The Golden Girls And The New Roommate (WITH A SURPRISE GUEST!) by Joslyn Corvis

Disclaimer: In no way, shape or form do I own the Golden Girls, as a whole, or individually, although I would love to have one of my own some day. This piece is written sheerly out of my immense love and adoration for them, and is in no way meant to infringe on copywritten material. Thank you.
Joslyn ❤

That’s right! Your four most faaaaavourite girls are back, and this time with your fifth favourite girl! It’s:


by the one and only Joslyn Corvis


Ring ring…ring ring…

“Oh, I’ll get that. I placed an ad for a new roommate. Adding that guest room to the house was supposed to enhance the value, but now I find myself scrimpin’ and savin’ just to pay for it.” Blanche hussied, I mean, hustled to the phone.

“I told you we didn’t need an extra room,” Dorothy said, momentarily looking up from the newspaper.

“I know it was a mistake now, but it can’t be undone.” Blanche picked up the phone. “Hello?…Yes…yes…Well if you’d like to come by to look at it, I’ll be around all day. Unless, of course, it’s after six. I’m going on a date, but my roommate Dorothy would be more than happy to show you around since she never goes out on Saturdays. Good, see you then. Bye-bye.” She hung up the phone. “Well that’s just some wonderful news. We have a potential renter.”

“Blanche, I understand why you’re doing this, but I just hope it doesn’t upset the balance we have here.”

“Well, she sounded rather delightful over the phone. I can’t wait to meet her to see if she’d be a good fit for our little crew.”

Sophia walked in from the kitchen, catching the tail-end of her sentence. “Crew? Oh, let me guess. The construction workers are taking Blanche out to lunch again and coming back here for dessert.”

“No, Ma. Blanche decided to rent out the additional room to someone to help pay for the renovation. Hopefully it will only be temporary.”

“Oh. I thought this was going to be a repeat performance of last Friday. I got more sleep in Sicily after the invention of the machine gun than I did that night.” Then she walked to her bedroom.

Rose had just gotten home from the store and was looking rather forlorn as she carried a paper bag of groceries in with her.

“What’s the matter, honey?” Dorothy asked.

“Nothing. Nothing at all! I’m fine!”

She walked off to the kitchen, and Blanche and Dorothy followed.

“Rose. Now I know something is bothering you. Why don’t you tell us about it. Maybe you’ll feel better,” said Blanche.

Rose put the bag of groceries on the counter and they all joined together at the table.

“Well,” she said hesitantly, “I’m a little anxious about getting a new roommate.”

“Oh, I know. We’ve lived together for so long, it’s going to be strange having a fifth wheel around here. But you know, maybe she’ll become part of our own little family.”

“No, it isn’t just that. I just keep thinking about what happened to Jenson Fluggelhoffer back in St. Olaf. You see, he had four sons. For years they worked the farm together. The four boys shared a bed with the family pet. Rufus. After their chores were done, they would play tug-of-war with Rufus, and run around the yard with him. But one day, Mrs. Fluggelhoffer revealed she was pregnant with their fifth child. Well, four growing boys and Rufus were more than enough for them to feed, not to mention how the bed was beginning to get a little crowded. So, they sat their sons and Rufus down to have a little talk. Then Mr. Fluggelhoffer told them that one of them had to go. The oldest was thirty-eight, so he was first in line to move out…”

Dorothy and Blanche glared at Rose.

Blanche spoke up. “I thought you said they were ‘growin’ boys’, but he was thirty-eight? And his mother was having a baby? How old was she, Rose?”

“Yes. As it turned out, the Fluggelhoffer men started out very short and continued to grow well into their fifties. Even then, the tallest one was four-foot-two when he died at the age off ninety. As for Mrs. Fluggelhoffer having a baby later in life, well all of St. Olaf had rumours about that. She said it was unexpected, but we all knew it was to trap Mr. Fluggelhoffer into marriage.”

Dorothy rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why I’m saying this, but go on, Rose.”

Blanche cast Dorothy the evil eye.

“Anyway, their eldest son begged and pleaded to stay. He didn’t think he could make it on his own. After all, he could barely reach the top pantry in the kitchen without his mother’s help, so how would he make it in this big, tall world? They gave everyone a chance to state their case as to why they thought they should stay. He couldn’t do farmwork, and he couldn’t even speak. I guess that’s why the decision was unanimous, but still heartbreaking.”

“So they got rid of Rufus, the dog.”

“Oh, no, Dorothy! Rufus wasn’t a dog. He was a goat. And though I’d hardly consider it speaking, he was able to communicate in his own way. He baa’d like he’d never baa’d before, telling them he was a fine asset to the farm. After all, he was the one who kept the grass trimmed. It was the youngest boy. Hans. He would pretend to be picking fruit, but he was actually eating it all. A few months before she became pregnant, they’d noticed a fruit shortage and Rufus told Mr. and Mrs. Fluggelhoffer that he didn’t want to get anyone into trouble, but he’d seen Hans gorging on fruit. Sure enough, when Mr. Fluggelhoffer checked out Rufus’ story, he found apple cores and orange peels in Hans’ section of the orchard and Hans felt so bad he’d confessed.”

Dorothy looked at Rose with lack of amusement before speaking. “And what does this have to do with anything?”

“Once this new roommate moves in, what will happen to me? Dorothy, I’m scared. I don’t want to end up like Hans Fluggelhoffer!” Rose cried. “How will I ever make it without you guys? And who will reach the cereal boxes on the top shelf for me?”

“Honey, we wouldn’t trade you for the world. Even though we’d like to sometimes,” Blanche said. The doorbell rang. “That must be the roommate. Maybe I should say ‘applicant.’ We’ll take a vote to see if we think she should move in or not after she leaves. Let’s go meet her.”

They went to the living room to greet this mystery roommate, and Sophia joined them, not wanting to be left out. At first glance, everyone was taken aback.

“Hi,” she said. “I’m here about the room?”

“Yes. Yes, come in. I’m Blanche, and these are my roommates, Dorothy, Rose, and Sophia.” She tried to hold it together, shocked by the girl’s appearance.

“My name’s Joslyn. Joslyn Corvis. Nice to meet you all!” she said, beaming with friendliness. She was dressed all in black with thick black eyeliner and two little crosses drawn by her right eye. Black lipstick accentuated her full, round lips, and a large silver spider with a red gem hung from a long chain around her neck.

“Whoa. What coven did you come from?” Sophia asked.

Joslyn laughed as Dorothy apologised.

“I’m sorry about my mother, she can be a little Shady Pines—I mean, rude sometimes.”

“It’s quite all right; I get that a lot. I’d love to see the room, if it’s okay.”

“Sure, right this way,” said Blanche. “This, of course is the living room. Out that way is the lanai, and through this way is the kitchen, where we scare up our meals.” She cringed at her own comment, worrying she may have offended her guest. “I mean, where we prepare our meals.”

“I don’t know about this. She looks a little…out of place,” said Dorothy.

“Dorothy, I’m surprised at you! You were just telling me how it might be kinda nice to have a new roommate. Besides, aren’t you usually the one who says you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover? She may be a fun and interesting person. We’ll have to get to know her a little better before we pass judgement on her, good or bad.”

“Oh, I know Rose, but now that we actually have someone here looking at the room, it feels more real. I didn’t actually think it would be that big of a deal, but if we’re going to have someone else living here, I want to make sure it’s the right person.”

“Living here?” said Sophia. “She looks sort of dead to me. Call the morgue and see if there’s an escaped body on the loose!”

After looking at the room, Blanche and Joslyn joined the rest of them in the living room.

“So what is it you do for a living?” Dorothy asked, quickly adding, “Shady Pines, Ma!”

“I’m a writer.”

“Oh, sounds interesting. I’m a big reader. Tell me, what kind of things do you write about?” Dorothy was not intrigued.

“I love to write about scary stuff.”

“Could’ve fooled me!” Sophia interrupted.

“It this may sound a little crazy, but I do a lot of fan fiction at the moment. I don’t get paid for that, it’s just for fun. When I have nothing better to do on a Saturday night, I write about my favourite TV show. It’s about four women who are in their golden years, but they’re so youthful and vibrant and energetic! Anyway, they move in together and become the best of friends, talking about their jobs, love lives, and eating cheesecake.”

“Please!” Sophia interjected again. “Who wants to see four old women acting like they’re in their twenties? A show like that wouldn’t last a week! I know; I’m living it!”

“Cheesecake?” Rose offered.

“That does sound good. I think I’ll have a slice.” Joslyn said.

Everyone walked to the kitchen, and as they sat around enjoying the cheesecake, they chatted and laughed together. Joslyn fit in just like one of the girls. It was as if she was one of them. Blanche excused herself, calling the other three into the living room under the pretense of needing help with something.

“She’s a dream, an absolute dream! And she complimented me on my ‘radiant’ glow. Plus she’s a writer, and she has connections with other writers and band members that she does interviews for and all sorts of men! I think she’s a keeper!”

“You know, you can’t make a decision based upon a simple compliment or by how many men she knows, Blanche,” Dorothy said. “How about we tell her we need another week to see other potential roommates before we choose one who is right for us?”

Rose jumped to Joslyn’s defense. “Well, I like her! She seemed to really like my St. Olaf stories!”

“I’m with the nit-wit on this one,” Sophia agreed. “Anyone who thinks writing about four old ladies on a Saturday night is fun should get along perfectly with you, Pussycat. At least you won’t be the only one without a date. And I’d feel better knowing you weren’t sitting here pathetically on the couch all alone. You may still be pathetic. But not alone.”

“Well, I for one think we should wait and see if we have any other renters answering the ad first.” Dorothy said.

Blanche grew solemn. “Okay, Dorothy. But you’re delivering the news to her.”

They walked back into the kitchen. Dorothy looked at Joslyn, who smiled. “You know, I was just thinking, Miss Dorothy. If you choose me to be your roommate, maybe you could offer me a few beauty tips so I can land a date instead of spending my Saturday nights writing! I’m sure your social calendar is never empty.”

“Well, thank you!” Dorothy beamed. “Now we have to get something straight before we go any further. We want you to move in as soon as possible!”

And with that, Joslyn became one of the girls.


Golden Girls: The Undead in Miami

Disclaimer: In no way, shape or form do I own the Golden Girls, as a whole, or individually, although I would love to have one of my own some day. This piece is written sheerly out of my immense love and adoration for them, and is in no way meant to infringe on copywritten material. Thank you.
Joslyn ❤

Golden Girls: The Undead in Miami

“Oh, I could never be one of those things.  I’m faaar too pretty,” Blanche said, demurely holding a hammer.

“We have hordes of those things with the looks and IQ of my ex-husband Stan surrounding Miami and all you can think about is your looks?  Come on, Blanche!  Why don’t you help me board up these windows?”

Because, Dorothy, you’re the strong one.  I’m built for looks, while you’re built for brawn.  Besides, if we survive the night, I have a date tomorrow evening as long as he doesn’t become one of those hideous creatures.  I couldn’t allow myself to be seen with one of those things in public; what would people think?”

“That you’ve run out of the living and have to slut around with the living dead?  Now come and help me with these windows!”

“Well, the other rooms are boarded up,” Rose said as she entered the kitchen.  “It should hold up for the night.  Hopefully by then, help will be on the way to rescue us!”

Just then Sophia walked in.  “Rescue us?  Please.  Back in Sicily, it was every man for himself!”  She walked over to one of the cabinets, pulled out several pots and pans and finally yelled, “A-ha!”

Dorothy stopped hammering for a moment.  “What is it, Ma?”

“This is my emergency weapon stash.”  Sophia took out a large box full of guns and ammunition.

Rose stared wide-eyed.  “Sophia, you know how to shoot a gun?”

“No, Rose, she’s just going to whack them to death with a pistol,” Dorothy responded with her characteristic sarcasm.

“Heeeyyy, I was born in Sicily, and when ya grow up in Sicily, you learn how to use a gun before you learn to walk,” Sophia added.

“Ohhh, I know what you mean.  Back in Saint Olaf, you don’t grow up without learning to use a knife!”

“I never knew Saint Olaf was such a dangerous place to live,” said Blanche puzzled.  “The way you talked, I always pictured it full of cows and milk and cheese.  I never knew there were knife-wielding street-urchins just roaming about.”

“Oh, no, Saint Olaf didn’t have much crime at all.  But you can’t learn to sculpt a cheese sculpture without a knife.  It was an old Saint Olaf pastime.”

Dorothy finished boarding up the window.  “There!  It’s all taken care of.  No thanks to Miss I-Don’t-Want-To-Break-A-Nail.  In case we need more rations, I can run to the store.  I’m just hoping this whole thing will pass before we run out of food!”

“Oh, no, I just couldn’t let you do that.”

“Wow, Blanche.  I’m impressed.  You’re actually worried about me.”

“Of course I am!  If those FBI people see you out there, they might just think you’re one of the undead.  At the very least I let me give you a makeover before you go.  Those terrible bags under your eyes just scream ‘I’m a zombie!’”

“Yeah,” Sophia agreed.  “Maybe with Blanche’s help, you can catch a man.  I bet those zombies have seen more recent action than you have, and some of them have been dead for centuries!”

Rose interjected.  “Now is not the time to insult Dorothy.  Although, I have to agree with you guys.  She is starting to look a little undead.”

The night was a long one.  The radio said it would be best to turn out the lights and to keep the noise level down, so as not to attract the things.  Thank goodness Blanche’s room was virtually sound-proof, so they spent the night in there.  At some point the power went out, so they just sat there chatting.  Rose reminisced about Saint Olaf.  Sophia talked about Sicily.  Dorothy talked about her job as a substitute teacher, and Blanche talked about dates past and those that she hoped for in the future.  If there would even be a future for them.

It was late when they fell asleep, but no one could be sure of the time.  But when Dorothy and Blanche awoke to the sounds of guttural moans and gunshots, they were terrified when they realized that Sophia and Rose were missing.

“Ma!  Ma!  Are you okay?”  Dorothy ran to the bathroom where she had heard the sounds emanating.

“Get back, Pussycat!  We’ll handle this!”

Rose ran to the door and locked Dorothy out.  Dorothy had no choice but to join Blanche and worry.

“There’s no way those two can ward off those…those…things!  Ma is way too frail, and Rose is…well, she’s Rose!”

“Now, Dorothy, I can assure you that your mother can take care of herself and with that blank stare Rose always has on her face, those zombies will just think she’s one of them.”

Dorothy looked rather worried and buried her face in her hand.  Blanche walked over to her and put her arms around her in an attempt to console her.

“You know, I’m just as worried as you are.  But if they told us to stay back, we have to trust them.  We have to hope for the best.”  Blanche tried to be as positive as possible, but Dorothy was skeptical.  “Now, Dorothy, I’m sure that we’ll be rescued soon, I just know it in my heart.  And you have to believe that.  You have to believe that tomorrow, the four of us will step out onto the lanai with the sun shining on our faces as we share some laughs, and maybe have a couple of drinks before we all go out on our dates.  And when we get home, we’ll talk about how our dates turned out.  And everything that happened in between.  You just have to believe that, Dorothy.  And if it doesn’t happen tomorrow, you have to believe it will happen the next day.  Or the next.  Or the next.  But we can never give up that hope.”

“You’re right, Blanche.  You’re right.  Tomorrow, we’ll all set out to go on some midnight rendezvous with a handsome, eligible bachelor.  And then we’ll tell each other all about it.”

“Oh, when I was talking about the dating part, I meant Sophia, Rose and I would probably bring home our stories for you to listen to.  I know it’s rare that you break your dates with Alex Trebec.”

Dorothy fixed her eyes on Blanche.  “You know, for a minute there you had me feeling better.  Now you’re making me wonder if I should stay here and hope things will go back to normal, which would consist of late nights watching reruns of Jeopardy, or if it would be more interesting to go out there and live as a zombie.  But I think you’re right.  We just have to hope for the best.  God, I’m worried about Ma and Rose!”

Suddenly Rose and Sophia walked in, spattered with blood and smiling.  The only light in the room was coming from a flashlight, but it was a bright one.  Blanche liked to use that one as a spotlight sometimes.

“Well, Pussycat.  You don’t have to worry about a thing anymore.  It’s all been taken care of.”

“You mean, those things are gone?”  Dorothy got up and hugged her mother and Rose, and then Blanche joined them.

“Yep.  And it was a piece of cake!  Especially with Rose by my side.  You should’ve seen us!  We were incredible!”

“I can’t believe you took care of it all by yourselves.  You’re so brave, and I’m so proud of you both!  You had me worried sick!”

“Please, Dorothy.  Don’t you know who you’re dealing with?  Picture it.  Sicily.  1938.  Half of my deceased friends and family rose from their graves under some mysterious Italian curse.  Pretty soon, the living were being turned into zombies and coating everyone’s brains in marinara sauce.  That’s one big difference between Italian zombies; you had time for them to cook the sauce to perfection before they started feasting on people.  These zombies don’t seem to care how their food looks, let alone how it tastes!  They tried to eat Rose, for goodness sake!”

“So then what happened?” Blanche asked.

“Well, with most of the village joining the other side, someone had to take care of it.  Everyone locked their doors and hid inside their houses.  Everyone except one brave young girl, who was the only one daring enough to take care of it.  And that young girl’s name was Sophia.”

“Wow, Sophia!” Rose gasped.  “She had the same name as you?”

“Rose, I gained so much respect for you after seeing you in battle tonight.  You were amazing.  Like nothing I’ve ever seen before.  We were a real team.”

“Thanks, Sophia.  I feel the same way.”

“But after that question, I realize what made you such a great warrior against those rotting yutzes.”

“What’s that?” Rose smiled.


Rose just ignored her as usual.  “Well, you know I had my own little run-in with a Z-war back in Saint Olaf.  Farmer Bergensmergen’s chickens turned into zombies.  When we finally realized what was happening, Farmer Bergensmergen had eaten one of the chickens and had already infected at least twenty people.  We had to shoot them all in the head, and we’re still not sure we got them all.  It became known as the Saint Olaf Zombie Hunt.  Before long, we were accusing anyone with that blank, mindless stare of being a zombie.  The ultimate test was asking a hard math question: What’s the square root of nine?  Well, some time later we realized that no one in Saint Olaf’s history had ever gotten that question right on the math tests, so we figured we were either all zombies, or just really really bad at math.”

All at once, the lights came on and they walked into the kitchen to get to the radio, which was already switched to the “ON” position.  “We’re glad to report that the situation in Miami has ended, and we hope that it didn’t spread to other areas of Florida, or anywhere else for that matter.  But the situation in Miami does appear to have been resolved.”

After hearing the news that the situation was under control, Dorothy turned the radio off.  “I say we go celebrate with some cheesecake, now that those things are gone,” she said.

“Uh-oh.  Looks like the only one of us who didn’t make it was the cheesecake,” said Sophia as she opened the fridge.  “That power outage really did a number on it.”

“Good news, girls; I stored one in an ice chest just in case we decided to have a little celebration,” said Blanche.

The faintest light of morning began to peek through the small gaps in the boarded windows.

Dorothy got up.  “I’ll get the plates.”

“I’ll get the cheesecake,” followed Blanche.  “And the silverware.”

“And Rose and I will just sit back and relax.  While you two were asleep, we were busy taking care of zombies.  Every last one of ‘em.  Miami is now safe, thanks to us!”

Just then, the phone rang.  Blanche answered and told Dorothy that it was her ex-husband calling to make sure that they were okay.  Dorothy told her to tell him that she was busy.  “We spoke too soon.  Ya must have missed one, Ma.”

Golden Girls 2011: Fan Fic by Joslyn Corvis

Disclaimer: In no way, shape or form do I own the Golden Girls, as a whole, or individually, although I would love to have one of my own some day. This piece is written sheerly out of my immense love and adoration for them, and is in no way meant to infringe on copywritten material. Thank you.
Joslyn ❤

Ever wonder what would have happened if the Golden Girls were here and now?  How would they handle dating in the world of technology?  Well, my friends, that question is answered…right here.

And if you’re reading this, let me just say, “THANK YOU FOR BEING A FRIEND!” 😀

Golden Girls 2011

Fan Fic by Joslyn Corvis

“Girls,” Blanche said in her sing-song Southern accent.  “I just don’t know what to do!

“What’s the matter, Blanche?  Did you accidentally post your private pictures to Facebook again?” Dorothy asked sarcastically as she sat at the kitchen table, next to Rose.

“I’m serious.  This Internet dating thing has my schedule so full, I don’t know where to start!  Why, I had to upgrade my membership just so my inbox would hold more messages!”

“And where are you signed up?”

“Oh, Dorothy.  A cougar is an older woman.  I won’t qualify for at least another twenty years.”

“Face it, we both qualify as cougars whether you like it or not.”

“You should really get hip to the lingo.  A cougar is an older woman that younger men desire.  Neither of us are cougars, but for different reasons.”

Dorothy shot Blanche her famous deathly-stare.

“Back in Saint Olaf,” Rose chimed in, “Being a cougar was the highest insult.  No one wanted to be a cougar, but there was another term we used.  It was a compliment when a man told a woman she was like one of the most magnificent, beautiful, elegant creatures on Earth.”Blanche was hesitant as she asked her question.

“And what animal was that?”

“The buffalo!” Rose beamed.  “I can’t tell you how many times a boy would come up to me and say, ‘Wow, you’re a real buffalo.’  Well, of course, the other girls were jealous of me because all the boys agreed.  And when I’d walk by the other girls in school, I’d hear them whisper, ‘She thinks she’s such a buffalo, but she’s nothing more than a fox or a cougar!’  Let me tell you, teenaged girls can be really cruel!”

Dorothy and Blanche rolled their eyes.  Dorothy continued to speak as if Rose hadn’t said a word.

“At any rate, Blanche, I think you’re getting a little too caught up in men you’ve never even met!  How do you know that the men on that site are really who they say they are?  They could say they’re rich doctors, that they own expensive cars; they could even go as far to alter their pictures, a little stretching and skewing, and a nip-tuck here with the mouse and instead of a pruny eighty-year-old man, you’re looking at an eighty-year-old man who had a PhotoShop job to look like a buff firefighter!”

“See, Dorothy?  With all that knowledge of PhotoShop, you just may have a chance at true love!”  With that she strutted out of the room as Sophia slipped into the kitchen.

“Ma, I just don’t know about Blanche and all this virtual dating.  Is it not enough that she can get a date just stepping out to the mailbox?”

Sophia chided her.  “Oh, Pussycat, stop acting so jealous.”

“Jealous?  Ma, I am not jealous.”

“Oh, please.  I know that look.  You’re jealous because Blanche is getting more action in Cyberspace than you’ve seen in real time!  Why don’t you sign up yourself?”

“You’re mother is right, Dorothy.  There are tons of dating sites out there. is just one of thousands!  Their offices are based in Saint Olaf.  And the great thing is, instead of money, you just mail them a box of marbles to pay for your membership.”

Dorothy stared unamused.  “Marbles?  Really, Rose?”

“Yes.  It seems that marbles are still quite popular in Saint Olaf.  Everyone is always losing them.”

“Dare I ask, and where do you suppose these marbles are going?”

“Well, actually, we suspect they’re being stolen by Little Lord Schmergen Gerkin.  Roughly translated, his name means, ‘Little Lord Who Dresses Like a Pickle.’  Well, he had a pet fish that he carried everywhere with him.  At first, there were only a few marbles at the bottom of the fish bowl, but after a while it started filling up until there was no more room for Schergen Gerkin Jr. to swim!  That’s when we had an inkling that it was Little Lord Schmergen Gerkin pickpocketing all the townspeople for their marbles, but we had no proof.  Eventually, Junior died, and the town vet cited the cause of death as ‘crushed by marbles’.  And even to this day, Junior’s grave is always piled high with new marbles.”

“Well, why doesn’t anyone just go take them off of the grave?”

“Oh, no Dorothy, we couldn’t do that.  It’s disrespectful to steal valuables from the dead.”

“YOU WOULD BE STEALING MARBLES FROM A FISH, YOU TWIT!”  She regained her composure once again.  “You know, maybe you’re right, Ma.  I think I’ll sign up now.”  She went to the living room and logged on to her laptop to sign up.



Dorothy sat in a small but nice restaurant as a man approached her.  “Are you Dorothy?” he asked.

“Oh, you must be my date for the evening!  Please, have a seat.  I hope this table is okay.  My, you’re even more handsome than you led me to believe!  It was a nice surprise since you didn’t send me a picture before our date.”

“Actually, I’m your waiter.  Your date for the evening asked if there was a Dorothy in a blue dress waiting for a Derek, and when I pointed you out to him, he said he had to go.  He was in a panic, something about eye surgery.  Is he a doctor?”

“No!  He’s a pizza delivery man!  I feel so silly, I should have never tried this whole Internet blind dating.  This is humiliating, being stood up like this.  I think I’m going to just pay for the wine and go, and you can keep the change.”

“Actually, if you can wait for another half an hour, I’ll be getting off my shift.  Maybe we can grab dinner somewhere?”  The waiter looked at her, hopeful.

“Sure.  Sounds like fun.  I’d really like that.”

“My name’s Roger, by the way.  It’s nice to meet you Dorothy.  When I get off work, I’ll use my address book app to find us a nice eatery.  Someplace classy enough to suit a classy lady like yourself.”

Dorothy smiled.


Blanche was on a date with the most eligible bachelor on her match list.  He was handsome.  Funny.  He drove an expensive car.  They had gone out early Saturday, and he lavished her with expensive gifts and spoiled her at fancy restaurants.  And then back to his place.  But there was one minor problem.

“Well, Blanche.  This is where I live!” said her date, Ted.

“It’s gorgeous!  Oh, I could absolutely see myself living here, just like a princess!  Except, I don’t think I could wear a tiara.  It would detract attention from my sparkling eyes.  Oh, who am I kidding, even a tiara couldn’t compare!”

“Now, when we get inside, we have to be quiet.  My mom doesn’t like it when I bring women home without clearing it with her first.”

Blanche was shocked.  They spent an hour and a half in his room downstairs, watching T.V. and laughing quietly.  She couldn’t relax because she was highly uncomfortable.  He didn’t mention this in his profile.  But maybe there was more to the story.

“So, when did your mother move in with you?”

“Move in?”

“Well, yes.  You said she lived here.”

“Oh,” said Teddy.

“No, I live with her.  I never moved out.  I never saw the point.  This way, I can spend as much money as I want, as long as I can pay my car payment, insurance, that type of stuff.  But I don’t even have to worry about buying groceries.  And she does all my cooking and laundry.  She even cleans my room!”

“Teddy, Honey.  I really like you.  But, don’t you think you’re a little too old to be living in your mother’s house and relying on her to do your daily chores?”

“Not at all.  Hey, why don’t we go heat up some Hot Pockets?  My mom just bought a brand new box!”As they entered the kitchen, they were both surprised to see Ted’s mother sitting there.

“Oh, so you brought another one of your friends home without telling me?”

“This is Blanche.  She’s my date for the night.”

“DATE?  Theodore, she’s old enough to be your grandmother!” she exclaimed.“Look, I do not have to stand here and take this!  Teddy, take me home!”


“Oh, it was dreadful, just dreadful!” Blanche shrieked as she walked in the door as Dorothy sprawled comfortably on the couch.

“Oh, it was wonderful, just wonderful!” Dorothy sang.“You mean to tell me you met your perfect match from that stupid site?”

“Well, not exactly.  He left before I even got a chance to see him.  But the waiter and I hit it off, and we went out to a nice restaurant and made plans for next weekend.  The way I see it, SexyMiamiFloridaGuy didn’t know a good thing when he saw it!”

“Wait.  You’re telling me SexyMiamiFloridaGuy stood you up?”

“Yes, why?”

“Well,” said Blanche, “I caught a glimpse of him in the diner where we were supposed to meet.  That’s all I had to see before I hightailed it out of the place!  I didn’t think that man could afford to be picky.”

“Yes, and meeting Roger was the best thing that happened to me from this Internet dating.  I think I’m going to give it up and meet men the old fashioned way.”

“I’m with you, Dorothy.  It’s nice to have all of these admirers, but I think I’m going to give it up, too.”

“Blanche, I’m really proud of you, Honey.  For the last month and a half you’ve been almost addicted to it, and now you’re just giving it up cold-turkey!  You know, I’m really impressed!”

“Well, I realized that I don’t need this stupid dating site to feel wanted, to feel desired.  Instead, I’ll just set up a fan site.  That way, there will be no obligation to actually go out with these men, and they can still pay a small fee just to bask in the glow of my pics from the comfort of their own homes.”

Dorothy got up from the couch, annoyed.  “I’m going to go see what Ma is up to.  She’s been in the kitchen for a long time.”  They entered the kitchen in unison, with Rose sitting next to Sophia, staring at the laptop screen.  “Ma, what are you doing?”

“Internet dating.  Look at this, Dorothy!  HotRichItalian.  He’s thirty-two, works out, loves to travel, has a great job, and he’s single!  He’s been texting me for the last hour!  Boy, am I glad your father never got involved in computers and the Internet.”

“Oh, Ma.  You probably heard stories about how these sites make people stray from their marriages.  You know he would never have left you for some Cyber Floozy.”

“I know, I know.  But with guys like HotRichItalian on these websites, who knows what might have happened to my marriage?  The way we’ve been texting, you may be calling him ‘Dad’!  In fact, you may end up with a new brother or sister!”

Dorothy put a hand to her forehead.  And then, Sophia opened her purse and handed a box to her.

“By the way, Pussycat, can you take these down to the Post Office on Monday?  Don’t worry, I’ve already addressed it to Saint Olaf, Minnesota.”