I had run out of gas on Route One the other day. I had walked the three miles to the exit, to find out it was another mile to the Texaco. When I got there, I found out that I hadn't brought any money with me. I called Terry. Collect. After receiving a severe tongue-lashing, she told me she was on her way. She loves me.

I guess I had been waiting out there in the sun too long, because I suddenly found myself hanging around, holding a conversation with the Devil himself. He likes to come out every now and again and tempt me. To be honest, though, I kinda liked the challenge. I knew I shouldn't push my luck like this, but he can't get to me, if I don't let him. So, anyway, there we were justa jawin', when suddenly he snaps his fingers in my face.
"Aha! I've got it!"
"Got what?" I asked, backing off a bit, just in case "it" was catchy.
"John," said Lucifer, "you like bikes, right?" (Well duh!! Like my chrome polished V65 Magna was a tricycle ya know!) But I kept my cool.
"Yeah, sure,"
"Well," said Satan, "I was thinking, if you were to denounce God and worship me, I could give you a new Harley for every day of the week. How's that sound to you?"
I thought about it, (just a little).
"Naw," was all I said.
"Naw! What do you mean naw? We're talking SEVEN, seven Harley Davidson motorcycles here." He was turning kinda red in the face, but then again this is Satan we're talking about.
Now, I've got some friends who own Harleys, and they ARE a pretty bike, but my friends seem to spend more time fixing them than riding them.
"Naw, I like my Honda." He looked like he'd explode. But he controlled himself pretty well.
"Okay, okay, let me think a minute," said the Devil.
"Don't burst a blood vessel," I joked. We were always kidding each other like that.
"Heeevey. You know that big ranch you've always wanted? Well, I can give it to you, with a hundred head of cattle, and twenty or thirty horses. Whaddya think?"
(Oh right, and I'll be able to keep it running off a restaurant manager's salary.) But I told him I'd think about any offers seriously, and... it really was my lifelong dream. I walked around the back of his truck (yeah, drives a beat-up old Chevy Blazer, nice engine though.) Cause I know what's coming.
"No thanks. Upkeeps too expensive."
"UPKE...UPKEEP!?" The sand started turning to glass under his feet, it was so hot.
"Watch your blood pressure." I quipped.
Actually, I was quite impressed, he controlled himself so well. Of course, that baked, stuffed turkey over there used to be a live vulture.

"John, John, what am I gonna do with you?" says the Devil in an attempt at levity. (Okay buddy, maybe you don't know, but I know what'll happen if you ever get your mits on me!) But I'm cool, I've got my armor with me.
"Okay, boy," says my erstwhile companion "let's see if you can pass on ....THIS!"
He snaps his fingers, and right in front of me, a beautiful 65 Corvette. Nice Car. I walk around the car. He's really getting good at this stuff. Then I look inside. I smile and look up at him.
"No ashtray. No deal." Man is he furious! It seems like the hills are smoldering behind me.
"But you don't even smoke."
"Sorry," is all I give him.
"Do you know where I have to go to get an ashtray for a 65 vette?" the Devil asks of me.
"Ummmm, Hell and back," I chuckle.
"Not even close," he fumes. "And that's not funny!"
"Sorry," I repeat. "Look," I said to Satan, "Terry's gonna be here with my gas any minute, and I've got to get home for dinner after that so ..."

I straddled my bike and put the key in the ignition.
"John, oooohh John, look what I've got for you!" I turn,
"Look, man I'm done for today, and ..."
OH NO!! Cherry Cheesecake. Sweat breaks out on my hands and forehead. I feel myself losing all control. Be strong, be strong I tell myself, it's not worth it, but it's no good. I'm a marshmallow when it comes to cheesecake. I stand up, and just about to bite into it .....

© Copyright John Stuart 1999