Mondo and the Tomato

Mondo is a loner. Not the kind of loner that goes up in a building with a high powered rifle and picks off people he thinks might have something to do with whatever makes him angry, but the kind of loner who likes to ride his motorcycle long distances, read interesting and inspirational literature, and surf the web late at night looking for free porn sites. Every now and then Mondo thinks it would be nice to have someone to share this aloneness.

Having tired of waking up with a hangover and one arm around the village hunchback, and despite watching the CSB sift through the various losers of the week, Mondo decided to try internet dating. He found a free online dating site, and that made the decision easy.

Mondo started conversing with Betty Boop, who described herself as a former entertainer and hotel manager who is presently out on disability. BB sent Mondo some photos, and she appeared to be pretty cute, petite, long blond hair, height and weight proportional, just like her ad said. And no matter what Mondo said he likes, BB likes it too. Maybe, just maybe, Mondo had found his soul mate after all.

They decided to meet.

As luck would have it, BB has a brother and her mom living nearby, so she volunteered to drive four states to the left and meet Mondo. He took a day off and waited for her.

It was after eleven pm when a Chevy Suburban pulled into Mondo's driveway, and kids started pouring out in all directions. BB decided to bring her daughter Trashisha, and her daughter's three kids, all from different fathers, the last one apparently hoping to get his green card via inseminating Trashisha. Last but not least, hobbling up to the door on crutches, BB smiled and looked just like a little round happy face on a red ripe tomato. Sometime between when the photos were taken and she got out of the car in front of Mondo's place, BB had put on 80 pounds.
But what did that matter? They are soul mates.

They rushed the house, the kids promptly found anything edible and devoured it like locusts, and then BB asked Mondo if he could drive Trashisha and the kids over to her brother's place, because the Suburban was out of gas and she didn't have any money to buy more.

By the time they were ready to leave, it was long past midnight. Mondo loaded the tribe into his Tercel, and off they went in search of BB's brother's trailer. BB couldn't fit into the Tercel, so she stayed behind.

"How long you been a member of the site?" Trashisha asked Mondo.

"Too long."

"It's a pretty good site. I was using it for a while, but the last guy I went out with just wanted to rub my belly because I was eight months pregnant. He was a weirdo."

Mondo dropped the tribe off at Brother's doublewide, stopped at a bar along the way for several shots and beer chasers, then went back to his Tomato.

When the Tomato said she used to be an entertainer, she meant stripper, and when she said she was out on disability, she meant for the last four years. But Mondo didn't care, he just wanted to pass out. So he hid his wallet and keys and eased back onto the couch.

Mondo woke up in his own bed, naked, with the Tomato smiling down at him. He had a hangover.

"You were great last night," said the Tomato.

"Did I use a condom?" Mondo sat upright with a look of concern on his face.

"We were in too much of a hurry, but don't worry, I've had my tubes tied."

That's not what Mondo was worrying about, so he got out of bed and ran into the bathroom, where he drenched his genitals with Listerine. He decided to take a couple of the vicodin he had left over from his last bout of back pain, and what do you know, there were exactly a couple left, despite the bottle being about half full the day previous.

As the fog between his ears slowly lifted, Mondo realized there was an annoying buzz in the background, "Moving back here..., don't know where we'll stay..., need to get a fresh start..., getting a settlement soon..., You are wonderful..., really big place for just one person..., I'm walking better now, just a matter of time...."

Mondo went to work. He didn't sell anything. Walking hurts after you soak your genitals in mouthwash, so he was unusually subdued.

When he returned home, the Tomato was still there. It had eaten everything and wanted to go out for more food. Mondo said he was tired and just wanted to stay in and watch a movie. That was fine too with the Tomato. Anything was fine with the Tomato. The Tomato was remarkably easy to get along with.

Since they were going to be there all night, Trashisha came by and dropped her kids off then headed north towards the bright lights and bar scene downtown.

All of the children were at least two days from their last bath, and three days from putting on clean clothes. Pedrito, the baby, needed his diaper changed. Trashisha decided the best place to change the diaper was on the floor in front of Mondo while he tried to watch television and tune the horror out. The middle child was a boy with a very long raggedy mullet. Mondo suggested that maybe they could post a photo on one of the websites dedicated to photos of mullets.

Trashisha left and the children proceeded to break anything that could be broken. Mondo sat in his favorite chair and slowly drank himself into a stupor. The buzzing sound coming out of the tomato became hypnotic in it's ability to put Mondo into a deep deep trance. It was if he didn't want to be there, so he was somewhere else, riding his motorcycle against the wind across the vast Argentine pampa.

About 4 AM, Mondo woke to a loud pounding on the door. He went to answer it and found Trashisha drunk, with her nose broken and a taxi in the driveway waiting to get paid. Mondo handed Trashisha a twenty, and didn't get any change back.

Trashisha had gotten into a fight with a girl in the parking lot of the bar Mondo likes to go to the most, then the girlfriend's boyfriend had punched Trashisha in the nose, breaking it. Trashisha wanted to know if Mondo had a gun she could borrow, and another twenty to take her back to the bar.

Mondo slept that night with one eye open, woke bright and early the next morning, gave the Tomato gas money back to whatever hellhole she surfaced from, and told the lot of them he was moving to South America in two days.


Anonymous said...

This blog is killing me! Great entertainment....

Anonymous said...

I've been reading this blog for a while and think its hilarious but I honestly can't imagine this place being real. You have to tip us off at some point where it is. I'll take some vacation time just to go there and kick some tires, maybe hit on the CSB and stare at tits-ahoy for a while!!!!

Anonymous said...

OMFG, poor mondo, unfortuneately, I have found myself in this same situation and was ready to kill when the chick refused to leave. Listerine, does that actually work on STDs? I'll have to give it a try.