Nobody in town was really surprised when Mayor Goodman presented a custom Cadillac to his consort, Cloudy Dimmitt. We all knew she’d earned it. In fact, if he was really going to present her with a ride equal to her efforts, he should have bought her a new Lamborghini. But of course that was never going to happen. The mayor is as cheap as he is corrupt.
He swung by Manny’s Motor Mart at lunch one day and paid cash for the 1968 Cadillac Coupe DeVille near the back of the lot. “No sales tax,” he told Manny. “This is a municipal purchase.” This not being Manny’s first rodeo, he’d already built the sales tax into the price and corrected the paperwork to reflect such. The days of him willing to do jail time for the mayor’s missteps were long gone.
When he bought it, the Cadillac was a clean low mileage car that had been owned by Mrs. Dimplemoore. Her husband had bought the car new. It had barely been driven since he died, staying mostly in the garage covered up in old quilts and boxes of Tupperware with no lids, appliances that hadn’t worked in years, and stacks of Stockton Telegram-Dispatches that Mrs. Dimplemoore swore she was going to go through one day.
When she died, Mrs. Dimplemoore’s heirs practically gave the car to Manny to help quickly settle the estate. Manny had toyed with the idea of selling it on Bring a Trailer, as clean and low mileage as it was. He had even given thought to keeping it as a driver he could enjoy on the weekends, maybe taking it up to the Grounds for Divorce now and again for the Folgers & Fenders Lucinda puts on when she’s in the mood.
But then the mayor saw it and thought it would be the perfect car to buy cheap and have customized, then give to Cloudy to make him look like a big shot. Manny made a good little bundle on it, while still giving the mayor the deal he expected. And Cloudy got to show off the “new” Caddy the mayor gave her. It was a win/win/win. Sort of.
Cloudy was an attractive young woman who’d been taken advantage of by men most of her adult life. To get a Cadillac out of it, even a 50-year-old one, was a victory. She’d been dancing over at the Scuttlebutt Gentlemen’s Club for years, the last several as a more or less ‘kept woman’ by the mayor. She liked to joke with the other girls at the club, “You know what the difference is between a hooker, and a girlfriend, and a wife?” When they said they didn’t, she’d tell them, “A hooker says ‘Are you done yet?’, A girlfriend says, ‘You’re done already?’, and a wife says, ‘Beige. We should definitely paint the ceiling beige.’”
She made no pretense as to what the mayor was. They each got exactly what they were looking for and what they deserved out of the relationship. She got rent money. He got arm candy at golf tournaments and an infection, but it was easily cleared up with medication. In an election year the last thing the mayor wanted to deal with was his relationship with Cloudy getting out. That’s where the Cadillac came in. Mayor Goodman had Manny deliver it to the Paint & Body Shop at Cactus CHEV-Olds, where he’d left instructions for a full makeover. Not completely unlike the one Cloudy had treated herself to a few years earlier.
“I want the whole thing painted ‘Cloudy Gray’. Shiny, but not metallic. Even the bumpers. I want to see nothing but clouds when I walk up to it.” The mayor was very specific.
“If we paint the bumpers you won’t be able to show it at the Folgers & Fenders over at the Grounds for Divorce. Lucinda’s rules.” The foreman of the body shop informed the mayor.
“Screw Lucinda.” the mayor replied.
“Don’t I wish,” the foreman thought, but didn’t actually say it.
“I want the interior completely reupholstered in fresh hides, dyed to match my spray tan.” The mayor was adamant. The body shop manager wasn’t sure where he’d ever find that color, but said he’d do his best.
“Based on what you’re asking for, we’re looking at about a year and fifty grand.” The body shop manager was pulling numbers out of his arse, but knew the mayor wasn’t going to accept them, anyway.
“I want it done in six weeks and once you get to $20,000, pull the plug. It’s a gift, for cryin’ out loud, not a retirement account. No point in going overboard.”
Two months later when the mayor gave it to Cloudy out back of the Scuttlebutt next to the dumpster, she cried like a baby. He thought she was overcome with emotion. But really, it was just her realizing that this is what it had all come to.
Pretty much the same feeling voters have when they go to the polls in Fort Stockton.
12 responses to “RIDING THE CLOUD”
What? No mention of the sofasexual Vice Mayor? Only question remaining is Lazy Boy or Lazy Girl? Gaetz also asked the age of the couch . . . I wonder what the Vice Mayor’s pronouns are . . .
The mayor reminds me of the principal character In Squeeze Me
Not often do photos leave me speechless. Tarting up an elegant Cadillac seems more than a shade beyond Cloudy’s body work – more like going Royal St art gallery to Bourbon St. T-shirt shop.
I’ll echo @Mr Angushopper’s spot-on comments for the ease of transporting official classified municipal documents to bathrooms of his estate, still believing he looks somehow less aged and overstuffed with spray tan and the combover, as his flunkies continue to apply excessive adoration in hopes of not becoming the next target, having been accidentally honest.
I don’t recall if I ever mentioned it before. Mom and Dad, having been raised by immigrant parents during the depression, were both quite frugal but lived the American Dream – Dad as a City Firefighter promoted to Captain, and Mom as a bookkeeper for a successful local company Their first new car had been a ’57 Plymouth Savoy, followed by a gently used ’59 Olds and a new ’67 Pontiac Catalina. A year after retiring to a Seniors village in central NJ, their 92 year old newsboy passed on. His 2 year old 1972 gold Cadillac Sedan deVille was always garaged and covered, appearing better than new with less than 2,500 miles on the clock. It was meant to follow my parents! The magnificent Caddy’s elegance was maintained through their move to the Fort Lauderdale area and aged gracefully until Mom’s unfortunate incident with a utility pole, after which the Caddy was succeeded by 1986, 1992, and 1995 Mercury Grand Marquis, the last of which I still maintain.
While there’s room for everyone in the hobby, IMO, tarting up an elegant old auto is even more abhorrent than seeing the same on a Bourbon Street broad – at least she has some awareness of what she’s doing.
“Courtesan”, Ms. Dimmitt. It sounds much more elegant.
‘Elegant’ is not a word normally associated with Cloudy. She says “thank you”.
(Through an intermediary, of course. I’ve never actually talked to her. I swear.)
This story and the people involved seem very vaguely familiar, but it’s probably just my imagination.
Capitán, I’m thinking, be that as it may, that perhaps an ancillary reason the Mayor “invested” in this vehicle is that the gargantuan trunk made it more efficient to transport large payloads of official classified municipal documents from city hall to various bathrooms at the Goodman estate. The name of the place escapes me right now but it’s “Mal A Propos” or something like that.
You must admit that sometimes the Mayor isn’t as dumb as he looks.
But on the other hand, with his wild combover, spray tan and shiny flammable-looking suits, perhaps I’m mistaken.
The assumption that Hizhonor could not be as dumb as he looks vastly understates the facts as they are repeatedly displayed in every appearance in Fort Stockton, every interview on KFSX, and every time he shows up in court over at the Pecos County Courthouse.
Even Cloudy has been known to tell friends, “He couldn’t organize a pissing contest in a brewery.” And she’s a close friend, Cadillac notwithstanding.
Cappy,
Please, a heads up for thise days when an NSFW image appears in the photo array. Thanks.
That way I can go right to the photose before reading the story.
I always appreciate a man whose priorities are well defined. Keep up the good work.
I always go to the pictures first. I thought everyone did.
Good Lord. I feel like I’m writing for PLAYBOY.
I kind of like it.