This is Rian's account of hanging out with Hannah on one of those work days.
Hannah the Great
Back in the saddle, literally. I think I was ridden like your least favorite mule for at least 15 minutes…pure torture (you try it)! A bit of heeyah & giddeup are no longer my favorite expressions.
Hannah and I were sneaking wary sidelong peaks at each other when we thought the other wasn't looking, daggers cast in a glance. We have quite the history, her and I.
Believe as you will but, I'll tell you nay is she the innocent sweets, but a creature to be feared, a fireball, a banshee, the Kraken. Fear is inevitable, it starts in the pit of your stomach, then your knees start to tremble, the anticipation is agony…all of a sudden she's on you like a wet noodle, all hugs & kisses…eewww (sputters & spit), but don't think this is sincere, oohhh no, she's setting me up for something, I can feel it, just biding her time with me in the crosshairs, probably has the poison chapstick or something.
Torture AND humiliation…Barbie Tea Party. I'm at a loss for words, masculinity leaching from my Ego. I got a purse and a cup (hats optional), dress up shoes which were cute but, too small; I can't go on, I've said too much already…at least we got to dance as slammin tunes pumped from the RV/Pool/Disco machine, thing.
When Carrie arrived I was battered & bruised (you know, the Ego) and feeling fresh from the juicer nursing my wounds, though, I found myself wishing that work was for those who have nothing better to do…at least we had fun for a few hours.