Uncle Charlie and his magic Jeannie Card

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
A short somewhat true story about the day my Uncle Charlie discovered what his Jeannie card was for.

Submitted: June 26, 2011

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Submitted: June 26, 2011

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My uncle Charlie was a colorful character to say the least.  He was a hillbilly who loved his beer. When you think of him, you think of a fella with a shanty on a hillside, complete with an outhouse.
  For those of you that dont know what an outhouse is, I ll try to explain it the best way I can.  Its a crapper.  A little building built out back thats used as a crapper.  Plain and simple.  Well, maybe not that simple.  You see, using one of these things is usually a battle between man and beast...beast being anything from a mesquito, to bees, snakes, racoons, possums or any other critter that found a crapper the ideal place to shack up.
  I have tons of stories about my uncle Charlie that always brings a grin to my face.  A few that makes me shake and scratch my head and alot that flat out makes me laugh till the tear stream.
 Me and a buddy of mine named Randy worked for Charlie one summer.  Ok..maybe work is a loose word.  He would hire us to do some work off and on when he was remodeling his house. Stuff like packing lumber, drinking a beer, pack some concrete, drink another beer..etc, etc and so on.  He was a firm believer in NOT working his help to hard without a reward.
  It was one of those dark, rainy, foggy miserable sticky summer afternoons when we couldn't, wouldn't and down right didn't feel like working.  Truck was out of gas, lumber was wet, we were broke and NO beer.  NOT good.
  My uncle had a ritual when he was broke.  First he'd fish around in his pockets to make sure he didnt miss a waddled dollar bill or some loose change.  Then..hed take his hat off and rub his bald head.  Yep..bald as a babies butt.  Next, hed look in the glove box of his truck.  When that failed he'd holler in and ask my aunt if she had any of her underwear money.  The underwear thing my friends is a WHOLE other story.  Anyway, this was always answered with a stern "NO" from her, followed by a few choice words that usually meant that even if she did have any..he wasnt getting it for beer.  
  After he would exhaust all his rituals, he had one final one.  He'd take his wallet out and rummage thru all the content.  As he put it.."every so often, I ll stash a 5 for emergencies"  This classified as one of those emergencies.
  We we watching him rifle thru his stuff when he came upon one of those credit card looking things, only it wasnt one.  It was a "Jeannie" card.  No folks, you gotta remember, this mans a hillbilly.  The only thing that would ring a bell with him if you mentioned the name "Jeannie" would be that gal on TV with the belly button.
  My buddy Randy asked him what that was.  He simply said that it was some "damn" card his dingy wife gave him and had no clue what it was for.  It was right about there that me and Randy looked at each other.  You know the look..like.."YOU GOT TO BE KIDDING"
  Finally I ask him if he had any idea how much money he had in the bank.  Charlie just rubbed his head and said he had a couple thousand dollars in there, but Marge, his wife had the checks hid and told the bank not to let him draw any out.  Its right about here when he takes his hat off and rubs his bald head in disgust.  He rubbed his head for various reasons, disgust being one of them  Again, he still has no clue about the "Jeannie" card.
  I asked him if he had a PIN number with it.  He said he didnt know, but thought Marge wrote something down that had something to do with it and stuck it in his wallet.  He's totally blank still what this card was and what it meant.
  We finally broke down and told him he could get money out of a machine with that card.  Well folks, this was like telling a cave man that man now flies to the moon.  We got that blank look that Im sure was followed by cricket chirps.  He couldnt fathom the thought till we explained how it worked.  When it hit him what it actually was, he was like a born again child.  Of course, a secret pact was followed that we would under no circumstance tell Marge about out little discovery.  *It had been a year or so back when she gave him the card and completely forgot he had it*
  "Cmon boys..were headed to town".  I mean to tell you people that ole 69 Buick was spinning tires, throwing mud and gravel and making  mailboxs sway as we went past.  We were three hillbillies on a mission.  He still had his reservations, but he had hope that we werent pulling a bag over his head.  The plans we had as we drove along.  Tbone steak, baked taters and salad and...beer, all the beer we wanted if this worked.
  Naturally, he gave me the card and sent me to the task at hand.  Problem being, at that time, you could only draw out 200 dollars at a time at the same location.  So, I got the 200 and came back to the car.  First thing out of his mouth was.."did ya get it"  "Yep..got it right here"  SOunded almost shady, which it was if Marge caught on.
  Needless to say, this went on for a week.  Marge couldnt figure out how we was staying ripped with no money.  Of course with her suspicious nature, she finally called the bank and found out our secret.  Rest assured folks...we lived the high life for a week.  But..all good things must come to an end.  We went to draw money out and found she had taken the card.  Poor ole Charlie just about cried.
  A thought occured to him later that day.  Marge would every so often write him a check for a six pack.  As he looked at me with a pondering look, hes says..."Jamie" thats what he called me.."Jamie..them checks are always cold when shes gives me them to me" he said as he took his hat off and rubbed his bald head.  

 

 
 

 


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