So I met this hot gnome waitress at a diner that the guys and I stopped at for brunch yesterday. I meet hottie gnomes almost every day here out on the road. Well okay fine, maybe not every day. And FINE…at least they look decent in dim bar lighting.
This gnome hottie was different though. I saw her in broad daylight and still wanted to shag her. She had tangled dirty blond hair and long red fingernails. She was clumsy as hell and a terrible waitress. The guys and I ordered extra spicy bloody marys, but before she could deliver them to us, she tripped over a table leg and the entry tray of delicious hangover cure goodness went flying across the floor.
Fortunately only McCartney got splashed. Serves him right for wearing a freaking white button down shirt to brunch. LAME.
Her name was Lola and she fell on her knees, picking up the pieces of glass and wiping up the mess. She looked like she was going to burst in tears. But god she looked good on her knees! I knelt down next to her and put my hand on her dainty gnome shoulder. I said, “Honey, why don’t you go bring us new drinks now and bring that hot little tush over to my hotel room tonight. Then we’ll be even.”
Obviously had recognized us as the hottest gnome band in the history of gnome bands and her eyes lit up with excitement. Se hustled back to the bar to put in another order for four bloody marys. Brunch was eh so-so….stale toast, cold bacon…nothing to write home about. Not that I ever write home. Don’t get me started on my mommy issues.
I wrote my cell number on a napkin as we left the diner and blew Lola a kiss from the door.
A couple hours later, Lola’s shift ended and she gave me a buzz. I told her the hotel’s address and told her to bring a nice couch and some bright lamps. She said she didn’t understand. I barked at her to just do it and hung up.
Twenty minutes later, Lola showed up with an antique red velvet lounge couch from a nearby thrift shop and two stage lights from the local theater. I gave Lola mad props for her quick thinking and follow through.
I told her that although I was an awesomely famous musician with Amish Meth Lab, I was exploring my creative side by taking up oil painting. I went on to explain that I was only interested in the art form of nude painting and that she was lucky enough to be chosen as my first subject.
Without any hesitation whatsoever, she dropped her diner uniform to the floor, flung her double-D stabilizer over a lamp, and posed seductively on the velvet couch. I flipped on the stage lights, only to reveal the gross number of stains on said couch. We decided not just to ignore those and move on.
I spent the next seven hours and forty-two minutes staring at Lola’s magnificent nakedness. I let her leave on her red gnome hat, of course. This is how my very first oil painting turned out…..WHADDYA THINK!???!?!?!
Then she saw the monkey. She was like “WTF?”. I explained that the monkey was emerging from a time warp on the floor next to her supreme nakedness. She said she didn’t get it. I said she was dumb and that I didn’t have an answer, except that I just drew what I saw.
That’s when Lola started freaking out. She looked everywhere in the hotel room, but still didn’t see a monkey. And he didn’t see any time warp. She suddenly realized that she was stark raving naked in the presence of a legitimately insane individual. She grabbed her dress, shoved her panties in her purse, and ran out of the hotel room, barefoot, disheveled, and humiliated.
I doubt I’ll ever see that ole’ Lola again, but whatever. I know I’m not a raging lunatic and that’s all that matters. I have the evidence to prove it, goddamnit! When I awoke this morning (hungover, alone, and with terrible morning breath), I found another oil painting on the floor next to mine. But this one wasn’t mine and it wasn’t yet dry.
The monkey I saw the room with us last night must have painted this! What other explanation could there be?
But why is there a sheep in his painting? Did he see a sheep in the same way that I saw him? Do his ho’s think he’s a lunatic too? And where is this sheep, anyway?
All I know is that I need to meet this monkey. Clearly, we have some sort of metaphysical connection….which is something that ole’ Lola and I would have never had.
If you see a monkey that looks like this, please text me. Thanks guys.
Lennon The Gnome and Most Essential Musician of Amish Meth Lab