Hey Dorothy You're Not in Kansas Anymore. Karen Mueller Bryson

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Hey Dorothy You're Not in Kansas Anymore - Karen Mueller Bryson


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      "So I've been told."

      "What do you do?"

      "I’m an actress."

      "That’s cool. I’m an artist. A painter."

      "That’s cool, too."

      "Yeah."

      "How’d you get to Tampa from Seattle?"

      "My ex-girlfriend moved out here to be closer to her parents, but right after I moved out here she dumped me. It was just so un-cool."

      "No kidding. So, now you’re stuck here."

      "I spent all my money just to get out here."

      "Bummer."

      "Totally."

      "Have you been to The Mansion yet?"

      "No, where is it?"

      "It’s here in Y’bor. A few blocks off the main street. It’s really cool. Goth, if you’re into that sort of thing."

      "Sure."

      "My friend Haley and I are probably going over there in a little while if you want to come along."

      "Love to."

      That’s when I noticed Haley had disappeared. I looked around the club but I didn't see her.

      "Did you see where my friend went?" I asked.

      He pointed over to one of the corner bars. "She’s over by that bar with some guy," he said.

      My initial reaction was like, cool, Haley found a guy, too. That was until I looked over at the bar. Haley was standing there with our good friend, Ray. We’ve known Ray for years. We all went to the University together. Hanging out with Ray is like hanging out with one of the girls but he refuses to acknowledge his orientation. He insists he’s straight. Maybe it was his strict Pentecostal upbringing that has caused so much confusion.

      Lahrs and I walked over to the bar to join Haley and Ray.

      "Who's the new addition to our family?" asked Ray.

      "This is Lahrs," I said. "Lahrs, these are my two best friends in the entire world, Haley and Ray."

      "Nice to meet you," said Haley.

      "Ditto," said Ray.

      "Nice to meet both of you."

      "Lahrs is an artist," I said, "He's from Seattle."

      "Long way from home," said Ray.

      "This is home now. I moved here a few months ago."

      "We're all natives," said Ray. "Florida born and breed."

      "So, what do you think of Florida so far?" Haley asked.

      "The beaches are fabulous. The sunshine is great. It's really humid. I haven't had that much time to explore the area yet."

      "Have you gotten to Busch Gardens?" Ray asked.

      Lahrs shook his head.

      "You must. I can get you discount passes."

      "Ray works at Busch Gardens," I said.

      "I don't just work at Busch Gardens. I'm a performer at Busch Gardens. You make it sound like I sell souvenirs or something."

      "Well, excuse me. Ray is a performer at Busch Gardens."

      "I feel much better," Ray said.

      "Dorothy was telling me that The Mansion is a pretty cool place," said Lahrs.

      "It's very gothic," said Haley. "If you're into that kind of thing."

      "Absolutely," said Lahrs.

      "We usually don't go over there until after eleven," I said.

      "We've got some time," said Lahrs. "What'd'ya say we do some more dancing."

      Lahrs and I went back out on the dance floor and Haley and Ray followed. The four of us danced until a little bit after eleven and then we headed over to The Mansion. From the outside, you wouldn't think too much of the place. It basically looked like an old warehouse. But on the inside, The Mansion was completely redone to look like a medieval castle. Most of the people in the place were wearing black and looked like they just stepped out of a vampire movie.

      "We're not really into the gothic costumes and stuff," I said. "We come here because they play cool music."

      "I like it," said Lahrs. "From an artist's perspective, it's very unique."

      Ray saw one of his Busch Garden buddies, so he ran up to the bar to say 'hi'. Haley, Lahrs and I stood at the edge of the dance floor and watched all of the costumed dancers. Haley decided that she wanted to dance, so she walked to the middle of the dance floor and joined in.

      "I see they've got some couches over in the corner. Want to sit down?" Lahrs asked.

      "Yeah, okay."

      Lahrs grabbed my hand and we headed over to the red velvet couch.

      "Nice couch," he said.

      "All of the couches are velvet."

      "In a wide assortment of colors."

      "My favorite is the orange velvet couch on the other side of the bar."

      "I see it. You really can't miss it though. It's so—bright."

      "It glows in the dark."

      We sat there for a while just people-watching. I didn't notice Lahrs staring at me.

      "What's on your mind?" Lahrs asked.

      "What do you mean?"

      "You just look, I don't know, sad, I guess."

      "I do?"

      "Not on the outside. On the inside. I can see it in your eyes."

      "I'm dealing with a lot right now."

      "Like?"

      "Like I just met you in a bar and maybe I don't want to talk about it."

      "When you're ready to talk about it, you can let me know."

      "Okay, I will."

      "Promise?"

      "You really want to know?"

      "I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to know."

      "My dad died."

      "When?"

      "A week ago."

      "That's one tough road to walk."

      "You're telling me."

      "What happened?"

      "It was an accident. He got hit by a sanitation truck."

      "Was he the guy who got hit sitting at the Buckstar's Coffee Shop?"

      "Yeah."

      "I read about that in the paper. I always thought there was something weird about that place."

      "Buckstar's is evil."

      "It could be. I've never liked it. It's almost like a cult. I don't think there's place you can go in the whole country without seeing a Buckstar's Coffee shop. They're even opening them up inside bookstores. Would you like non-fat vanilla iced caffe' latte with that bestseller you're buying?"

      "I think they have a plot to take over the world. They are methodically trying to capture the masses with their caffeinated beverages."

      "I do believe we're on to something."

      Haley bounced over to our couch and sat down next to me.

      "What's up?" I asked her.

      "See that guy over there on the dance floor? He's wearing black pants and a black button down shirt."

      "Who


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