Icky Dick Strikes Again

If you've never heard the tale of Icky Dick, you've missed out.

A true story....
Carly slipped the sheet music into her choir folder. "Six baptisms in one day!" she thought. "They weren't kidding that Catholics have kids in bunches." Although she had converted she never felt completely like a "real" catholic when she looked at the devout women she sat with each Sunday.

She peeked over railing behind the organ. Down below at the front of the church Father was handing out lighted candles to the parents of the newly baptised. Other members in the choir were shuffling their own music or exchanging whispered bits of conversation. The advantage to being up in the choir loft in the rear of the church was that they could sing but not be seen.

Hazel, who usually stood at Carly's left, was leaning against the organ, trying to whisper something to Stan, the choir director. "Who would expect a choir director and organist to be SO hard of hearing?" Carly mused to herself. "It's a good thing Betty is here to keep him on track." Betty had been with the choir for over thirty years, and Carly was very fond of her because of her quick wit and helpful nature.

Carly's eye wandered over to the right wall. There were two framed photos hung there, group shots of the choir in days past. Photos were of special interest to Carly, especially vintage photos. Since Diana wasn't present that day, Carly finally had a clear path and she shuffled slightly to her right to check the photos out.

She was enjoying a mental game of "who's who", spotting Stan and one or two current members, looking for Betty, when she heard a voice much too close to her ear for her liking.

"I had hair then" Icky Dick remarked with a self satisfied smirk. Carly cringed in horror. Noooo! She had drawn the most despised member of the choir over to her side. Bald as the day is long, and generally unpleasant no matter how you sized him up. Chronically late. Quick to argue about nothing, and a crummy singer to boot.
She glanced furtively around. Hazel was still trying to convey something to Stan. Crap!

"Uh, yeah, well, it's got 1979 written on the corner. That's almost 25 years ago" she offered lamely. She didn't have the heart to be outright mean to the man, who clearly didn't have a lot of friends. After all, she was in CHURCH. Brotherly love - ugh.

She looked over her other shoulder. Larry met her glance, but he was a kind old man who wouldn't catch on to her complete dismay. "No help there," she thought.

Icky was still talking. Stating the obvious as usual, he was making a remark about how some of the people in the photo had moved, and some were "no longer with us (annoying chuckle)". Man, this guy was a freak. She could sense a trace of "I didn't brush my teeth yet today" on his breath and tried to put some distance between herself and the source. But she was hemmed in by folding chairs, the wall, and HIM. She smiled blandly at him, trying at the same time not to meet his gaze. Her eyes were aimed in the general direction of his collar. Tan/ beige shirt, and pants just a shade darker. "Don't look, don't look, don't look" she thought. "Just want I don't want, is an image of that man au naturel."

He was still talking! She had a flash of inspiration and picked up her music again. Shuffle, flip. Find one piece, set it down in an imaginary pile. Polite nod. Shuffle again, find another. Nod.

It worked... as the members of the choir began to stir and line up again for the next song, Dick slithered back to his own corner.
Phew!

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Well, tonight Dicky showed up 25 minutes late (for our usual weekly 2-hour rehearsal) and I swear to you, he sat down and the first thing he did was check his watch. I wanted to shout out loud "IT DOESN'T WORK!!!"