Pet Names

A Mattie Loves Ryan story

A Tribute to The Cecil And Sally radio show

By Kathleen Vincenz

Copyright 2023 Kathleen Vincenz

(SOUND OF THE DOOR CLOSING, EXPRESSO MACHINES, OTHER COFFEE SHOP-RELATED THINGS. PEOPLE TALKING.)

“Here we are again, Ryan, at Starbright Coffee. You must be wealthy.”

“I must be crazy to bring you again, Mattie.”

“I am surprised because you do wrongly blame me for Subi Sue’s arrest. And I do know I’m innocent.”

“Innocent? You got Subi Sue towed because you didn’t notice the orange stumby thing was a fire hydrant.”

“I always thought they were painted red. I did.”

“Red shmed.”

“And my dad paid you back. He said, here give this money to that numskull Ryan.” 

“I should have my head examined for coming here again with you.”

“But I’m so excited. You’re so sweet. I’m going to order something I’ve never had.”

“Now, cut that mush out. Get your head off my shoulder.”

“Oh, Ryan. How strong you are. I remember in middle school how stringy your arms were.”

“Mattie, I’m going to get out of line and get in Subi Sue and take you to American Burgers.”

“No, no, I’ll be good. Let me study the menu board. C-h-a-i tea. Is that a dirty word, Ryan?”

“One … two …”

“I wonder if I should use Cassandra for my name again this time. You know I never did learn to spell Cassandra. C-a-s-n—”

“Just stick with plain Mattie. I like Mattie.”

“Do you, Ryan? You never told me how you feel about me. I knew you lo—.”

“Now cut that out. I’m talking about your name. It’s a good name—a good name for anybody—I didn’t mean because it belonged to you.”

“You know, Ryan. We need pet names. People like us, couples, always have pet names.”

“We’re not a couple. We’re two people at Starbright’s getting coffee.”

“Yes, but you’re paying for it so that makes us a couple. In old movies, the moment the stars of the movie got engaged, they called each other Darling. Darling Ryan, will you buy me a Carmel Machicamheetoe?”

“A what? And I’m not your Darling.”

“But I’m yours! And, I mean the coffee on the menu board—Carmel Machicamheetoe, darling.”

“You gonzo—that’ll be my pet name for you. Gonzo Mattie. The Gonzo who doesn’t know that’s a Caramel Malaheetoo.”

“Oh, that’s why Mr. Starbright didn’t know what I was ordering when I was here on Monday with Jordon.”

“You were here on Monday with Jordon? Jordon, that pretzel. Does that mean there’s nothing on the menu that you haven’t tried?”

“See, when you get that upset about me going to Starbright’s with Jordon, it shows we need pet names. Oh, look he’s over there. Hi, Jordon. Wave to him, Ryan, my little sugar pea, Ryan.”

“Don’t call me Sugar pea. Why I ought to walk out of here, you cheater. You can get Jordon to buy you a coffee, you, you, Jezebel. Try to spell that for Mr. Starbright.”

“How dare you? Accuse me of that, Ryan. I was here with the Pencilburg Players and Jordon is one of the leads. Why, you, you … Moses … you … Goliath. What are you accusing me of you, you, … Brutus. And I’m not speaking to you again.”

“They really stings, Mattie, you not talking to me and your names for me. I bet you don’t even know who Brutus was.”

“I do too. He’s in the Bible. The Book of … the Book of Brutus. And, I’d tell you more about him, if I was speaking to you. Brutus, you the sore loser.”

“Ah, Mattie, come on, we were both kidding. I knew you were here with the Pretzel Players. I didn’t mean it. I’ll buy you a coffee, your Carmel Machicamheetoe.”

“Excuse me. Hello. It’s your turn. What will you two have?”

“Mattie, don’t turn away. It’s our time to order. Mattie, talk to Mr. Starbright. Please … Sweet pea.”

“I will only because I want a coffee and not to please you. Hello, Mr. Starbright, we meet again. I’ll have a Carmel Machicamheetoe.”

“What did you say? We don’t have anything called Carmel Machicamheetoe. Can you give me a real order? I’ve got lots of customers.”

“Oh, Ryan, I mean, Brutus. He’s not giving me my Carmel Machicamheetoe.”

“I’ll take care it. She wants a Caramel Malaheetoo.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what you mean either.”

“A lot of help you were, Brutus. Mr. Starbright. On the menu. There. M-a-c-c-h-i-a-t-o.””

“Oh, a Carmel Macchiato. Why didn’t you say so?”

“Well, I did and you failed to understand, and my friend, this person next to me, this Brutus, will have a Sore-loser latte. I’m sure that is on the menu.”

“I won’t either. I’ll have what she had.”

“What’s the name on the order?”

“Brutus. Do you know how to spell that? B-R-U-T-U-S.”

“Mattie, you can’t put that name on our order. If you do, you’re picking it up.”

“No, Mr. Brutus. I’m not. You are.”

(SEVERAL MINUTES LATER.)

“Brutus! Order for Brutus!”

“Come on, Mattie. You ordered that. I called you sweet pea. I’ll call you it again. Pretty please sweet pea, pick up our order?”

“Well, Brutus, if you don’t go get the order, you’ll lose your precious money. Now how much were two Carmel Machicamheetoes?”

“Ah, Mattie, sometimes. I’ll get the order. Get out of my way, Jordon.”

“Nice to meet you, Brutus! Mattie, you should go out with a Jordon, not a Brutus.”

“Give me your, arm, Brutus. I much prefer a Brutus. Let’s get our Caramel Machicamheetoes, Brutus.”