Slipstream - January 2015

Maverick Monthly Social: Silver Fox
By Hammer
It was one of
those days
when the sky
came down and
wrapped itself
around the world.
The rain clawed
at the windows of
the building like
an angry cat and tried to sneak in every
crevice. It was almost malicious
the way it came down, a million fingers
that drummed a constant, maddening
tattoo on the windows.
My name is Hammer. Sledge Hammer.
What people call me is something
else. I’m a private eye. It says
so on my door. I’ve got eight slugs
in me. One’s lead, and the rest are
bourbon. The drink packs a wallop,
and I pack a revolver.
I was sitting at my desk, watching
the smoke curl from the end of my
Lucky Strike, wondering where my
next case would come from, when
I noticed the pointed silhouette
against the glass on my door.
Standing: New members
Dennis and Carol Fisher with
Maverick Social Co-Chairs
Veronica and Paul Ramos. Seated:
Jon Glover and Tom Martin.
Ted Belden, new transfer
Todd Coon, first-time attendee
Steve Rapfogel, and Maverick
Social regular Tom Cundari
straight for me. She was cute too;
cute as lace panties.
Seems she was seeking out the location
of the latest PCA Maverick Social,
but was coming up boxcars. I’ve
taken a few missing person cases in
my day, but never a case for a missing
event.
“So why me? There must be a dozen
private eyes in this town who could
handle a job like this.”
“Word has it you have the hottest
Porsche in town, so I chose you.”
“You heard wrong, dollface. I make
payments every month, just like everyone
else.”
Sue and Ben Connell with
Henry Rosenbohm (center)
Photos courtesy Stephanie Ho
“So, you don’t know the where
of this shindig; do you know the
when?” I asked.
“Around six o’clock, the third
Thursday of every month.”
“That’s four hours from now, and
Dallas is three hours away. Doesn’t
give me much time.”
Mary Anderson and Member
Welcome Chair Stephanie Ho
“We’d better hurry then, Hammer.”
“Hold on, sweetheart. I work alone.”
“I’ve got a brand new 918 Weissach
Edition waiting for us downstairs.”
“With the Liquid Metal Chrome
Blue paint?”
“You betcha. And full carbon fiber
interior.”
“Let me just grab my hat and a pack
of Pall Malls.”
We landed at the Egyptian Room
on Mockingbird when I got a tip.
Some mug suggested I play E8 on
the jukebox. I dropped in a slug.
She was one of those fancy Dallas
socialites, a real classy dame. I’d
seen her picture a few times before
in the paper. She had a reputation
that preceded her, in fact, she had
two of them, and they were headed
26 January
I didn’t know whether to take her
comment as an insult or a compliment,
but what the hell, I really
needed the dough. The fifty bucks
felt snug against my ribs.
Amanda and David Price