The First Time Ever (I Saw Her Face)
In 1984 I was introduced to her by a mutual friend. That was the
first time,
ever, I saw her face. We talked for a while, that was it. My
friend later
asked me what I thought of her. I replied that she was nice.
My friend then
whipped out the lady's business card and the lady had written
her home number
on the back. I thought, hmm, Free Sugar!
I called her, we started going out, and before long I was hooked.
I went to
her house one evening, she had a few tequila sunrises before
I got there.
We were still getting to know each other. I must have said something
she didn't
like about her cats, 'cause a moment later she's brandishing
a . 22 pistol at
me telling me to "get the **** outta her house." I said, "Yes
ma'am!"
I must have been a little slow in going because she started firing
shots at me.
I ducked down behind the couch. Ping, Ping, Ping, went the .
22.
Out, out, out the door went a concerned Brain Smasher.
I scrambled to my little Toyota and got the hell outta Food-Phone.
I get on the highway going north to my house in Oklahoma City.
Before long, I have four headlights right on me and a car right
on my bumper.
IT WAS HER!
I tried to get away, but she was on my bumper like a crazed NASCAR
driver.
I remembered she had a six cylinder in her car, I only had a
four.
There was no escape.
I pull into my driveway. She flies out of her car running towards
me.
I'm reciting the Lord's Prayer. She is crying and begging my
forgiveness.
I say, "anything you say dear." We go in my house and make wild
passionate love!
I knew then she was the gal for Brain Smasher.
We got married on February 14, 1985. I will always remember that
day.
There was a bomb threat at city hall that morning while we were
getting our
marriage license. We set up shop at Smasher Manor. No kids though.
She couldn't have kids.
My Doc, Ol' Al Bendover, MD, told me, "You're firing blanks boy."
A few years later we were in Ft. Worth staying at the Stockyards
Hotel.
We went over to the White Elephant Saloon to see Alvin Crow and
the Pleasant
Valley Boys. Real country swing. She had a few tequila sunrises,
I had some
longnecks. Went back to the Hotel and did what loaded, horny
married couples
do. I still remember the date, March 9, 1989.
Nine months later on New Year's Day, Superboy was born.
I asked the Doc, "How'd that happen?"
He told me I must had one in my chamber after all.
We had been married ten years and two weeks. She was on a business
trip.
Got one of those middle of the night calls and it wasn't
the prize patrol.
It was her, she had taken sick and they were going to operate
in the morning.
So I flew out in the morning and she was on the table for 14
hours.
They wheeled her out and the Doc said her veins had turned to
mush
and they couldn't save her.
She never came to, and I held her as she slowly died in my arms.
That was the last time, ever, I saw her face.
She would have been 41 today.
"The first time ever I saw your face, I thought the sun rose
in your eyes,
and the moon and the stars were the gifts you gave, to the
dark and empty
sky, my love. I thought our joy would fill the earth and last
'till the end
of time my love. And last 'till the end of time."
In Loving Memory, Brenda Gayle G. (June 23, 1959-February 23, 1995)