The Real Deal

It's been suggested to me on occasion (mostly by editors unfortunate enough to reside north of the Mason Dixon line) that my characters would be a bit more believable if I toned them down a little. Made them a tiny bit less eccentric, okay, maybe not quite so redneck. The truth is that the folks I write about are almost always inspired by real people I know. The words they speak are prompted by actual conversations I've overheard.

For example. Two women. Both of them my friends. One admiring the other's enormous red purse.

First woman. "Sure do like your purse."

Second woman. Owner of the purse. "Yeah. It's okay. But I wish it was bigger. You can't get nice big purses like you used to."

First woman. "Why would you need a purse bigger than that one? What else do you need that you can't carry in this one?

Purse woman. "Ah. Not much. Just my pistol is all. I used to have a purse with a nice pocket on the outside. Was the perfect place for it."

She wasn't kidding.

Then there was the curious conversation about the dog.

Says my patient, a college educated woman, diagnosed with pneumonia: "I've got to get out of here soon. I need to go home so I can see my dog."

Me, nurse who loves dogs, spoken with genuine empathy: "I bet you miss her. What kind of dog do you have?"

Woman: "She's just a mutt. But she can talk."

Me, remembering a dog on Letterman who howled along with her owner when she sang the happy birthday song: "Really. What can she say?"

Dog woman: "Lots of things. She calls me Mama. She can say cookie. Bone. Outside. I love you. She says lots of things. Why me and her talk all the time."

Me, sure she's pulling my leg but having fun playing along. "What does she call your husband?"

Her: "Nothing."

Me: "Not daddy?"

Her: "No."

Me: "Papa?"

Her: "No."

Me, not knowing when to leave well enough alone: "Your dog doesn't call you husband anything? Why not?"

Dog woman. Articulating each individual word. Shooting me the sympathetic, indulgent look you give to someone you suspect is a wee bit slow: "Honey, you have to understand. There's just some words dogs can't say."

Well of course.

I knew that.

My bad.

And they think I make this stuff up.