Sorry, your browser is not supported
To have the best experience using Skillshare, we recommend that you use one of these supported browsers.

The Biscuit

Three Story Ideas:

  • The Great Umbrella Fiasco: My two best girlfriends and I were in serious moods, getting ready to take our last round of midterms before the home stretch our senior year of college. We had met in midtown to study at a Starbucks away from campus and distractions. We were practicing being Responsible Adults. It had been a moderately blustery day, but when we stepped out onto Madison Ave, the weather was completely fine. Half a block later, and quite out of nowhere, the wind and rain had kicked up something awful. We all pulled out our umbrellas... which is when it really came apart. Christine's umbrella flipped inside out. But she's rational, and any New Yorker worth their salt knows you just turn the rogue accessory back into the wind and let it right itself. Except instead of popping right-side out again, hers swung around and clobbered Maxine, whose umbrella got caught in the wind and whipped around at Christine before popping inside out itself (and showering us all with rain). Then mine went, pulling me toward the road with a sudden jerk before flipping inside out. The three of us stood there, struggling with our umbrellas, looking around to see how other passersby were faring... And don't you know, we were the only three lunatics on the street having ANY trouble with their umbrellas. We couldn't help it-- we laughed hysterically. I'm sure everyone else thought we were completely insane-- not entirely untrue. We pulled ourselves together as best we could, but dissolved back into giggles on the train several times before we made it home safely. Just goes to show-- you can't take life too seriously.
  • Engaged: The morning my now-husband proposed to me was rainy and miserable. I had to go into work to sign for a late delivery of merchandise and afterward he wanted to revisit the darkroom at college where we met... allllll the way downtown. I didn't want to go. I was combative and miserable and fussy all morning. I even snapped at him when he tried to initiate what would ultimately be his marriage proposal. Needless to say I snapped out of my bad mood when he hit one knee and asked me if I wanted to be his wife. Instead of replying, "Yes!" I gawked at him and asked, "Are you SURE?!" Not an unfair question after my deplorable behavior that morning. Of course, I accepted. 
  • The Biscuit: February is my least favorite month because, even though it's the shortest, it's the l o n g e s t. The days are short and the nights drag out forever. There's almost no daylight, and the pretty crisp snow of December and January just heaves a sigh of defeat and half-melts into salty, muddy slush that kicks up onto everything. February is dark and chilling and damp, and it always makes me sad. To top it off, this past February I finally had had it with my husband's horrible cat, and put my foot down. "I want a puppy," I told him, in my this-really-isn't-a-negotiation voice. He had never had a dog, so he was, of course, leery. But I explained that there was something missing from the house that the cats -- especially his horrible monster feline -- didn't resolve for me, and I wanted a puppy. "I don't know," he said. "Fine..." I said, raising an eyebrow. "Then I think it's time for a baby." The next day, we started doing puppy research. I found a shelter that rescued puppies from the deep south (puppymill puppies that needed loving homes) and checked their website to see what litters they had at their facility. We wanted something fluffy and cute, something with a sweet temperment and not too many health problems. We didn't want a labrador or a golden retriever... something smaller, with lower grooming and exercise requirements. I begged my husband to visit the shelter that night, even though I wasn't sure they had a puppy that met our criteria (in fact I was pretty sure they didn't). "We won't get a puppy tonight," I promised. "We'll just learn more about the process." Then we went to the shelter and there was Biscuit. She sat in the middle of the kennel and just cocked her head to the side and her littermates rushed forward to howl and jump at the gate. She looked up at us, her labrador puppy face slick and black, her droopy little eyes blinked once: "What took you two so long to come get me?" I asked if I could meet her, the only little puppy sitting back from the gate, and the shelter tech nodded. I walked into the kennel and Biscuit lowered her head, unsure about me. I patted my leg and called her to me and when she stood to obey, I saw that she had a long, slender body and stubby little legs. "She's part Basset," the tech told me, and I scooped her up. She snuggled her little dog nose under my chin and nuzzled in, then let out a little puppy sign of contentment. "I like her," I said, trying not to sound too eager, lest my husband remind me of the promise I made him. I poked at her ears, squeezed her paws, set her on the ground and felt to make sure she didn't have lumps. I checked her teeth and she planted a small lick on my cheek. She was such a sweet little lady. I scooped her back up again and James leaned in to get a better look at her face. She leaned in at just the right moment and pressed her nose to his nose. I watched as my Big Bad Husband melted on the spot. "She's our dog," he sighed. "This is our puppy... I'll go do the paperwork." Two days later Biscuit came home with us for good, and our lives have been so much the richer for it. 

Verdict: The Biscuit story is the winner. It's a little overly sentimental in language, but the time we spent getting to know her in the shelter was a big moment of emotional growth for both my husband and myself. There's a lot of heart in how she melted both of us, and there was enough entertainment (and sarcasm) in the decision-to-get-a-puppy process that it makes a cleaner, better story arc. Plus, puppies are cuter than crazy umbrellas. 

Comments

Please sign in or sign up to comment.