Snoopy's tree and your own personal bodyguard

I had the double shock today of finding out two people I knew, have passed away:  one a friend I used to be very close to, Sylvia; and one a woman I worked with, Louise.  And that's one of the reasons I have this blog, you see:  to share stories about loved ones <3

Now, w/ Sylvia, umm - some I don't want to put on the Intrawebs, because other parties involved may still be alive ;-  BUT - I can tell you the story of her first job!  It's Sylvia's Charlie Brown's Christmas tree, story:

Everyone advised Sylvia -who was about 15 at that time or so - NOT to work for this guy who had a Christmas tree lot - because he would pay you as cheap as possible, promising some incredible amount of something like $150 on Christmas Eve IF you sold every last tree.  A person would say, oh I can do that - and then - uh-oh.

And then came Sylvia, who literally had the personality of being able to sell sand to Arabs!

On Christmas Eve the owner came back and was quite chagrined the lot was cleared-out, and looking for an excuse not to pay her -a-ha!  You missed one!  That straggly thing leaning against the fence!

Sylvia picked it up, walked out in traffic, on the divider line, reciting the story of Charlie Brown's Christmas Tree at the top of her lungs -interjected with "don't you want your kids to have Charlie Brown's tree this year!".  A guy beeped, said "yeah, lady!", handed her five bucks, she handed him the tree.  The owner was forced to pay her,too - he never wanted to hire her back again ;)

Ah, Louise ... I worked with Louise in the housing inspection dept of a major city.  Louise was a lady - she never smoked outdoors, for example, and she always had Chanel suits and high heels, with perfect hair, the whole 9 yards.  When her husband died, very young, his political connections got her this job.  Seeing how she was a lady, the boss always assigned her the best neighborhoods ....

Charlie was a big ol' Irishman who was sweet on her.  It was literally like watching a 50-something year old puppy dog.  Louise was clear:  she valued his friendship, but it couldn't be more than that - her children wouldn't approve and even more so, she couldn't get remarried, she'd lose her husband's pension. And she couldn't so much as kiss anyone she wasn't married to, you know, because she was a Lady.  Charlie just smiled and followed her around, anyway ....

So we had something like a flu go through the office ... half the inspectors out.  Louise said to the boss she'd take the slack.  OH NO, roared Charlie - dem's are crack houses!  Too dangerous for a Lady!  Louise said she would be fine.  Charlie insisted he was going along as her bodyguard.  Well, it made sense to everyone else - Louise was a Lady, maybe five foot two, and Charlie was this Irish toughie over six feet tall!

A couple of hours into the morning, we that are staff are startled to see -CHARLIE IS BEING CARRIED IN?! with Louise walking behind him?!  What happened!  Get that man some coffee!  Charlie was not unconscious, tho, and he was adamant Louise was not to tell any of us what happened!

Louise patted him and told us anyway...

Louise walked into an active crack house.  "Listen, I'm here to inspect the building, bud," she said.  Okay, lady, sure - and they left HER alone - but pulled a gun on Charlie!  Charlie started shaking, tossed his wallet, begged for his life, and then -um - fainted.  Louise took off her high heel, knocked the gun out of the guy's hand, knocked the guy out, and then dragged Charlie by the jacket out of there, whistled for a cab, and had the cab driver lift Charlie in the back!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Poor Charlie - his love was undaunted, but he never, EVER lived that down!!!