At last Thor had a date. An actual date. It was about time. The other gods all had marriages. So why not Thor?. Even Loki. He had three, no less. And they all knew how marital bliss had straightened the heavenly bad boy out. No more mischievousness. All he needed was a good woman. Oh, sure he played a practical joke from time to time. They were a little harmless fun. Even though he had been behind the skunk that stunk up the great Hall of Valhalla. The stink had been so bad the gods couldn’t gather there for a month.
The Asgardian deities urged Thor to at least date. After all, they thought he would be a good catch. Any single goddess or demi-goddess would be lucky to have him. He had a regular job. He wasn’t so bad on the looks department. He was a real hunk. The only drawback was that he didn’t have a lot upstairs. It wasn’t that he was downright dumb. He wasn’t. He was just a little slow on the uptake. Any girl would be lucky to have him.
There was just one thing. It was that hammer. He just wouldn’t let go of the darn thing. Not even to go to the toilet. It would be like a third wheel tagging along on a date.
So what did Jackie Lynn Tremahorn, of the Florida Tremahorns, see in the big lug? Not much. She really wasn’t interested. She wasn’t interested in dating anybody. But her mother insisted she go out and meet someone. Anyone. Find a nice boy, date a while, get engaged, then married and have the three point four kids that make up the American average. It was the patriotic thing to do. So reluctantly one Saturday night she went to a speed dating event held at the local American Legion Hall.
Now being a Southern girl—we know that because she had three names. Most Southerners have three names for a very practical reason. When we hear our mamas call out our three names, we know she is truly peeved at us. We are in deep doo-doo. Being a Southern belle of a girl, with very traditional values, Jackie Lynn was not interesting in meeting a prospective at a speed dating function. It just wasn’t done. She gave deep thought to feigning the vahpors, but her good friend Pippa Jean would have none of it. “You just gotta go, sweetheart,” she said. “It just won’t do for you to end up an old maid, Jackie Lynn. It just want do.”
Part of Jackie Lynn’s problem was her name. She was named after Jacqueline Kennedy. No matter how much of the old college try she gave it, she was not up to living up to the Jackie Kennedy image. Besides there was no JFK around to sweep her off her feet and off to Camelot and Hyannis Port. There were only Dick Nixons and their five o’clock shadows everywhere her blue eyes looked.
So there she, reluctantly, sat at a small table in the Legion Hall, auditioning candidates for a future Mr. Jackie Lynn, not daring to hope. And none were up to the task. She took one good look at each Nixon. His shifty eyes immediately told her everything she needed to know. She was not up to the guy’s two left feet stepping on her toes on the dance floor.
Just as she was about to give up, Thor sat down in front of her. She first noticed the eyes. He did have nice eyes. She wasn’t sure, but there was enough man there to make her open to some convincing. Put him in a nice suit, give his red hair a cut, trim his red beard some, and he just might do. ‘Course that hammer had to go. You’d think he was married to the darn thing the way he held it up close and personal-like. They could get a dog instead. She always did want a poodle.
“I usually don’t offer,” the words tumbled out of him. “Would you like to feel my hammer?”
Jackie Lynn blushed. “Why, sir, don’t be so forward. A Southern girl just does not feel a man’s hammer. At least, not upon the first meeting.”
“Don’t worry. He doesn’t bite. He’s a perfect gentleman. Just thought you might want to touch him. He’s special. He’s been places. Done things. Mighty things.”
“But, sir, you are being forward. If I wasn’t a lady, I would…well, let’s just say, I would.”
“It’s okay. I’m a god.”
God, what an ego. But it did look like he had the qualities Dorothy Parker wanted in a man when she said, “He must be handsome, ruthless, and stupid.” Could it be? Yes, something spoke to her heart. In a moment of indecision, she decided. It was love at first sight.
The gods, the goddesses from Asgard to Olympus let out a sigh of relief. Finally Thor was going to take the plunge. Before they could shout out Vahalla, the happy couple eloped and were off on their honeymoon to the mystic isle of the west, Avalon, to live happily ever after. At least, until she started complaining about that hammer.