It was a dark and stormy night….no, it wasn’t. Actually it was very early Monday a.m. My husband awakens me from a sound sleep with a hiss “someone is trying to break in the house”. I nod to let him know I heard and understand. He slides from his side of the bed and quickly slips on a pair of shorts and grabs the metal baseball bat. Equally soundless, I slip into my Ed Hardy tennis shoes (my favorite pair with the aqua and white stripes, rhinestones, geisha on one side, koi on the other). I slide open my lingerie drawer and pull out my sword.
We make our way down the hall in blackness. Sure enough, someone is rattling and kicking at our door. On the silent count of three, my husband jerks open the door and I switch on the light, my sword held high, ready to behead the invader.
A 20-something kid takes in my nakedness, white hair and sword and then rivets to my husband in red silk boxers holding the metal bat. Terror written all over him, he screams and falls to his knees, face to the floor. Obviously, the vengeful demons before him have scared him sober. The kid was beyond drunk and had become confused and thought he was at his own door.
Brad pulls him to his feet while I stand there, sword still in ready position, trying very hard not to burst out in laughter. “Good freaking grief. What an idiot.” and I smack him on the back of his head. We decide for Brad to drive him home a few streets over. I go and put on some clothes and follow behind in my car.
When we get there, I reach up and grab his hear and pull him down to my level, roundly lecturing him…stupid…driving that drunk…I could have killed you (his knees buckled at that)..be ashamed…stupid…ought to beat your butt…Brad stood with arms folded leaning against the car and shaking his head.
“yes ma’am…no ma’am….sorry ma’am…blubber blubber blubber.
He stumbles into his own house and we drive home, laughing hysterically all the way. “Did you see the look on his face?” “I’m surprised he didn’t poop his pants.”
A friend who heard this story commented: “I would have loved to see the look on the kid’s face. You KNOW he will tell his friends about “the mysterious lady with a Japanese sword down the road.” Your home WILL be the mark of intrigue and mystery–a haven of two non-super heroes with a sword and a metal bat. This is comic book material worthy of the Eisner Awards–Blade of the Not-So-Immortal Kunoichi, published by Not-So-Dark Horse Comics. Better yet, submit this plot to Quentin Tarantino as the basic outline of the third installment of the Kill Bill saga, Kill the drunk kid!”
Because of this episode, I have been given another title and to be honest, I like this one best: Kunoichi-no-Chesterfield
I think it is better than the Carolina Cherry Blossom, Wren, Magnolia of the East, Empress of the 11/16 Society.
Lord, what fools these mortals be. I’m still trying to decide what frightened him more – the deadly sword or the naked lady in Ed Hardy tennis shoes.
kanzen sakura 