Dear Fred,
In my youth, I saw a pair of burgundy leather pumps in the shoe store window. I was helping to dig the Ohio-Eerie Canal at the time and noticed the physical labor had caused me to develop the most unseemly man-muscles. I wanted those pumps so I could feel like a girl again, so I could hold my head high, so I could gain the attention of Leonard Magill. He was my first love, you see?
Once a year, the community held a dance in the township hall, so I saved every penny, took in laundry and accepted that on-going offer from Bicycle Pete to…inflate his tire. Finally, I had enough; I hurried into the shoe store, bought those pumps knowing they were meant for me. The dance was only two days away, so I spent that time practicing in front of the mirror, imagining Leonard's hand about my tiny waist as we danced to a romantic tune.
I was bathed, perfumed, coiffed to perfection and wearing my beautiful new pumps as I walked to the town hall that night. I vaguely remember an Amish buggy passing just before I crossed the street, and then I opened the door and walked proudly inside. Though I lacked some inner confidence, I strode across that room to the punch table, put a cup to my lips and turned to face the crowd. 'Why,' I thought, 'Mother was right; act with confidence and everyone notices.' Then I heard them - those wall flowers, Lilly Lou, Mae-bob, Cross-eyed Hazel, Fat Fiona and several others. They were looking at me and laughing.
That's when Caroline - my biggest rival for Leonard - approached me, said with a smirk, 'Nice pumps, Belle!' and laughed. I looked down to discover I had impaled a road apple with the heel of my beautiful leather pump. Leonard never asked me to dance, even though I cleaned off the offensive mess. He married Caroline and left me bereft and broken-hearted. I have hated the Amish ever since and have made it my life's passion to put them all into a maximum security prison. WITH electricity.
Now, Fred, if you think you or your minions will intimidate me, cause me to change my writing style, you may as well forget it. I am Auntie Belle - and there is no one like me.
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