to dish. When and where was your first?”

Lucy looked around to make sure no one was eavesdropping.

“Believe it or not, it was my senior year in high school … at a drive-in in St. Louis,” she said. “But here’s the weird part – it was almost five years later before I did it again.”

“At the same drive-in or a different one?” Richard wondered.

“No, no,” she said. “Drive-ins are kinda hard to come by unless you want to travel. I like staying within a 50-mile radius, places like Mount Olive, Illinois, and De Soto, Missouri. it’s just kind of a rule I made up for myself a while back. Now it’s usually hotels. Cliché, I know, but effective.”

After the food came, Lucy and Richard dug in, chatting as though they had known each other for years. And considering how quickly they devoured their meal, it was obvious they wanted to continue the evening in a more intimate setting.

Richard flagged down the waiter, put cash on the table as soon as the check arrived, and reached for Lucy’s hand.

“I’m staying across the street,” he said. “Would like to come back to my hotel with me and – I don’t know – maybe compare notes?”

Lucy grabbed her purse, glanced at the vial of sodium cyanide resting near her keys, and winked.

As they made their way out of the restaurant and began to distance themselves from the other patrons, Lucy gave Richard a quick peck on the cheek.

“I’m so glad we found a dating site for serial killers on the dark web,” she said. “I’m having such a great time!”

The $10,000 bill

Brady Lark walked into the Windy City Auction House, surveyed the marble floors and white columns leading up to the ceilings, and then sheepishly waved at the woman stepping out from behind a glass counter.

“Excuse me,” he said. “Are you the manager?”

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Amanda Archway extended her hand and smiled – providing a quick once-over of the young man adorned in gray high-waisted, wide-leg trousers, a V-neck polo shirt and black Oxfords.

“I’m actually a specialist here at WCAH, but I suppose that qualifies as being a manager. Is there something I can help you with?”

Lark handed over a crisp bill he pulled from an envelope.

“Gee, I certainly hope so,” he said. “My name is Lark – Brady Lark – and I don’t really know who I should talk to, but I was just wondering what this is worth.”

Archway eyed the currency, put on the reading glasses that had been dangling around her neck, and carefully studied it.

“My goodness,” she said. “A $10,000 bill. I’ll be completely honest … I’ve seen many antiques and antiquities, but I’ve never even seen one of these up close before. I’ve certainly never held it in my hand.”

She was hardly alone; very few people in the new millennium had seen an actual $10,000 bill. It hadn’t been issued since 1945 and was taken out of circulation in 1969.

When it came to monetary collectibles, this was one of the rarest of finds.

“Just by looking at its markings, it appears to authentic,” Archway said. “And it’s in pristine condition … truly remarkable. May I ask how it came to be in your possession?”

“It’s my grandfather’s,” he said. “He’s a scientist – was a scientist, I mean – and he was always curious to learn how much it had increased in value. He, uh, left it to me in his will.”

Archway walked over to her counter, gently laid the bill down, and began typing furiously on her phone.

“I’m going to get our on-site appraiser to look this over,” she said. “If he can authenticate this, I think we can make you an offer you’ll be extremely pleased with.”

Lark didn’t notice any chairs, so he nervously paced back and forth – hands in pocket – as Archway signaled the appraiser over to study the bill.

Although only a couple of minutes had passed when Archway approached him, the wait seemed interminable.

“Mr. Lark, sorry to keep you waiting,” she said. “There is no question that this is, in fact, a very real and truly exquisite $10,000 bill. There are only a handful left in the world and I can’t imagine ever finding one as well-preserved as this one.

“We’re prepared to offer you $100,000 for this bill.”

Lark’s eyes widened.

“Holy mackerel!” he exclaimed. “I really had no idea what you might offer. That’s a lotta clams.”

“Indeed,” she said. “You make a huge profit, and I’m quite sure we can do the same at auction. It’s a win-win for us both. It’s up to you, of course, but we can make this deal right here, right now. I just need some identification.”

Lark reached into his pocket and produced a driver’s license.

“Those are my credentials,” he said. “Oh, and you can just make the check out to me.

“Absolutely,” she said, quickly completing the necessary paperwork. “We truly enjoyed doing business with you and if your come across anything else from your grandfather’s estate, please keep us in mind. Here is your check.”

While the money was real, the fake ID he had purchased only hours earlier had allowed him to open a bank account and fool Archway. With the windfall from the sale of the $10,000 bill, he was supposed to spend a couple of days buying as many books on quantum mechanics as he could find and use the rest to purchase silver, which would power the time portal constructed by his grandfather.

Unfortunately, the device was good for only one, two-way trip – transporting at 8:34 Eastern Daylight Time on July 12, 1940 and retrieving at 8:34 Eastern Daylight Time on July 15, 2022.

Lark stared at the check and felt the color drain from his face; his grandfather was a genius, but even geniuses make miscalculations.

“I’m just looking at the date on here,” he said. “I thought it was July 12, 2022.”

Archway shook her head.

“No, Mr. Lark,” she said with a chuckle. “It’s July 12, 2023. Don’t worry … we all get our years mixed up sometimes.”

WaWa Fest ‘23

Yapping, snapping – some, even napping – Chihuahuas had taken over the Eastern New Mexico Fairgrounds in Roswell on a mild Halloween afternoon.

While much of the world was spending the day preparing treats and plotting tricks for children masquerading as ghosts and goblins, the organizers of WaWa Fest ’23 had rolled out the figurative welcome mat for thousands of small dogs.

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Planning for the event had begun a year earlier with the launch of an advertising blitz seeking Chis of all shapes and sizes.

They were recruited to be part of what was being hailed as a “once in a lifetime event.”

Chihuahua owners were urged to send the company – WaWa Incorporated – pictures of their dogs, as well as documentation of their American Kennel Club or International Canine Club registration and immunization records. If selected, they would receive an all-expenses paid trip for two people (and unlimited number of Chihuahuas) to the gathering.

And what was the purpose, exactly?

Well, that was a question that remained largely unanswered.

Queries were met with the same standard reply: “It’ll be the greatest moment in Chihuahua history. Saying more would just spoil the surprise!”

By the looks of the fairgrounds – which had hosted the annual state fair just a few weeks earlier – multitudes of people didn’t mind taking the leap of faith.

Chief among them was Brenda Michaels, a short redhead with magenta lipstick and a woman whose tanning bed visits had covered many hours over many years.

As she walked to the registration table, she proudly presented Sparkles, a tan and black, long-haired Chi with a pink ribbon around her neck and decorative “alien” antennas.

“We’re in Roswell,” Brenda said. “And it’s Halloween. Figured I’d dress my little girl for the occasion. Plus, she’s the star!”

Festivities were set to begin shortly and take place on a portable stage that sat in front of a replica of the flying saucer that supposedly landed in Roswell in 1947.

While that infamous vessel allegedly carried alien beings from another world, this “UFO” – a dull silver in color – looked more like an oversized prop from a B-movie.

Whatever it was, Brenda and Sparkles would get to see it up close; they were the special guests of WaWa Fest ’23.

After registering, Brenda was greeted by a young man with a walkie-talkie in one hand and clipboard in another, dressed in military fatigues.

“You must be Ms. Michaels,” he said. “And I suspect that’s the Chi of the hour, Sparkles.”

Brenda gave Sparkles a smooch on top of the head.

“Yes sir, this is my little angel,” she said. “And she’s excited to be here … aren’t you my precious! Aren’t you! What a sweet, sweet baby you are!”

Sparkles was tucked safely in Brenda’s arms, and when the canine looked around at all the other dogs and people, she was alert but not agitated. The man gave Sparkles a gentle pat.

“I’m Captain Jonathan Terra and I’ll be handling things for our program this afternoon,” he said. “If you and Sparkles don’t mind, just follow me to the stage and I’ll get you both set up.”

Brenda imagined Sparkles would be presented with an award for being the world’s cutest Chihuahua, or perhaps the smartest. The breed is known for intelligence and ability to learn quickly, and Brenda was sure her little darling was second to none on both counts.

“Captain Terra?” Brenda asked as they made their way up the steps to the stage, “Now that this is about to start, could you just give me a hint about what this is all about?”

Terra pointed to the chair designated for Brenda – as well as a small, plush dog bed situated behind a microphone and portable speaker.

“It’ll be the greatest moment in Chihuahua history,” he said, echoing the party line WaWa Incorporated had stuck to from the outset. “Saying more would just spoil the surprise!”

Brenda grinned, shrugged, and carefully placed Sparkles in the bed before taking her seat.

In just a couple of minutes all the attendees and their Chihuahuas had gathered in front of the stage.

“Good afternoon,” said Terra, standing behind Brenda and Sparkles and holding a wireless microphone. “First of all, thank you all for coming and thank you for being such good sports. I know many of you have traveled thousands of miles without really knowing what’s on the agenda today, and we appreciate you playing along with us. That said, Sparkles has a special announcement to make.”

The crowd roared with laughter as Terra adjusted the mic in front of the dog and proceeded to punch in a code on the speaker.

Sparkles began chirping, but the voice coming out of the speaker was synthesized and translated from dog sounds to the English language.

“Greetings,” said the dog, giving rise to even more chortling from the audience. “Ever since a spacecraft carrying a select crew of our colonists arrived in the Yucatán Peninsula during the Mesoamerican Classic Period, we have lived among you and evolved in order to adapt to Earth’s environment. We have become your companions, and, for the most part, we have found great joy on your planet. However, it has been our goal – nay, our mission – to return to our home world. Until now, this has not been possible.

“However, benevolent veterinarians and zoologists have been secretly working with us for decades in an effort to alter our physiology and allow us to safely return to space. Due to various vaccines and diets, thousands of us are now travel-ready. In addition, technology obtained from Area 51 has enabled us to contact a vanguard that has finally arrived to guide us home.”

The laughter had died down and been replaced by looks of bewilderment. Those looks turned to shock as the UFO behind the stage began to hum and glow, and a multitude of smaller aircraft appeared to drop from the sky and hover over the crowd.

“All of the Chis here today will be making the deep space trek back to Planet Chewy, and all of their humans are welcome to come along. Domes have been constructed that replicate an atmosphere much like that found on Earth, and that is where you’ll live. A word of warning: you probably won’t like the food, because to human tastebuds, it’s dry and gritty. And we will no longer tolerate being put in clothes – especially those little ballerina outfits – but we love you and welcome you, and will provide such clothes for you if that’s how you choose to dress. Unfortunately, there are hundreds of thousands more Chihuahuas who are not up to date on their shots and will be unable to travel. Others have simply chosen to stay here because they have come to enjoy harassing cats and barking at squirrels.

“We will now begin the boarding process, and all humans wishing to travel with us should raise your hands and you’ll be assigned to a craft and given boarding instructions.”

Brenda’s choice was easy. She picked up Sparkles, gave her a tight squeeze, and the pair slowly made their way up the ramp to the mother ship. Just before entering, though, Sparkles released a piercing bark, which was the sign to be put down.

The Chihuahua then raced back to the microphone.

“One last thing for those of you humans choosing to stay behind,” Sparkles said. “Beware of dachshunds. They are a villainous lot, and cannot be trusted.”