Sick Ribs and All That Jazz by Lorraine Caramanna

“All I know is this: Jack and Mary ate pork ribs at Joe’s Dine Out, and they both woke up sick. They told Joe, and he said, ’My pork ribs are good as gold. No way my ribs made you sick!!!’ And … Sue was sick, too. She said it was the sloe gin fizz, but she also ate Joe’s pork ribs.”

“Oh, Ann, you do talk too much. Poor Joe. Don’t say his ribs made them sick.”

“But, I read a post on the Dine Out’s web page that said Tom and Lou ate ribs at Joe’s last eve, Joan. Sick as dogs, they were.”

“Holy Moly! Two more sick? I do hope it’s not Joe’s ribs. The ribs at the Dine Out are sooo good. I love them!”

“Joe’s post said no way his ribs made them sick. But, who can say?”

“Well, not you, Ann. You don’t know for sure.”

“It was a post, Joan. I read it. Then, I saw Mike at the gas pump. He told me he ate Joe’s ribs with a few mugs of ice cold beer. He felt sick as soon as he was done. Too much beer? Or bad ribs at Joe’s Dine Out?”

“Or a bad mix of sloe gin fizz from a kiss on Sue’s lips? Beer and sloe gin don’t mix!

“Hmmm, who has too much to say now, Joan? How do you know Mike took a kiss from Sue?”

“Sue sent me a text with a pic of her and Mike. He sat next to her, too next to her – if you know what I mean.”

“Wow – do you care?”

“No way! She can have him and his ice cold beer.”

Ding – “This text from Lucy says she and Jim have been sick all day. They ate ribs and corn on the cob at Joe’s. She asks if I know who else is sick.”

“Don’t tell, Ann. Don’t be a busy body. Joe’s part of our gang. He’s a good man. It’s hard work to run the Dine Out, and we want him to do well.”

Type, Type, Type – send.

“Oh, Ann!”

Ding – “Here is more in this text … Cora, Ella, and Rose ate Joe’s pork ribs and some home made pie.”

“Ugh, don’t tell me – they got sick.”

“They sure did – sick all day. Had to miss book club.”

“Well, that is no loss. Book club – ha! They don’t even read a book. They just sip wine!”

“Why don’t we join that book club, Joan? It must be a good time.”

“I read, Ann. I don’t just sip wine.”

“Oh, too bad – I bet it’s fun.” Ding – “A text from June here – ‘ Do you know how many mai tais I had at Joe’s? Haha more than two! And I ate ribs, corn on the cob and bean soup. I have been so sick all day!’” Type, Type, Type – send. “Too bad for June. One mai tai is more than she … “

“Stop it, Ann, just stop all this talk and text. Poor Joe. He must be so on edge with sick ribs and all that jazz!”

“Wait – now I have a text from Joe. ‘Come on down to Joe’s Dine Out from four to six – all the ribs you can eat with corn on the cob, bean soup, and home made pie. Free mai tai or sloe gin fizz for each lady!’ Wow – what a deal!!! Grab your car keys, Joan – let’s go – no, wait, call an Uber – car keys and mai tais don’t mix.”

“What? Ann, have you lost your mind? All this talk about sick ribs – what if we get sick from the ribs?”

“What if you get to Mike before Sue does?”

“Let’s go!”