Jose and Jorge Need a Good Home

After 9/11, I was laid off from my cushy event planning job. Apparently people were not in the mood to pay hundreds of thousands of dollars for parties. Who'd believe?

I ended up doing a hundred different jobs (while surreptitiously collecting unemployment checks) -- one of which was traveling around the country to different malls and installing (the now-defunct) Biotherm Skin Care Counters in Macy's. I was in a group the organizers called, "The Mountain Men." Kevin, main organizer, thought I'd feel comfortable with them, seeing as how I was from Georgia. There was Tommy, DooDah, and Michael -- all from the mountains in North Georgia, then the oddball Xanax addict, Joe from Queens, and me. Yes. DooDah -- the RedNeck Santa Claus. He was about 60, looked like he was about 80 (due to Santa beard and chain smoking), and always spoke of himself in third person. One one particular morning I was driving the 24' Budget truck (with lift gate) back to our hotel from the mall with DooDah in the passenger seat. The shocks were crap, so the truck bounced like crazy when you were traveling under 45 MPH. At one point he looks at me and says, "If this keeps up, DooDah's gonna need a rubber."

Well, one week, the MM and I were working in Laredo, TX and we had a day off. So, we did what any group of construction workers would do that close to the border. We went to Mexico for margaritas.

This is where I first met Jose and Jorge. I was shopping around the market area, trying not to step on the small children selling crappy bracelets for "one Peso please," and I saw them. My little devils. I fell immediately in love, and though I planned to only buy one, I couldn't decide between them. That's how Jose and Jorge came into the family.

Jose and Jorge became the Mountain Men mascots. They traveled with us everywhere and they gave me much comfort in a time in my life that was pretty dark. I mean, 4 nights a week, the MM and I would work from 9 PM until 8AM in a deserted Macy's. I was exhausted. I didn't have one intelligent conversation for over three months. DooDah and Michael refused to eat anywhere besides IHOP. It was miserable. Jose and Jorge saved me.

Now, Erica and I are moving and we're making compromises on what items we're taking with us and what items we're getting rid of.

She says Jose and Jorge have to go. I considered telling her that I'd rather she go, but Jose and Jorge aren't in a position to help with the mortgage, so I'm stuck.

People. I can't put them out on the street. Surely someone would find them and love them, but I can't risk it. What if a dog comes by and thinks they're toys -- or fire hydrants? What if the wind blows and they end up in the Hudson River? I'm having a hard enough time trying to come up with a way to tell them that they're not moving with us (and they are so excited about the new place) -- how can I be expected to add insult to injury by just dropping them on the front stoop?

So. I'm coming to you, dear readers. Who out there has room in their home, and heart, for two devilish characters from Nuevo Laredo, Mexico? They don't make messes, they're well-traveled, they don't smell, and they are very good listeners.