The Story of Stevie and the Death of "For"
A story in several parts

There wasn't really a nip in the air, yet, but the 5'-3" woman crossing Central Park could already tell that the cold wind, which always cut through her, was near. Stevie, with an "ie", always enjoyed the bright autumn leaves blowing across her Central Park West path but the late autumn weather was not her favorite. She could retreat to her hired car but that just didn't sound like something a New Yorker should do, at least until it, well, got to be "cold."

The perky little thing that she is Stevie had fallen into the same trap that many have fallen into. She continued to enjoy globe trotting in that special life that none of us "regular folks" will ever have. Her many trips abroad left her tired and her eyes showed the wear as she bounced from here to there around the world. Mostly she enjoyed doing what she did, report, talk and be "perky" but it was getting harder.

Stevie is a perfectionist but has those little things that the playground bully picks up on. "The Donald" and his hair, Mr. Gorbachev and his red birth mark or Mr. Reagan's bobble of the head when he tried to make a sarcastic remark. Stevie, however, fell into that group of Americans that have become less attentive. Those that don't pay close enough attention to the tiny little things that seemingly don't matter yet say quite a bit about who they are. For a perfectionist, this is just one trap those non perfectionists notice just to knock a person down a peg but, in any case, Stevie had fallen into it and was about to pay for it in a large way..

Americans, you see, are a hard working bunch of people and Stevie is no exception. If one were to look at countries around the world you would find that more hours and less vacation time happens in the United States than elsewhere around the world. Yet, it appears that we as Americans, generally, are lazy in many linguistic ways.

Stevie followed many of these themes in her conversations but it was the smaller ones that got her into trouble. It isn't as if she really knew that she was using “fur” instead of “for,” but yet it just came out as a matter of course.

That morning, when the wind was showing the future of a nip in the air, James was already in his casually rumpled suite ready to pounce on topics he cared dearly about: politics, idiots and words. Stevie wasn't aware that her "fur/for" slips were about to end up blowing in the wind, but they were.

Approaching security, Stevie was accustom to Jason giving her the once over. She was ccustom to his lingering eyes and thoughts best reserved for the lockeroom. She may be smaller in size but her round curves, styled outfits and Melonos’ made her turn a head or two, male and female alike.

She wasn’t sure about Jason but in some way she sort of enjoyed his lingering looks first thing in the morning. Especially if he had brewed some fresh coffee and had it waiting for her as she swept buy with a “morning Jason “love the dew.” Jason was especially fond of his hair you see. To bad one could not say the same for his waistline.

Multi-tasking was always Stevies’ strong suite and if not for her lack of concentration she would be even more of a correspondent and a bit less of “America’s sweetheart.” She wasn’t sure she wanted the correspondent thing because it would lead to even more travel than she already had. The thing was, for what reason was she really doing what she was doing? Sure the money was great but why and for what reason?

With a sip of “joe” the elevator door opened to find Stevies assistant waiting with new notes about her interview with James. “ He’s all wound up this morning so you’d better be ready fur anything.” “Great”, replied Stevie. “The guy is enough of a handful when he’s on Prozac.” “Make-up’s waiting and I pulled the Wang outfit you asked for. It’s hanging in your office.”

Stevie had gone over the notes for the interview early the night before but just wanted to check again as she was made up for the interview. His new book title was People That Don’t, what a silly title Stevie thought.

Next: Stevies’ Four Minute Mile In Hell

“Janice, are these lights hotter than usual or am I having hot flashes?”

With a brush hanging from her mouth and a foundation jar in her hand Janice replied in a transplanted New York accent. Stevie always guessed South Carolina but never got around to asking because makeup was always before a finished coffee and who can think without a full morning coffee.

“Honey child, after making up the guy you’re about to talk too I hope to death they’re hot flashes. He’s going to be a pip, bless his heart.”

MMM…two for two and I’m not even near the set yet, how wonderful thought Stevie.