Minor Niggles.....

Kenny tidied his beer belly into his shirt. He smoothed a strand of hair over his baldy bit. Only minor niggles. He sauntered along down to Tinytown. Had the bride arrived? "At last!" thought genial, affable, balding and paunchy Kenny. After a few months of online emails, and with slightly drunken late night phone chats, she had arrived. Instant attraction. The nuptial express train pulled into his small town railway station.

His hopes were rising that, at last, Kenny was going to grow old disgracefully. His two ex-wives had taken their toll on him. But he never grew tired of being an optimist. It was Kenny's time to shine, basking in older love, at last.

Where was his bride? Her name was "Gorgeous", otherwise known as Gorge. "Ken doll!" Kenny turned and nearly fainted. "I'm Gorge!" exclaimed a large, graying woman, clutching a suitcase, a duffel bag, and the hand of a very red-faced and cross toddler.

"Gorge?" Kenny gulped, as Gorge just stood in front of him, beaming. Her grin was displaying an impressive amount of dental decay. "Take me home, lover boy. This is my grandson, Brent. He is a free spirit. So am I!" she added, grabbing his arm.

"Right, this might not be so bad," Kenny reassured himself. God was on his side, after all. Maybe this woman really understood him, finally. His exes never did, unfortunately. Both scary woman. These days it had all become minor niggles. Like his love life, was this it?

Had the bride arrived? Gorge marched into genial Kenny's home, sat down on the couch and grabbed the television remote. She was polishing off a couple of cans of bourbon which she had brought along for the ride. Brent yelled, "Puppy!", as he attempted to do naughty things to affable Kenny's black Labrador. Well, the canine had been enjoying his nap. Now he was not feeling so amicable.

Kenny was stunned. "Could you leave the dog alone, please, Brent?" "No!" the toddler shrieked. "Could you stop him taking off his nappy?' asked Kenny. "Grandma doesn't care. Let him express himself. Free the willy, eh Kenny!" Kenny was trying not to laugh. God had sent him a real blooper, but this was his soulmate.

Gorge opened her suitcase and removed a carton of cigarettes, two lighters, and an ashtray, along with a bottle of vodka. She had planned ahead. Of course, there were some textas for Brent, which he promptly grabbed, to start decorating kindly Kenny's immaculate walls.

"That online photo must have been old, Gorge," remarked Kenny. "I thought you were a young blonde. "Nah," said Gorge, "Grey is the new blonde. Fifty is the new young. You were young once too. I did use a red rinse in my hair. "Age is a minor niggle," Kenny remarked.

Kenny looked at Gorge, her partial red hair did match her bleary eyes. "Could you stop Brent coloring my walls?" Gorge gave a throaty chuckle. "He is a free spirit and must express himself. Grandma doesn't care. That's a lovely picture, Brent. You are my good little man."

Gorge took some hand weights from her suitcase. "I like exercising at the gym too," said Kenny. " exercise at home," Gorge replied. "I am the pride of the fleet at my single mother's chat room." She flexed her prize ham arms, hairy armpits on show in her sleeveless top.

Kenny gulped again, imagining his wedding night, flattened by Gorge and her large hips, naked in all her glory. Had his bride arrived? Brent by now had found the sharps drawer, and was attempting surgery on the very patient Labrador. "Er, Brent...." Kenny tried to intervene. "Minor niggles," Gorge told Kenny. All he could do was nod.

"Grandma doesn't care!" giggled Gorge. "Time for tiddles!" She drank more of her bourbon. Brent piddled on the carpet in the corner, then proceeded to hack the pot plants. "Well, once was decor," thought Kenny, ever the pacifist. "I detect an accent, Gorge. Where were you born?" "In Rooty Hill, in Australia, "You made that up," said Kenny, bemused. This Gorge was funny, sort of. "No, I did not! Australian surveyors have a great sense of humor. I come from Rooty Hill, and proud of it!"

"I thought we might cook together....." Kenny suggested. "You said you liked cooking." "Nah, too energetic," was the response. "Pizza!" yelled Brent. "Yes," said ever affable Kenny. "Yes, you can eat pizza. I know, by now, Grandma doesn't care. I have some frozen pizza in the freezer."

The dog crept away to hide under the bed. The bride had arrived! But Kenny was full of perseverance. He was on a promise here. "I shall cook us some big boy's dinner, a genuine fry-up!" Kenny fancied himself as a minor chef. "Now who's ready for bacon, sausages, eggs and fried mushrooms?"

"Hell, yeah!" said Gorge. She believed in gender equity in catering. Brent lay down on the couch, still with no nappy on. "Kenny, God is on your side. He has sent you a perfect match." Kenny was maybe protesting too much, but he had guts and determination. So far, the afternoon had a been a litany of minor niggles. It was online dating, after all.

Kenny cooked up a storm, overflowing plates of true grease. He felt a bit happier after dinner. Brent was settled on the couch with his pizza. Should Kenny lean in for that romantic moment, their first big kiss. Was this the start of something big? True love, or more minor niggles. Was Gorge hiding hidden talents, or was she after one thing?

God was on Kenny's side, he always believed that. Still, he had to do the dishes, getting dish-washing hands. He wondered if Gorge had really been waiting for him, like he had waited for his one, all that lonely bachelor time. Never mind, he told himself, she loved him across the miles so much. She had even brought him a bag of washing, just for Kenny. Lover boy realized that even if no one waited for him, washing was always waiting, with his name on it. Soon the suds overflowed, in the evening's soft darkening glow.

Kenny sank down on his chair at last. Gazing at his bride to be, he could see a pattern. As God was on his side, he did not need all these minor niggles. He phoned for a taxi, and sent Gorge back to the station, with her clean undergarments. She was now quite blotto, and irate. "You'll never be content!"

As God was on his side, Kenny did not need these minor niggles. His lounge-room was trashed, but that could wait till the morning. Genial, affable, single Kenny went to bed. The dog was still hiding. "Get over it," Kenny said to his Labrador, "She was glitch in our radar, a minor niggle. Who is a good boy?" The dog looked philosophical, hoping his owner did not expect a human answer. Minor niggle.