Star Struck Rubes | Satire
Goodbye Felicia
We will all miss you so
Felicia weaved, ducked, spun, and shimmied across the dance floor. People could simply not get enough of her fresh moves and artistic flair. It truly was a shame that she could only get out to the club on Fridays.
That was the only day she allowed herself some time off, what with her more-than-full-time job running three Instagram profiles. It is a shame really, because Fridays weren’t just about her, of course, her adoring fans needed to see her hip jive moves in order to liven up their otherwise mundane and ordinary lives.
Heck, Felicia wasn’t even her real name. That was Shannon. The throngs at the club had bestowed her with the “Felicia” moniker; a stage name if you will. Something befitting a star; as truly, Felicia was a star.
Why just look at the elegant grace in which she extends the boundaries of both dance itself, as well as the dance floor. Felecia often needed aisle ways, tabletops, and the occasional sashay into a booth to really put on her best moves.
They love me because I am amazing. I can’t let them down she thought as she twirled, Dougied and reminisced about the first time someone used her soon-famous stage name. “They should call you Felicia”, one stout plain-faced blonde had said a few Fridays back.
“Oh yea?” Queried Felicia, “Why is that?”
“Well, it is just because you are so fabulous, and we hate it so much when you have to go.” Said the asymmetrically headed, mop-haired bumpkin companion of the blonde plain-Jane. “We just think you deserve a name fitting your amazing reputation!”
How sweet; and how very dear the yokels were in this club. Dumb, but cute in a way. Felicia couldn’t blame them for being so star struck. But she had dancing to do and crowds to please, so she Nay Nay’ed and Flossed her way across the floor; the crowd parting to make way for her moves.
Just when Felicia had really gotten her groove going there was a sudden collision with a cocktail waitress and drinks went flying everywhere. Felicia, of course, by virtue of her good graces and awesomeness, was spared from any of the sticky, boozy splash, but the waitress was knocked to the floor and soaked.
Felicia, being the humanitarian superstar that she is sidled over to the waitress as she lay on the floor. Not to give her a hand up of course, ewww. Gross. But she did lean over and offer some helpful advice, “You should get up hun, you look chubby laying on the floor like that”.
As she was trying to get the show going again around the sloppy mess on the floor (not to mention the liquid from the drinks) one of the club managers came over to interact with Felicia. Fella must want an autograph, she mused.
Instead the manager had the audacity to suggest that it might have been Felicia’s wild dancing that sent her careening into the cocktail waitress and causing the drink explosion and knocking the waitress ass (large, in Felicia’s point of view) — over — teakettle.
This was unacceptable. This club manager might have a lot of time on his hands to complain about ridiculous stuff but singling her out when others clearly were at fault was asinine to the extreme. This guy was so old anyway, how could he even see what was going on. Maybe he should retire. Had to be at least 50.
How dare he disrupt her day like this!
The manager suggested that Felicia might entertain the idea of apologizing to the cocktail waitress. The nerve! The clumsy cow caused the whole thing; she should be apologizing to Felicia. This was so insulting!
Didn’t they know that she was so busy that she could only come to the club on Fridays? Good thing the club manager was just a peon mid-level stooge. Not a real leader. Felicia would be taking this up with the club owner for sure; you just wait and see. This manager had no right to publicly talk to Felicia. Ever!
Felicia had had enough of this nonsense and could take no more. She knew she would be disappointing her many fans, but it was time to take her leave. In fact, this had been so insulting and she had been treated at a level soooo far beneath her dignity that she told everyone right then and there that she didn’t think she would EVER come back to this stupid club.
The news didn’t seem to affect the crowd that much. Perhaps they hadn’t heard what she said? No matter, they would see and be sorry next week! As Felicia gathered her things and headed for the exit the crowd did seem to take notice.
In fact, they all turned towards her as she made her way to the door, anticipating what was to come. And, as was customary each week, Felicia waved to her admiring throng and said, “Goodbye everyone!”
The crowd seemed enthusiastic to respond and did so in unison:
“Bye Felicia!!!”
God how they loved her, thought Felicia. She was the light in their eyes and the bounce in their step.
Maybe… Just maybe, she would brighten up their lives and come back next Friday.
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Timothy Key spent over 26 years in the fire service as a firefighter/paramedic and various fire chief management roles. He firmly believes that bad managers destroy more than companies, and good managers create a passion that is contagious. Compassion, grace and gratitude drive the world; or at least they should. Follow me on Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter, and join the mail list.
