Ted controls the flow of the universe, but you shouldn't call him god. He's really more like middle management. He was told the company needed a strong self starter who was not afraid to make mistake in a critical impact area. Being unemployed for eight months has a way of making a man ready for any kind of job and willing to apply anywhere.
He put on his best brown corduroy pants and the brown sports coat his father passed down to him when it became "unusually snug for a normal man." The light blue striped shirt he wore on his first and last date with Lisa with the little curry spots under his right arm pit that won't be visible as long as he keeps the coat on throughout the interview.
After only five minutes in the waiting room of IUT, Ted knew he was going to have to make a decision. After watching the AC repairman walk out shaking his head in defeat, Ted was sure this was going to be another disappointment in a long line of failed job searches. He was called into a well lit room that increased the temperature to a level he could bear no more. The rest of the interview was spent trying to ignore the fact that the large pools of sweat under his arms even after removing the jacket was re-hydrating the curry and the stains began to smell of Desi Palace.
When asked for an example of an experience in which he showed keen decision making in the face of disaster, Ted's first instinct was to lie, but he could only think of the date that caused the stains. He explained how he had been on a date in the very shirt he was wearing and had reached across the table to feed his date trying to be romantic with a piece of naan and ended up sliding his armpit through his chicken tikka. Instead of panicking, he had instantly torn of a piece of naan and dipped his armpit to taste the sauce and went on to complain about the state of the interior design world in which a restaurant would stoop to using customer's clothing as dishes.
Lisa had laughed and the night had ended as well as he could have hoped. He explained that he had considered it his lucky shirt from then on despite the irreversible damage the turmeric had laid on the shirt. He didn't feel the need to explain how Lisa never called him again and he not been able to find her again after that night.
He waited in the stifling heat of the lights while one interviewer left and was replaced by a strangely familiar looking man. A grey haired man with a small mole in the center of his lip smiled and asked Ted how long he had been unemployed. Ted felt oddly drawn to be honest with the man and explained his move to the new city and his inability to find a new job with his mix of experiences.
The man looked at him seemingly through him and asked why he had not gone on to describe how his relationship with the girl from his date story was going. Ted admitted to the first date being the only date and how he felt saddened by the loss of a chance at what he thought could have been something really good. He stated unasked that he had not been on another date since that moment three months back, but he had not missed an opportunity when if presented itself again.
Another smile and Ted was asked if that was why he decided to go without the jacket when he realized the repairman would not be able to allow him to cover the stains. A light flashed in his mind and Ted now saw the new interviewer shaking his head in defeat and pictured the generic HVAC hat he had been wearing earlier as the fake repairman.
Ted willingness to go on regardless of the certain embarrassment the shirt should have caused him and his ability to turn that negative into a positive in his interview got him hired on the spot. The training was rough and quite vague. He was given test scenarios on a computer to simulate where he would lead a situation as if he were writing the script of a life.
He spent his first day causing embarrassing erections in Poughkeepsie, NY, to a young man in public situation followed by leading him to medical text books to understand what was happening to him and onto a possible future in medicine through his new found curiosity. He spent the third day letting a young girl in Stamford, CT grab a frayed vacuum cleaner cord and nearly electrocuting her before seeing her turn to her science teacher for long discussion on the science behind electricity. After two weeks of various events in the near NY metropolitan are, Ted began to tire of the vagueness of his tasks and snuck into his boss's office while his boss was in a board meeting.
He found the file cabinets bear and the computer to be a hollow shell. Only a mild hum from behind the closet door could be found in the office. Ted opened it as his boss walked in screaming for him to keep the door shut, but the blue flash of light cut through Ted like an arrow and out through the open office door before disappearing into the stairwell. Ted found himself in front of the firing squad made of the board of directors and his boss before being assigned to find the escaped thing or find a new job.
Accustomed to two weeks of employment and the paycheck he hoped to receive in the mail when he returned home that evening, Ted searched the stairwell before finding the charred blue husk like a snake skin in the shape of a tiny man. He was eerily reminded of thing one and thing two from the Dr Suess book The Cat in the Hat, but shook it off as he brought the shell to his boss. He was still terminated after much wailing and screaming by his boss about destroying to flow of the world and the oncoming apocalypse. Some people can be so dramatic, Ted thought on his way home before stopping at the library to jump online.
After an hour of searching for descriptions of the creature shell he had found, Ted reached to turn of the monitor and a spark from his finger tip rebooted the system and loaded up the program from the job he no longer had. Having no appetite for the actual tasks, he switched to shut down when he saw the log of activity for that afternoon had his name on it. The user BlueManintheRoom had logged on around the time Ted was sneaking into the office and a log showed Ted's boss was forcibly delayed from reaching the office earlier and preventing the escape. Ted jammed his finger into the power button and jogged quickly to the exit to get home.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Erasure
I awoke with a splitting headache. I had not known a headache could feel like it was splitting your skull in half before. At least, I don't think I knew that. I can't remember much of anything right now. All I know is that I've messed up some kid's chalk drawing of an airplane by landing face first on the sidewalk. Looking at the buildings around me gives me no sense of recognition. Either I was placed here or I was out for a walk someplace I've not been before. I place my hand to my forehead and feel the beginning of a solid bruise and the seeping of bloody scrapes from hitting the sidewalk.
The sensation coming from my head as I place my hand on my face helps me to pinpoint where the real point of pain is centered. Feeling behind my right ear, I feel a piece of metal protruding from deep within my skull. Gripping it tightly, I tug it quickly out and the world spins as I slam down to the pavement again. It takes a minute for my senses to return and I move my body into a seated position. I play with the metal rod in my hand for a few seconds before my sight returns enough to confirm it is a nail.
A few sidewalk squares behind where I am currently seated, I can see a stack of lumber and a partially finished staircase in front of a three story brick building. The sign welcomes me to the new development and invites me to stop on by and check out this reasonably priced four bedroom three and a half bath duplex down. It appears that the penthouse unit is already spoken for, so I am not invited up there.
Back on my feet, I peer around the staircase, but I do not see anyone working there, so I start walking towards the nearest corner to get a point of reference. A few more steps and I find myself down on one knee getting light headed from the hole left by the nail. With no medical supplies to help me, I jam my right thumb over the hole and feel a little better. I'm now slightly nauseous, but there's no guarantee that I wasn't already that way and distracted by the fainting spell.
I look upward and find myself staring at two green metal street names that could be on the moon for all I know. Wellington and Barry. Do I know these streets? Would they mean anything to me if I hadn't been mistaken for a 2x4 while someone played with a nail gun? Then, it struck me. Who am I? Thinking as if I should feel confident in who I think I am at this moment, I feel that who I am is a person that would not go wandering the streets without a wallet.
Reaching down with my left hand, I begin patting down my pockets. As luck would have it, I'm right handed and my wallet is in my right rear pocket. I forget for a moment what my right hand is doing and the world swims in its fish bowl for a moment as I let go and pull the wallet from my pocket. It's a bit thick. I should really clean this thing out when I get the chance. Luckily for me, I didn't clean it earlier. In side the bi-fold brown leather wallet, I find a pictures insert with some people I don't recognize. Three couples smile at the camera, two in wedding dresses and tuxedos, but none stand out as anyone I would know.
Flipping past the pictures I see the Illinois driver's license and pry it from the mesh canvas. The picture looks like one of the couples in the photo. Digging backwards, I find the picture of the couple with the strapless wedding gown standing near a marble pillar smiling so happily. Is this me? A dark brown mop of hair lays across my skull and somewhat larger front teeth. It all seems familiar, but I can't be sure until I walk to a van parked near the corner and twist the side mirror outwards to see my face. The hair is similar albeit a bit windblown and the face behind the blood looks to be the same shape. A smile shows the larger front teeth and I decide that I must be the man in the picture and on the ID. My name is, looking downward at the ID in hand, Joshua Gardner. I am five feet eight inches tall and I am an organ donor. Good for me. More importantly, I have an address and cash in the wallet.
At the corner I look in each direction and find some cars coming my way down what appears to be Wellington. The fourth car I see is a cab and the top light is on. Somewhere in my brain, I remember that means it is available for hire. Excited for my first memory that helps me, I flag down the driver and hop in despite his hesitant expression. I tell him I fell and I just need to go home to get cleaned up. As he asks where to go, I give him 1620 North Burling and throw a $20 up front so I can sit back and continue to hold my consciousness in my right hand.
The sensation coming from my head as I place my hand on my face helps me to pinpoint where the real point of pain is centered. Feeling behind my right ear, I feel a piece of metal protruding from deep within my skull. Gripping it tightly, I tug it quickly out and the world spins as I slam down to the pavement again. It takes a minute for my senses to return and I move my body into a seated position. I play with the metal rod in my hand for a few seconds before my sight returns enough to confirm it is a nail.
A few sidewalk squares behind where I am currently seated, I can see a stack of lumber and a partially finished staircase in front of a three story brick building. The sign welcomes me to the new development and invites me to stop on by and check out this reasonably priced four bedroom three and a half bath duplex down. It appears that the penthouse unit is already spoken for, so I am not invited up there.
Back on my feet, I peer around the staircase, but I do not see anyone working there, so I start walking towards the nearest corner to get a point of reference. A few more steps and I find myself down on one knee getting light headed from the hole left by the nail. With no medical supplies to help me, I jam my right thumb over the hole and feel a little better. I'm now slightly nauseous, but there's no guarantee that I wasn't already that way and distracted by the fainting spell.
I look upward and find myself staring at two green metal street names that could be on the moon for all I know. Wellington and Barry. Do I know these streets? Would they mean anything to me if I hadn't been mistaken for a 2x4 while someone played with a nail gun? Then, it struck me. Who am I? Thinking as if I should feel confident in who I think I am at this moment, I feel that who I am is a person that would not go wandering the streets without a wallet.
Reaching down with my left hand, I begin patting down my pockets. As luck would have it, I'm right handed and my wallet is in my right rear pocket. I forget for a moment what my right hand is doing and the world swims in its fish bowl for a moment as I let go and pull the wallet from my pocket. It's a bit thick. I should really clean this thing out when I get the chance. Luckily for me, I didn't clean it earlier. In side the bi-fold brown leather wallet, I find a pictures insert with some people I don't recognize. Three couples smile at the camera, two in wedding dresses and tuxedos, but none stand out as anyone I would know.
Flipping past the pictures I see the Illinois driver's license and pry it from the mesh canvas. The picture looks like one of the couples in the photo. Digging backwards, I find the picture of the couple with the strapless wedding gown standing near a marble pillar smiling so happily. Is this me? A dark brown mop of hair lays across my skull and somewhat larger front teeth. It all seems familiar, but I can't be sure until I walk to a van parked near the corner and twist the side mirror outwards to see my face. The hair is similar albeit a bit windblown and the face behind the blood looks to be the same shape. A smile shows the larger front teeth and I decide that I must be the man in the picture and on the ID. My name is, looking downward at the ID in hand, Joshua Gardner. I am five feet eight inches tall and I am an organ donor. Good for me. More importantly, I have an address and cash in the wallet.
At the corner I look in each direction and find some cars coming my way down what appears to be Wellington. The fourth car I see is a cab and the top light is on. Somewhere in my brain, I remember that means it is available for hire. Excited for my first memory that helps me, I flag down the driver and hop in despite his hesitant expression. I tell him I fell and I just need to go home to get cleaned up. As he asks where to go, I give him 1620 North Burling and throw a $20 up front so I can sit back and continue to hold my consciousness in my right hand.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Unreliable Third
Sam sits at a table in the coffee shop by himself. He pulls the designer sunglasses from his face as he sips his latte and savors it noticeably. The table next to him stops drinking and stares at Sam trying to place him. The couple look at each other and his wife's eyes seems to light up like she's got it. Sam smirks to himself. He always did enjoy being recognized by the public. It's the perk of being famous for highly regarded films. She leans over and taps him on the shoulder. Sam pretends he didn't see her already.
"Yes?" Sam acts perfectly like the surprised celebrity expecting he can go out in public without being seen.
"You're Sam Taylor, aren't you?" She blinks her eyes batting her eyelashes. She's flirting with him in front of her boyfriend two seconds into speaking to him for the first time. He loves his life, but plays the surprised and reluctant star.
"I am, actually. Fan or foe?" He raises his eyebrow playfully and she giggles a bit too much. She's definitely flirting with him.
"Fan. I'm a big fan." She blushes and turns away. The man at her table rolls his eyes a bit.
"How about you, sir? Do you share your lovely girlfriend's views on my work?" His compliment to the pretty girl is twisted to seem like it's really to the boyfriend. Look at you, Sam seems to say. You've got an attractive girlfriend. That must mean you've got something going for you.
The line lands perfectly and the man's eyes come back into focus as he smiles beside himself at Sam. "I enjoy your films. I may like you for different reasons than most women do. Fire Fire and Doom was pretty good."
Always one to expand on someone's compliment for him, Sam explains his feelings about the film in mixed metaphors stopping short of making the couple drift off into thought. He changes subjects to focus on them enjoying being engaged with fans. "Do you two have any big plans tonight? A nice date planned?"
"We were actually just discussing where to go for dinner. It's our 3 month dating anniversary and we can't agree on a place for a nice meal that we'll both enjoy." Sam jumps in with a suggestion.
"Have you considered Pasta Palace? The place with the ads for 'Eat like and Emperor, pay like a pauper.' It's quite excellent, if I do say so myself which I am doing. Saying so myself." Sam gives her the award winning smile and she blushes again. The boyfriend is not so sure.
"I'm not sure. I wanted to take her someplace nice and the prices there don't make me think of fancy restaurant." Sam nods as if agreeing with him, but continues on with his point.
"I can see where you might think that, but it's quite nice. I've been there many times myself. There's an authentic feel to the interior and you feel like you are in another country. The aromas are quite appetizing and you'll find yourself trying to order an appetizer before you get to your table. I've taken to asking for a calamari appetizer whenever I come in so it can be ready by the time I get to my seat and order a drink." The boyfriend still appears skeptical, so Sam continues. "What kind of food do you enjoy?"
The boyfriend stammers a bit seemingly surprised by the celebrity's interest in his preferences. "I tend to like a bit spicier meals and she likes more savory items like a nice French meal."
"well that's easy enough. I've gone in many directions depending on my taste at the time. I've had the Spicy Carbonara dish which I think you'll find quite satisfying to your spice preferences. I've also had the Chicken Marsala which takes savory to new levels with the tomato base and slow cooked flavor. If that's not enough, the tiramisu is phenomenal. Probably the best I've had anywhere and who doesn't like tiramisu."
The couple makes eye contact and seems to agree that it sounds like a place they would both enjoy. "That actually does sound really good. Would you care to join us there?" The raised eyebrows show Sam that he is in danger of making an enemy of the boyfriend and recovers quickly.
"No, I don't want to intrude on an anniversary meal between two people so in love as you two." The boyfriend seems to have taken the comment at face value as big goofy grin crosses his face and he takes the woman's hand. Together they wave from the door and walk away. As if to an invisible stranger over his right shoulder, he smiles and delivers the 'Eat like an emperor, pay like a pauper.'
"Cut!" A man rushes to Sam and clapping his hands enthusiastically. The camera crew begins pulling the cameras back and adjusting lighting.
"Great, Sam. We got that perfectly in one take. The Pasta Palace wanted to make sure I mentioned to you that they are excited about your work with their ad project and want to offer you a lifetime pass for free food for you and three others to any Pasta Palace in the country. That's very nice of them." The director smiled as if he were the one giving Sam the gift. Sam smiles back at him.
"No thanks." He tries to drop his smile at the same time as the director, but he wonders if he's left his smile up too long.
"Why would you pass on a gift like that?" The wrinkle in the director's forehead reminded Sam that he needs to get more botox next week.
"I don't eat that shit." Sam turned to his personal assistant and signals for him to come to him. "Can you freshen this up? The irish cream is running out and I'm actually able to taste the crap they serve here."
"Yes?" Sam acts perfectly like the surprised celebrity expecting he can go out in public without being seen.
"You're Sam Taylor, aren't you?" She blinks her eyes batting her eyelashes. She's flirting with him in front of her boyfriend two seconds into speaking to him for the first time. He loves his life, but plays the surprised and reluctant star.
"I am, actually. Fan or foe?" He raises his eyebrow playfully and she giggles a bit too much. She's definitely flirting with him.
"Fan. I'm a big fan." She blushes and turns away. The man at her table rolls his eyes a bit.
"How about you, sir? Do you share your lovely girlfriend's views on my work?" His compliment to the pretty girl is twisted to seem like it's really to the boyfriend. Look at you, Sam seems to say. You've got an attractive girlfriend. That must mean you've got something going for you.
The line lands perfectly and the man's eyes come back into focus as he smiles beside himself at Sam. "I enjoy your films. I may like you for different reasons than most women do. Fire Fire and Doom was pretty good."
Always one to expand on someone's compliment for him, Sam explains his feelings about the film in mixed metaphors stopping short of making the couple drift off into thought. He changes subjects to focus on them enjoying being engaged with fans. "Do you two have any big plans tonight? A nice date planned?"
"We were actually just discussing where to go for dinner. It's our 3 month dating anniversary and we can't agree on a place for a nice meal that we'll both enjoy." Sam jumps in with a suggestion.
"Have you considered Pasta Palace? The place with the ads for 'Eat like and Emperor, pay like a pauper.' It's quite excellent, if I do say so myself which I am doing. Saying so myself." Sam gives her the award winning smile and she blushes again. The boyfriend is not so sure.
"I'm not sure. I wanted to take her someplace nice and the prices there don't make me think of fancy restaurant." Sam nods as if agreeing with him, but continues on with his point.
"I can see where you might think that, but it's quite nice. I've been there many times myself. There's an authentic feel to the interior and you feel like you are in another country. The aromas are quite appetizing and you'll find yourself trying to order an appetizer before you get to your table. I've taken to asking for a calamari appetizer whenever I come in so it can be ready by the time I get to my seat and order a drink." The boyfriend still appears skeptical, so Sam continues. "What kind of food do you enjoy?"
The boyfriend stammers a bit seemingly surprised by the celebrity's interest in his preferences. "I tend to like a bit spicier meals and she likes more savory items like a nice French meal."
"well that's easy enough. I've gone in many directions depending on my taste at the time. I've had the Spicy Carbonara dish which I think you'll find quite satisfying to your spice preferences. I've also had the Chicken Marsala which takes savory to new levels with the tomato base and slow cooked flavor. If that's not enough, the tiramisu is phenomenal. Probably the best I've had anywhere and who doesn't like tiramisu."
The couple makes eye contact and seems to agree that it sounds like a place they would both enjoy. "That actually does sound really good. Would you care to join us there?" The raised eyebrows show Sam that he is in danger of making an enemy of the boyfriend and recovers quickly.
"No, I don't want to intrude on an anniversary meal between two people so in love as you two." The boyfriend seems to have taken the comment at face value as big goofy grin crosses his face and he takes the woman's hand. Together they wave from the door and walk away. As if to an invisible stranger over his right shoulder, he smiles and delivers the 'Eat like an emperor, pay like a pauper.'
"Cut!" A man rushes to Sam and clapping his hands enthusiastically. The camera crew begins pulling the cameras back and adjusting lighting.
"Great, Sam. We got that perfectly in one take. The Pasta Palace wanted to make sure I mentioned to you that they are excited about your work with their ad project and want to offer you a lifetime pass for free food for you and three others to any Pasta Palace in the country. That's very nice of them." The director smiled as if he were the one giving Sam the gift. Sam smiles back at him.
"No thanks." He tries to drop his smile at the same time as the director, but he wonders if he's left his smile up too long.
"Why would you pass on a gift like that?" The wrinkle in the director's forehead reminded Sam that he needs to get more botox next week.
"I don't eat that shit." Sam turned to his personal assistant and signals for him to come to him. "Can you freshen this up? The irish cream is running out and I'm actually able to taste the crap they serve here."
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Imperative
Pull the sheet tight against the vulnerable exposed flesh of your neck. Try not to cut off the circulation of air beneath the covers or the circulation in your neck. Blink your eyes quickly until the spots form a fade causing the night to unravel and reveal the secrets in the dark beyond the haze of night. Remember to breathe deeply in through your nose and back out through your nose. Ignore the squeaking noise coming from deep in your right nostril as it will eventually pass.
Forget the way your boss praised you to the head of the company this morning and then ripped you apart in the afternoon meeting for something trivial. Try to make the image of you tightening his tie tighter and tighter until he starts to sweat the spray on hair down his temples drift away. Watch as the image of light bulb shaped head dim as it burns out in your mind. See it begin to glow again and turn into a soft, fiery sunset. Watch the beach form and the waves come in from nothingness. Hear the birds in the palm trees as you rock gently in a hammock. Realize nothing in the world can affect you here. Know that your job and your bosses are thousands of miles away here.
Feel the wind as it picks up and rocks you faster. Feel the sudden jar of your hammock as it seemingly hits nothing. Note the quiet of the waves and the absence of the birds as the hammock begins to rock normally again. Hear the waves begin to crash again and the birds return to their rhythmic chirping. Feel the jolt of your hammock stop again. Awake to your spouse mumbling to stop making that damn squeaking noise with your noise or sleep somewhere else. Realize the hammock stopped as the elbow made contact with your ribs.
Rub your side to try to avoid the bruising as you move to a seated position on the bed. Strike out with your arms as you stand on unsteady legs in the dark. Rub the tip of your kneecap from the railing you forgot was next to the hallway door. Hobble to the bathroom and reach for a tissue and the light switch. Blink away the temporary blindness from the dramatic light change. Try again to bring the tissue to your nose and blink away the sensation of your finger striking blindly into your eye. Feel the cold of the water as you wash your hands and watch as the site of your hair after three hours of sleep reminds you of a troll doll. Spend five minutes attempting a mohawk in the mirror. Spend five more wiping up the drops of water from the counter and mirror.
Welcome the darkness as you flip the light switch off and walk down the hall towards the bedroom. Draw in a deep breath and fight the urge to swear loudly as you strike the same railing with your other knee. Place your hands out to feel for the bed. Rub your nose after reaching the wrong side of the bed and receiving the business end of your spouse's wayward swatting hand. Make your was around the bed to your side and lie down beneath the sheets.
Pull the sheet tight against the vulnerable exposed flesh of your neck. Try not to cut off the circulation of air beneath the covers or the circulation in your neck. Blink your eyes quickly until the spots form a fade causing the night to unravel and reveal the secrets in the dark beyond the haze of night. Remember to breathe deeply in through your nose and back out through your nose. Ignore the squeaking noise returning to your nostril as it will eventually pass.
Forget the way your boss praised you to the head of the company this morning and then ripped you apart in the afternoon meeting for something trivial. Try to make the image of you tightening his tie tighter and tighter until he starts to sweat the spray on hair down his temples drift away. Watch as the image of light bulb shaped head dim as it burns out in your mind. See it begin to glow again and turn into a soft, fiery sunset. Watch the beach form and the waves come in from nothingness. Hear the birds in the palm trees as you rock gently in a hammock. Realize nothing in the world can affect you here. Know that your job and your bosses are thousands of miles away here.
Feel the wind as it picks up and rocks you faster. Feel the sudden jar of your hammock as it seemingly hits nothing. Note the quiet of the waves and the absence of the birds as the hammock begins to rock normally again. Hear the waves begin to crash again and the birds return to their rhythmic chirping. Feel the jolt of your hammock stop again. Awake to your spouse mumbling to stop making that damn squeaking noise with your noise or sleep somewhere else. Realize the hammock stopped as the elbow made contact with your ribs.
Rub your side to try to avoid the bruising as you move to a seated position on the bed. Strike out with your arms as you stand on unsteady legs in the dark. Rub the tip of your kneecap from the railing you forgot was next to the hallway door. Hobble to the bathroom and reach for a tissue and the light switch. Blink away the temporary blindness from the dramatic light change. Try again to bring the tissue to your nose and blink away the sensation of your finger striking blindly into your eye. Feel the cold of the water as you wash your hands and watch as the site of your hair after three hours of sleep reminds you of a troll doll. Spend five minutes attempting a mohawk in the mirror. Spend five more wiping up the drops of water from the counter and mirror.
Welcome the darkness as you flip the light switch off and walk down the hall towards the bedroom. Draw in a deep breath and fight the urge to swear loudly as you strike the same railing with your other knee. Place your hands out to feel for the bed. Rub your nose after reaching the wrong side of the bed and receiving the business end of your spouse's wayward swatting hand. Make your was around the bed to your side and lie down beneath the sheets.
Pull the sheet tight against the vulnerable exposed flesh of your neck. Try not to cut off the circulation of air beneath the covers or the circulation in your neck. Blink your eyes quickly until the spots form a fade causing the night to unravel and reveal the secrets in the dark beyond the haze of night. Remember to breathe deeply in through your nose and back out through your nose. Ignore the squeaking noise returning to your nostril as it will eventually pass.
Monday, August 4, 2008
The Reluctant I
I nearly lost a foot, but settled for two toes. The old pier on 2nd street used to employee hundreds of local workers. The men would come down in the morning looking for work if there was more to move than the standard crew could handle and, at very least, gather up a breakfast sandwich with sausage, cheese, and eggs scrambled up with some green chiles and a piping hot cup of coffee from Sam's Steam Shack. Sam's was popular within Darby, but not enough for Sam to be able to update the restaurant to more than a run down diner on the edge of town.
Sam moved into Darby from Trenton about five years back and bought the old Mellow Times diner that had opened up in the mid-60s only to close when the drug running in the back rooms wasn't able to make up for what the lousy cuisine already failed to bring into the business. It had sat closed for 33 years only to have its front doors opened on occasion by the police coming to chase out the teenagers using the run down spot's cushy boothes for a hook up spot. Around the late 90s, the decrepit conditions became more than even the most deranged couple was interested in chancing.
With a grant from the town council and $40,000 of his own money, Sam had managed to renew the old site enough to bring the customers back in droves that no hit of acid in the back freezer had ever been able to do. Once Sam brought the customer's in, they kept coming back and brought friends. The key to Sam's food was the affordable prices. He was not deluded enough to think he made $7 worth of lunch specials and stuck with the $4-$5 range for 3 years.
Over the past 3 months, however, Sam had started bringing in carpenters and architects to renovate the place brought on by a desire to legitimize his culinary skills. With the new faces came rising prices as fuel for running his kitchen became more expensive with the rising cost of oil. The increase in price drove some frequent customers away as many lived on a budget from day to day and couldn't put up extra money one day for a meal when it meant skipping a meal the next day. The oil prices also cut the number of shipments coming in and leaving through the local docks costing many their means for paying for these meals.
Before long, Sam was no longer able to keep his current staff and pay them with the lack of return customers. The contractors and carpenters stopped showing up to quote prices when they found Sam's taste for their pricing no longer as favorable. A few days later, Sam's place was closed unexpectedly as a load of lumber appeared out back. A day after that, a set of preformed roof arches were found next to the lumber stack. Within a week, a large contingent of workers laid off from the local docks were found to be lingering around the back of Sam's place building walls and floors before erecting a new roof over the rear of Sam's diner. The smell of Sam's famous chicken tortilla soup began to linger in the air again though the restaurant stayed closed to those coming to the front entrance.
Local families began to grumble over the mystery of the closed down but still cooking diner and police were called over the suspicion of the diner becoming another drug hovel returned from the grave of the 1960s. Officer Reynolds was patrolling one night after numerous calls and found a suspicious light coming from the inside of the diner after 3am. The back of the diner had been converted by now into an enclosed shell of a large banquet hall that many believe held nothing but an open room and drug dealers.
The officer rapped loudly on the front door, but was not heard over the loud music coming from the back room. Radioing back to the station the situation, he snuck towards the back before smelling an odd smoke he instantly connected with the suspected drug rumors. The radio was louder now and barely disguised the sound of loud shots. Quickly looking to looked into the window identifying a suspect from the corner of his eyes with a large automatic weapon. With the element of surprise on his side, the officer rushed into the room gun blazing sending out one shot before holding fire.
Inside the large room was a fine tiled floor and the makings of a real authentic banquet room. Sam had made a deal with some local workers that he would supply them with enough food to feed their families to help make up for the loss of dock work if they helped him assemble an addition to his diner for renting for parties. Sam stood stunned as he held the smoldering bark of hickory he was using to smoke a large pork roast for the morning workers. The officer glanced across the room to where he had fired and found the automatic weapon had been a nail gun being used to hang the faux log cabin wall covers. The bullet had splintered the wood of the siding and taken an unlucky ricochet into the sneaker holding the panel level. It was lucky the panel did not get nailed down before the shot or the weight of the boarding hitting damaged toes on my right foot would have meant a kind gesture to a local business resulted in long term disability.
Sam moved into Darby from Trenton about five years back and bought the old Mellow Times diner that had opened up in the mid-60s only to close when the drug running in the back rooms wasn't able to make up for what the lousy cuisine already failed to bring into the business. It had sat closed for 33 years only to have its front doors opened on occasion by the police coming to chase out the teenagers using the run down spot's cushy boothes for a hook up spot. Around the late 90s, the decrepit conditions became more than even the most deranged couple was interested in chancing.
With a grant from the town council and $40,000 of his own money, Sam had managed to renew the old site enough to bring the customers back in droves that no hit of acid in the back freezer had ever been able to do. Once Sam brought the customer's in, they kept coming back and brought friends. The key to Sam's food was the affordable prices. He was not deluded enough to think he made $7 worth of lunch specials and stuck with the $4-$5 range for 3 years.
Over the past 3 months, however, Sam had started bringing in carpenters and architects to renovate the place brought on by a desire to legitimize his culinary skills. With the new faces came rising prices as fuel for running his kitchen became more expensive with the rising cost of oil. The increase in price drove some frequent customers away as many lived on a budget from day to day and couldn't put up extra money one day for a meal when it meant skipping a meal the next day. The oil prices also cut the number of shipments coming in and leaving through the local docks costing many their means for paying for these meals.
Before long, Sam was no longer able to keep his current staff and pay them with the lack of return customers. The contractors and carpenters stopped showing up to quote prices when they found Sam's taste for their pricing no longer as favorable. A few days later, Sam's place was closed unexpectedly as a load of lumber appeared out back. A day after that, a set of preformed roof arches were found next to the lumber stack. Within a week, a large contingent of workers laid off from the local docks were found to be lingering around the back of Sam's place building walls and floors before erecting a new roof over the rear of Sam's diner. The smell of Sam's famous chicken tortilla soup began to linger in the air again though the restaurant stayed closed to those coming to the front entrance.
Local families began to grumble over the mystery of the closed down but still cooking diner and police were called over the suspicion of the diner becoming another drug hovel returned from the grave of the 1960s. Officer Reynolds was patrolling one night after numerous calls and found a suspicious light coming from the inside of the diner after 3am. The back of the diner had been converted by now into an enclosed shell of a large banquet hall that many believe held nothing but an open room and drug dealers.
The officer rapped loudly on the front door, but was not heard over the loud music coming from the back room. Radioing back to the station the situation, he snuck towards the back before smelling an odd smoke he instantly connected with the suspected drug rumors. The radio was louder now and barely disguised the sound of loud shots. Quickly looking to looked into the window identifying a suspect from the corner of his eyes with a large automatic weapon. With the element of surprise on his side, the officer rushed into the room gun blazing sending out one shot before holding fire.
Inside the large room was a fine tiled floor and the makings of a real authentic banquet room. Sam had made a deal with some local workers that he would supply them with enough food to feed their families to help make up for the loss of dock work if they helped him assemble an addition to his diner for renting for parties. Sam stood stunned as he held the smoldering bark of hickory he was using to smoke a large pork roast for the morning workers. The officer glanced across the room to where he had fired and found the automatic weapon had been a nail gun being used to hang the faux log cabin wall covers. The bullet had splintered the wood of the siding and taken an unlucky ricochet into the sneaker holding the panel level. It was lucky the panel did not get nailed down before the shot or the weight of the boarding hitting damaged toes on my right foot would have meant a kind gesture to a local business resulted in long term disability.
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