The Money Part 10

I sat there staring at the ladies in front of me. I studied their intensity and tried not to study other more shapely aspects, as this was not the time. They stood there locked in poses until Ava finally drops the bat. I let the breath out that I had held in and a shiver runs up my spine. It is not every day that I almost die; it just feels like it recently. Emily puts the chair back down and resumes her seat. She then looks at me expectantly. That is when long forgotten Jimmy speaks again, “I think it is time for the real story.”

“That’s the thing Jimmy; every story has at least two sides. Who’s to say which the ‘real’ one is?” I do the air quotes on the word real and immediately feel like an ass.

Ava growls and Emily places a calming hand on her arm. Emily looks at me for a while, "Tell us your story Ray, the one that you believe to be true."

I look at her eyes and consciously keep my gaze there. Emily has gotten under my skin and I am fighting lots of wonderful daydreams about her. Some involve running towards each other on the beach but most fall into a more scintillating category. Sometimes I hate an overactive brain and sometimes I just try to keep it firmly in the background. The problem I was facing because of these daydreams was that I started to trust her, kind of. I mean she is definitely a manipulative dangerous person but she makes me feel comfortable. So I was about to open up to her, meanwhile the tiny guiding voice in my head (the one I tend to ignore) is screaming for me to stop.

“Have you ever looked at someone and saw that all they do is survive? That there hope for something better had been squashed?” I am looking into her eyes and as far as I am concerned it is only her and I having this discussion. My tale is for her alone. I see her nod at my question and I continue. “I was mesmerized by that once. I was in Vegas, for a bachelor party, and we were walking the strip. The friends I was with were a lot more intoxicated then I was and I found myself sitting down while they stood and argued about lofty and yet stupid things. You know the type of argument that seems so profound while your inebriation is kicking in but if it was ever filmed and showed to you the next day would make you feel stupid. I sat there a few feet away from them, just waiting for them to start walking again. In fact I was half hoping their stupid and slightly offensive conversation would get them knifed so that I could continue the adventure. Instead my friends blathering had the adventure firmly on pause. I began to look around me, noticing for the first time where we sat. I was looking into a souvenir shop for Las Vegas itself and of course the wonderful Grand Canyon Experience it was attached to.  That was when I noticed the girl leaning up against a wall of the experience. She looked ready to be anywhere but there. She was a beautiful black girl with her hair too short, like maybe she tended to wear a wig. Her makeup was done but the clothes did not seem to match the look her makeup strove for.”

“Just say she was a whore, Ray,” interrupted Jimmy. His interruption breaks the spell Emily’s eyes had over me and I remember where I am and who I have standing around listening to my tale. “I mean for God’s sake were you engaged to this woman? Had she bore your only child?”

I look at him for a second. “Jimmy…… this is my story. Can you shut your mouth or do you know how this story continues?”

He waves me off and walks out muttering.

“Anyway, this girl was pretty but had a hard edge to her. I could not take my eyes off of her. It wasn’t lust, like Jimmy implied. No, it was interest. I wanted to know how she got there. What took a pretty girl and turned her so far around that she became an escort in Vegas waiting for her next trick? I am not sure how long I watched her but it was at least long enough to see her light up and smoke two cigarettes. I was lost in my head when I heard a grizzled voice from behind say “Like the view?”  I dropped the drink I had in my hand, as it was a glass from one of the casinos it shattered and the noise got my friends’ attention. I turned around and saw a massive chest. The guy I was facing was a large, stocky guy. His hands were huge and were covered in rings. The jewelry on his hands was the only pimp like thing about this guy. He really looked like a bouncer at a strip club that would throw out a handsy customer after socking him a few times on the way out. He was built like an enforcer and I immediately realized that I had been daydreaming about the girl’s life for far too long. I was unsure of what to do so I mumbled something. I can’t remember what exactly but I can’t imagine it was very manly. I am sure I sounded like a small child who stole a cookie and was busted with crumbs on his face. The giant muscle grabbed me by the back of the neck and picked me up. I was on my tippy toes mewling like a stuck cow when my friends decided to take action. Other guys materialized between us as they prattled on about kicking butts and/or calling the cops. “Let’s you and I take a walk! Tell your friends, shit is cool!” “Shit is cool!” I exclaimed in a squeaky high pitched shrill. That didn’t really calm them but the other guys in the middle of us made it hard for them to do anything about it, as my new friend and I went for a walk.”

I paused debating my next statement and noticed Ava smirking at me. I honestly believed she would have liked to see me scared and in a little bit of pain. Meanwhile Emily continued to look at me with hose imploring beguiling eyes. I waited for what seemed like an eternity but was probably 3 and a half seconds. “Can I have some water? I am really thirsty.” Ava looked at Emily and then turned and went to get the water. I decided to go for the next statement with some props. “Make it a large cup of water! Oh, and a small cup of sand as well.” Emily’s eye brow shot up at this and Ava had stopped in front of the door waiting for something. Maybe she was deciding whether to kill me or not. Before her decision was made Emily said “Please”, and Ava left. “It is always good to remember your manners Ray.” I looked at her and almost spoke but chose to wait for my props.

The Money Part 9

I have always believed that a story should start from the beginning. Whenever I read a book series I start at the beginning and I go in order. My father was less discerning and a voracious reader, he read the series in whatever order he could get his hands on. Our fundamental view of books, stories and characters that we had both read were always different. I think in the long run I got more out of the books by patiently waiting to read a story in the correct order. I have a better memory of what happened and when it happened. My timeline is intact and his is fuzzy. Of course he reads 3 times the books I do. All that being said it would make sense to tell this women my story from the beginning. Unfortunately in real life your story is kind of a mish-mash and the beginning is always somewhere in the murk of your past. As a result, I found that I was not sure how I got on the path that ended up here. The one thing I knew was that my continued silence would probably cause irritation. She seemed to be the calm one but I was not sure that meant much. My general working theory is that abnormalities work harder to get where they are. Twin sisters that appear so innocent must have done some dark stuff to get to a position of power. Havng this theory does not get me out of trouble very often. I am like the tourist who pokes a sleeping bear with a stivk to try and get an action shot and winds up half digested in his belly when the bear autopsy happens later. So what I am thinking right now is that I am in Seattle, WA; talking to someone about money I borrowed in Portland, OR. I had ran to Seattle in an attempt to give myself time to make the money back.... it had been a mistake. I manage to keep the smile an inside one.

"Ray....." Her voice was breathy and I noticed that more then my ears perked up at it. "Ray.... tell me your story. I like to hear the stories."

I finally look up and face her. I am no longer collecting my thoughts. I decide to go for broke and when going for broke you have to start with a triviality. "So why does it make total sense that the Portland underground would be run from Seattle?" I feel the confident smile spread across my face. The one I always use when I talk to the various women who have floated through my life. It always works for a while but Emily was already unfazed by it. She just sits and waits while I forge ahead. I will get that smile to light up her face again or die trying. In fact there was a possibility that both could happen today. "You know, because Seattle is always seen as the cooler, more grown up, big brother to Portland." She just watches me talk. I fidget and try again. "If I told you I bet all the money on a horse named Lucky Legs could we call it a day and set up a repayment plan?" She just continues to stare at me. "You don't mind if I smoke do you?" I ask but don't wait for an answer. "I usually start smoking whenever I think for very long. Usually clears a room." Still nothing from her. No reaction at all, not even one of irritation. Not that I had opened up with my good stuff. "You know because I was thinking and it made my brain overheat... it's a joke. Things smoke when they overheat..." My voice rises as I say this and continue to be faced with her expressionless face.

"Ray..... stop flirting before I shoot you." I blink in response, fidget a little for good measure, and then launch into my story.

"It was just a fluke originally. I was making dinner for a few friends and they were raving about it and telling me I should do it for a living. They kept telling me I was gifted and I loved the flattery. Naturally I ate it up and I felt good that I had made them something they had so thoroughly enjoyed. The idea was still percolating in my head as we drank the night away. That same idea was competing for space in my head the next day as I battled a pounding hangover while working my sales job. I no longer had to think too sale and I had plenty of time to review my options. I went home that night and I continued to daydream. Weeks went by and I was still fascinated and enthralled by the idea of having my own restaurant. I did more then daydream of course, I went online and priced different options. I also experimented with my own culinary creations. It wasn't a new idea, I had dreamed of it as a future career in my youth. I had pursued it at as a possibility in my college career but real life got in the way. Things like phones, cars, rent, and all those other bills clogged up my path and so I took a job that I hated and soon found that I was stuck. I made great money and it was scary to think of going without that security blanket. Even if it meant I was making my dream a reality."

"So why was your friends' suggestion different? Why did it get stuck in your craw? How come you didn't just keep going along in your comfortable life?" Her interest distracts me from the story momentarily.

"That's a good question.I think it was because for once I was just as taken with the dish I had made as they were. I felt like I had finally started making food that was worth charging people for. I had always felt like I hadn't really earned the right to charge people for food. I always felt I did not quite meet muster. I finally felt like I could pull things together without consulting a recipe. I had ideas of what to do with things that were a little creative and just a shade unique. I knew that what I was putting out was the equal of what I was paying for when I went out and in a lot of cases it far exceeded their example. I was more disappointed then pleased when I went out. I wanted to make it myself; to do it the right way. That idea made me obsess and it ultimately led me to buy a little trailer that I began renovating. Unfortunately, I soon ran out of money. I was never great at saving money and the money I made went out as quick as it came in. I have horrible credit thanks to my irresponsible college years and the loan companies said no when I came around with my hand out. Before I knew it my cart and my dream were dead in the water."

"What about those friends? It was their idea originally, didn't you ask them for help?"

"You know the saying about friends and money?"

"There are a few.... which do you refer too?"

"Before borrowing money from a friend, decide which you need most."

"Ah.... so you decided to borrow from a criminal instead of from friends. Smart move?"

"I didn't say I did not borrow from those friends I simply asked if you knew the saying. I borrowed from those friends but soon I was out of money and I had not even applied for the permits. The cart was ready and so was my menu. I had located a spot for rent and I was just waiting on my next paycheck to get the permits in and my first rental payment paid. That was when the first friend came to me needing the loaned money back. We had a contract, I had attempted to make this all legit, and I was not in default but they were having a crisis and needed money. I tried to explain to them where the money was and remind them that I would pay them on time. I even tried paying some money to them when my paycheck came in. They weren't satisfied, they demanded it all. So I handed over my check to them. I was in a world of hurt at that point. I no longer had money for the space or the permits. To make matters worse I soon found other people knocking on my door asking me to pay them back. It was ugly. I had exhausted all my reputable options and with calls and unannounced visits from friends starting to hurt my work life as well as my personal life I needed some sort of quick fix. I found myself at the bar trying to find a solution at the bottom of my glass. I tried 4, maybe 6 glasses before Denise came in and started yelling at me about owing money that she kept seeing me drink away. It occurs to me that she had a point. My drinking had increased since I borrowed the money. In fact I was on a first name basis with my bartender, her name is Jessie. I also had a mad crush on her and this scene made me feel...... slightly emasculated. Luckily for me it seems my bartender friend likes me enough to overlook that. She invited me over that night and..."

"I am not here to listen to your exploits Ray. They won't impress me." The smile finally lit up her face as she said this. I had achieved my earlier goal. I was not sure how but thought the word emasculate might have had something to do with it.

"Right. Anyway I began hanging out with Jessie a lot and I was paying people off the best I could with my regular job. I hadn't realized I had borrowed so much until they all were bothering me about it. One night I was cooking at Jessie's house for a get together she was having to introduce me to her friends. I was going all out and I was finally feeling calm because I was engrossed in my task. I was once again doing what I loved and it was received very well by her friends. I was not at first but that food won them over. It was at this party that I first met Oompa Loompa, I mean Jimmy." I glance in her direction nervously and the smile is still there and she nods for me to continue."Jimmy and I hit it off pretty well and we began hanging out a lot. He was an old friend of Jessie's apparently. At first we went to bars together and then it was clubs. One night while drinking around the pool he made his offer and we talked. It was days before we settled into a business partnership. Within the month I was open for business. It was not to a very big crowd but made more then I had spent on the food that first day so I was feeling good." I pause to take a breath and at the same time the door flies open to reveal Ava and Jimmy. Ava has a bat and Jimmy is not looking thrilled to have become part of my story.

"You're lying Ray!" Ava barks at me and then she swings. I close my eyes and await the thwack. It doesn't come. I open one eye to see that Emily has blocked the blow with her chair. It seems storytime is over.

The Money pt. 8

It feels like a cliché to say that all things I saw were a blur, but they really were. The drugs kept their hold on me even past the point when a burlap sack was pulled over my head to hide the Bosses location. They kept fogging my brain as two guys dragged me out of the car, across a lawn and up some stairs (I witnessed all this as I stared at my feet and tried to will my drool to stop dribbling down my chin). I didn't even fill the drop when they shoved me into the room and my face hit the floor first. The nice thing about that was the little collision with the floor sent me into darkness. When my mind refocused I was tied to a chair while a pretty blond applied some salve to my face. She was humming and I wanted to look up at her but the drugs seemed to still have a hold on me because I could not lift my head. Even more worrisome was that I seemed to still be drooling. How come I never look good around the ladies?

"Ray...." The girl with the long blond hair had a light lilting voice. "I am going to leave you now. Your drug should be wearing off in a few hours and we will be back then. I hope you can resolve this issue Ray, I'd hate for you to continue to get hurt."

I felt confused. It seemed incongruous that such a sweet voiced female would be on the side of evil. I watched her legs move towards and out the door. She was followed by two stocky looking males. I had not even realized we weren't alone. I felt my mind wander and I was soon dozing again.

I awoke some time later to a groggy ache that covered my entire body and a slight burning on my face. I was no longer tied to the chair but was lying on the ground. I noticed in front of me was a sink and a set of new clothes. I pushed myself up and felt muscles call out in protest. I then proceeded to the sink one shuffle step at a time. The sight that greeted me in the mirror was just a shade under grizzly. I had what looked like carpet burn on the left side of my face. There was a shiny substance covering it and I remembered the blond applying the salve. I took off my shirt and washed my body using a washcloth I found at the sink. I continued to move down until I was completely disrobed and stopped once I was as clean as a sink bath can make you. I looked at the mirror again and realized I needed to wash my face. I was reluctant because I would have to wash the salve off and the dried blood and I knew that would not feel good. I briefly wondered about the wisdom in wiping off the salve but then I looked over at my clothes and noticed a jar of salve sitting on a pair of clean underwear. I started with my hair and then moved to my face. I winced and stifled shouts (a man doesn't scream) as I washed the sensitive side of my face. I reapplied the salve and then got dressed. I looked in the mirror and noticed I looked a little better a lot of the face trauma had been dried up blood but I still had a decent amount of rug burn across my face. I hit a button on the wall that had a sign above it saying to call when I was awake and clean. Within moments two burly mountains came into the room and grunted at me to move.

I was brought into a room that looked like a conference room but nicer. It had nice leather bound cushy seats and a table made of a dark wood. I kept thinking of it as "rich mahogany" and I allowed myself a smile. I found some water on the table and I poured it into a glass and drank it down greedily. I was guzzling my third cup when the 2 mountains came back in and were followed by two beautiful blonds. There was no doubt in my mind that they were twins. With the exception of the eyes (one had green and the other had blue) and choice in clothes, they were identical. The same long flowing hair, the same height, the same easy smile that made me feel at ease even though my heart was racing. I set my glass down but not on the table and it hit my foot. I stifled the scre...shout that had nearly escaped my lips. I bent over to pick up the glass and then I put it on the table (I watched the glass this time). I then looked over at the door expecting more people to come in. I quickly realized that no one else was coming and I turned toward the mesmerizing twins again. One was smirking and the other was frowning. The frowning girl spoke first.

"No one else is coming. We are the people you owe money to."

"You're Oompa Loompa's bosses?" My choice of name seemed to further define each of the twins as I watched their expressions diverge. The smirk turned into a genuine smile and the frown became highlighted by fiery, angry eyes. The mirthful one spoke next.

"Yes Jimmy works for us. I find it strange that you would make fun of his coloring in a situation like this though. It hardly seems like a good idea."

"I am notorious for not thinking about things for long before I say them. It is always getting me into trouble."

"Seems this time it wasn't just your mouth that got you into trouble." The tone matched her fiery eyes. "I don't feel like we need to have this getting to know you chatter Emily."

"Hush Ava! Don't be rude. I doubt that hurrying will do much for us. I don't think Ray has our money anymore and I figure I want to know how he used it."

"Damn it Em! Who freaking cares?!" She punctuated the last shouted question by chucking a water glass at me. I managed to move but doubted from that throw that she had really wanted to hit me. I got the feeling she was pretty good with her aim.

"Ava! Leave!" Emily was pointing at the door. "You are much too keyed up to participate in this discussion. I don't want you hurting our guest!"

To my surprise Ava did as she was told. She shot me an angry glance as she did but the door closed as she exited and I was left with Emily. Oh... and the two mountain men.

"So you two are the infamous bosses?"

"Infamous? Hardly. I think the only way you know of us is if you are dumb enough not to pay back your loan on time. Most people are not dumb enough that their late payment ever leads them to a personal meeting with us. This is a first. We always get our money back. Then there is you..." Her face smiled and she still evoked images of angels in my head but I realized she was not necessarily the nice one. So tell me your story Ray. After that, Ava and I will decide what to do about you."

My mouth went dry and my words failed me. I sat there looking at her and tried to figure out where to begin.

The Money (pt. 7)

It was kind of amazing when I got to the car that I had avoided getting hit again because I was still giggling and the van man looked mad. I felt like explaining that it wasn't his ridiculous lisp that I was laughing at but that I was laughing at congratulating myself on not laughing at his completely unbelievable lisp. It occured to me that the explanation might make him angrier. When he pushed me into the car I stopped giggling. I realized that I was in an entirely different car then the one I had previously seen him in. He joined me in the car and we left the volcano behind and my manic giggling had stayed behind with it. I was almost sure the kid in the stroller we passed had possession of it as he giggled at his father's funny faces. I felt like I could no longer move my body let alone giggle nonstop.

"I thon't afpprethathe you lathing ath me! I hath owal sutherthy thith morning! Ith noth my faulth." Inside I laughed but on the outside I couldn't even blink. "Tho to avoith unnethathy anger I thoughth I thood thrug you while I ethplainth." Luckily for me as he started talking his speech either got better or my brain had learned to understand mush mouth.

"The name is Charlie. I know it sounds like a typical thuggish name but I am actually in school to be a doctor. I want to help people most of the time when I'm not doing things for the boss. Most of the time the people I come across deserve to be roughed up a little. Most of the time these people are the scum of the earth. The leaches of our society. I know it sounds like I don't actually want to help people but when I put on those scrubs my brain shifts gears. I finally have a reason to care! It might simply be vanity, the whole not wanting to fail thing, but it feels nice to care. I don't really give a damn what you did that got you in this situation. I was asked to bring you to the boss and that is what I am doing. You seem like a different sort then who usually gets dragged to the boss but what do I know. So, loser, what is your story?"

I managed to blink but I couldn't even turn from the window. He turned my face towards him.

"Damn it! I must of given you too much. I read that whole book and passed those damn test and still managed not to give the right dose! Oh well. Where was I..... oh yeah. I am becoming a doctor to help people. I.... well I'm just a good person. I deserve to get a lot of money for it. Of course a lot of the real money is now in the past. A lot of doctors, that specialize in crazy procedures, barely make six figures! Damn government needs to stay out of health care. My mom told me I should be a lawyer but, even though I love her, she was a raving moron. Lawyers are scum! I mean who wants to be a lawyer?"

My silence on the topic made him frown so he went back to talking. He seemed to really have expected an answer. Maybe my paralysis had made me miss a chance to really bond with my kidnapper.

"You see I knew the boss through his kid and I used to always be a round eating his food...."

I went on mental auto-pilot and blissfully thought about nothing as he spoke. I was granted sweet relief when a bump in the road made me slump over and when he pushed me back to a sitting position my face was turned towards the window again. The scenery and his soothing drone felt almost reassuring, all the alarming thoughts I could sense were inside me seemed to have been paralyzed by the drug too. All I knew for those 3 hours was bliss.

The Money (pt. 6)

I was on the freeway heading South again. I watched as signs foretold of an impending turn off for Mt. St Helens. A place where a mountain's dramatic and earth shattering event changed everything around it. I felt like killing Shawn had been my personal Mt. St. Helens. I felt a sudden irritation at my own thoughts for feeling guilty for ending the life of such a scumbag. Unfortunately I could not stop feeling regret and remorse for my actions no matter how justified they seemed to me at the time and even now. I was fighting for my life and like any other cornered animal I attacked, caused damage and ran away. Life is like that sometimes, you are forced to make a decision and then live with regret. Of course this was a bit more complicated then any decision I had faced before. The St. Helens turn off told me it was the next right and I found myself steering the motorcycle toward the off ramp. I drove through a town that I was not entirely sure I had caught the name of, despite the turn off signs and the town welcome sign, and kept driving. Finally I parked at The Johnson Ridge Observatory paid my... actually Shawn's 8 bucks..... and headed into learn.

After seeing the videos and reading things I was ready to stretch my legs and I headed up a mainly treeless hill to get some better views of the still smoking volcano. The devastation of that blast was still present as you looked at hills covered in trees and then you looked were you stood and at the volcano and saw very little plant life. I stood there thinking about what it might be like to have been swept up in that destructive wave and that moment of reverie was costly. I felt the jab in my back before I realized I was not surrounded by friendly looking tourists. It was that man I had seen as I left Shawn's place. The man who was in that van, the one I hoped I would never see again.

He didn't talk at all just used whatever was jabbed into my back to guide me further along the path. I tried to stay stoic and quiet too but my brain went into autopilot and I started voicing every idea I had about the volcano as we walked. I talked about everything I had learned at the visitor's center. I told him about the survivors and what I thought that must have been like to survive. I kept talking and asking questions he did not attempt to answer. It was inane chatter and I was not sure I would ever stop. That was until I said "I don't have the money. I keep telling you jackals that but you think torture and fear inspiring tactics will cause me to crap out a golden egg. It won't happen. If your bosses want the money they will have to wait like sane people. I have some money in my pocket I could offer as a first payment...." I kind of peetered out at this point, the words had dried up.

It was at this point that my captor decided I needed to face plant and he shot his foot out and gave me a quick shove to prevent me from correcting the fall. I hit hard and knew I was going to bruise. For some odd reason my reaction was to laugh. It was at this point that I was introduced to another foot. I hated my inappropriate urge to laugh in terrible circumstances. I sat there not crying out and no longer laughing as I caught my breath. He dragged me back up to a standing position  and started guiding me with his gun again. I was a little bit slower now and he finally began to talk " I thon't care tho mush. Money ith your ithue with the botheth! Now walk!" I suppressed my giggle and then silently congratulated myself.

The self congratulations made me giggle....

The Money pt. 5

  It was an hour into my escape when I started to shake. I had to pull off and park the bike under a tree while my nerves let go of some anxiety. I am not saying I cried but I sure wish I had a teddy bear to snuggle with. It passed after a while but a wave of exhaustion hit me and I decided to get off the freeway for a nap. I figured an off ramp had to be just a few miles away. 40 miles, and a little sleep driving later,  I was sleeping in the parking lot of a giant truck stop at a picnic table. The pervasive light of the sign only kept me awake for a couple minutes and soon I found myself amid a terrible dream.
  I was running away from a man with pliers. He had the voice of Morgan Freeman but the build and complexion of my most recent torturer, Shawn the sadistic fat guy. His face was eclipsed by his giant razor sharp teeth and no matter where I went he was right behind me. I woke up heart racing, drenched in sweat and with an urgent need to pee.
  My legs had cramped up while I slept and I spent a few excruciating minutes trying to make them move. I was positive my bladder was seconds from bursting and had to stop several times to attempt to "mind over matter" my incessant urge to pee. This of course nearly caused me to wee away in my pants so I hobbled along as best I could and found myself leaning against the wall for support as I finally found relief.
  I washed my hands and sauntered over to the attached diner for some grub. At a table, near the window, is where I first noticed that the vehicle I saw earlier was parked right next to my bike. My heart shot up into my throat and I had to focus on not vomiting all over the table. My appetite was gone and I sat there waiting for my impending doom. My eyes never left that car, even when the cute waitress came over to take my order. Not even when I ordered a last supper style meal, with more then I could ever possibly eat in one sitting. Nor did I look away when she asked if people were joining me and I replied that I hoped not. While I ordered and conversed (poorly) with the waitress, that car sat there the entire time. I was lost in its shiny windowed gaze.
  It was as I sat there staring at the car that things began to change. As if there truly were guardian angels my luck continued to hold up very well. The full comedic impact of my bout of paranoia did not dawn on me when a mother and daughter came walking toward that car. Nor did it hit while I watched as the mother strapped her daughter in a car seat in that car and then belted herself in before pulling out to head back to the freeway. In fact, it did not hit until the server delivered 7 giant meals with 6 sides. I was briefly the most popular guy in the place as I handed the meals out to incoming diner guests. 

The Money (pt. 4)

What I had forgotten about were the dogs. The good thing is, although they are not my number one fans, they are both tea cup poodles and they cowered under the television stand after I hurled a fake kick in their direction. I head to the bathroom and find it to be immaculately clean, unlike the rest of the house. I turn on the water and just get in, clothes and all and begin scrubbing. I am mersmerized by the swirl of red that circles the drain before going away. My mind is filled with thoughts of stupid CSI shows and all the ways they catch a killer. Luckily.... or perhaps unluckily they will probably never find Shawn's body, because these guys clean up shop very quickly and very effectively. I start to peel off clothes as the red color starts to fade and I allow myself to soak in the heat of the shower and try to let it wash the memories away. Instead I keep seeing my blood covered hands fall down on a body that is no longer moving.

I leave my clothes in the shower when I climb out. I drip water all over the floor as I look through his cabinet for a towel. He has an overabundance of big fluffy towels and I flip the towel out before wrapping it around me. As I leave the bathroom I realize one other miscalculation. Shawn was shorter wider and more metallic then I am, which means finding clothes might be a problem. I flip through things and find a huge t-shirt and some pants, that have a layer of dust on them, that are only 4 sizes too big. It will work if I use a belt and cinch it up tight. The alternative I have is that I could relive the style of my youth and let the pants hang low.... so all the ladies can see my rear end.

I emerge from the bathroom, with the belt as tight as I can make it, and hear the welcoming growls of the still cowering dogs. I walk past them, which causes a bit of yipping, and I head into the kitchen to look for food. I am greeted by a pile of dirty dishes and an overstuffed trash can, that has a faint odor of rotting fruit to it. I look around for food anyway and I find a frozen dinner that looks somewhat edible and I throw it in the microwave for the required time. Then I grab a beer from the fridge and I sit down and begin eating with Shawn's last clean fork.

After I finish I decide to take a look around. I peak in drawers, cookie jars, containers, piggy banks and I start piling up things that might be of use. I have a wad of cash, a gun, some travelers checks and a knapsack piled in the middle of his couch. It is when I look in the garage that I see what I never knew that I was looking for. I see a Harley Davidson Fat Boy sitting there begging to be rode. I locate the keys hanging on his key rack and I head back in and grab the knapsack. I open the garage, back the bike up and then crank over the engine. It gives a loud satisfying growl. I put the helmet on my head and I take off down the road. I notice a van drive past me as I sit waiting to turn right off the street and I recognize one of the people in it. I turn the corner and pick up speed and hope they failed to notice me or the stolen bike.

The Money (pt. 3)

I hang up after leaving my last message. I hope that the people will call back.I hear Shawn outside my cell singing taunts to me. If I had just trained to be sneakier, a bit quicker..... instead I find myself looking through my contacts for one more person.

"Gimme the phone." Jimmy says breaking through my desperate thoughts. "I can't have you dialling without supervision."

"I'm just looking at the contacts... trying to see if I got them all...." He takes the phone from my hand to end my objection.

"Maybe one of those people you called will call back. We'll wait and see." His compassion confuses me. It is like he is a different person.

"Doughtfuhl." Shawn yells as he walks in. "Yooh ahreh screhwehd!"

I just look at him for a minute and fight the instinct to attack him. I am half sure I would win but it seems like too big of a chance to take at this point but if things get more desperate....

"Give it a rest Shawn. Don't you have work to do that will take you somewhere else?" Jimmy asks.

"Thah bohsss tohld me tooooh stay here. Thhinks yoooh wehnt sohft." He smiles self satisfactorily. "He cahlled meeeh in to mahke sure ahll loohse ends are tiehd uhp." The twinkle in his eye seems to be dancing as he reveals this last bit of information. I wonder if that was a threat to Jimmy so I steal a glance at Jimmy who seems to be stunned by what Shawn has said.

"What does that mean you metallic piece of crap? You trying to scare me? I don't think the bosses would send an incompetent in to take care of me! You could never make it happen!" Jimmy responds.

Shawn turns his back to me and seems to be no longer aware that I am in the room. "Yooh hahve noh right tooh speahk to me lihke that Jiiiihmmy. They dohn't cahre what you'hre doing here. They just want problems eliminated." He says as loud as his hoarse voice can go.

I look at the back of Shawn for a moment as I formulate a plan. I decide that now is my chance. I have to attack Shawn. I doubt Jimmy would stop me, he has made the loathing of Shawn very clear, but I wonder if he would allow me to escape.

"You are a lousy manager Jimmy. Everybody  hates yOOOOOOFFF!" I tackle him in the midsection knocking the wind out of him. Then I just start wailing on him like a man possessed. He is trying to cover up while whimpering but I have no intention of letting up. After what sems like several minutes but is in reality only about a minute I feel my arms getting tired. I don't want to stop the pummeling so I bring my hands together and use my ebbing strength to hit him with my conjoined fist while adding some kicks for good measure.

Soon I notice I have made him bleed and I feel like stopping but I am too afraid to stop. I begin to wonder why Jimmy isn't pulling me off. I notice that my teeth begin to hurt because I am clamped down so tight as I wail on Shawn. My arms scream out in exhaustion and my hands feel so sore that I am sure they are about to start bleeding. That is when I let up. That is when I stop and look at my hands.... at the blood. Shawn doesn't move.

I fall away from him and back up to the wall. I look over and Jimmy is staring at me like he is not sure he knows who he is dealing with. I echo that sentiment inside my own head. Who am I and how did that just happen? Then another thing occurs to me and I race back to Shawn. Fumble around for the keys and get ready to barrel through Jimmy. When I turn around I notice he is gone and I feel the urge to stop think my next steps through but I don't have the time. I can't squander the opportunity to escape and I am not entirely sure Jimmy didn't go to get a gun. I rush out the door and try to find the exit that will take me to the dead tattooed guys car.

I look down at my hands and notice I have more then Shawn's keys, I have his wallet and a long knife. I do not recall taking these but I recognize that I could probably use both. I tuck the wallet in my pocket and I flip the knife so the back rests against my forearm. I push through the exit toward a back parking lot. I take off my bloody shirt as I walk and I try to use the back, the non bloody side, to wipe up the blood. It soon proves futile and I start walking while hitting the lock button on his little keypad until I hear a distinct chirping. I head that direction and notice Shawn was a proud owner of a minivan. A minivan with the little stick figures that people like to put on their cars to let you know they have a family but this just shows one guy and 2 dogs. I breathe a sigh of relief that he still does not seem to have any redeeming qualities. I would have felt bad about killing someone's father.

I open the door and notice the stench before I even see the mess. It is filled with half eaten fast food and some seems to have went South. I look in the mirror and see blood speckles and my face and decide not too judge. I decide to take a look at the license as I pull out of the parking lot. I take note of his address and I head there immediately. I have the feeling that I should get cleaned up and I have no desire to go home.

The ride passes in a blur and I find myself outside of a small little house that looks run down even though it happens to be in a super wealthy part of the city. I shake my head, get my keys and head to the door. As I do this my head is filled with one thought "What happened to Jimmy?"

The Money (pt. 2)

Normally, if this really were a bad '80's movie, I would spend my blacked out experience reliving the last few days so that I could fill in the audience on what happened. Unfortunately this isn't a bad movie andmy mind doesn't like following rules. Instead I am stuck following 3 pink rabbits who occasionally kick me for no apparent reason. Well no reason besides that they are evil devil worshipping Satan spawn rabbits. I am still not clear why I know that about them because, like real rabbits, they can't talk. I am also not clear on why a Satan spawn would also be a devil worshipper. I could share our adventures but they don't really make sense. I could also blather incessantly about how dreams make total sense while your asleep but no sense once you awaken but I am kind of awake and in pain now. It seems the illustrated porcupine has a taste for ripping off fingernails and I am in the middle of screaming bloody murder.

"Don't start on the next one Shawn! The goal is to get him to talk not to wilt in pain!" Jimmy screams. Such compassion.

I whimper something that is supposed to sound bold and brave but that fingernail deduction really sucked. My whole hand is on fire from him pulling out one freaking fingernail!

"What was that? Did you feel like talking? You can tell Shawnie!"

I almost throw up at his self imposed nickname (or perhaps it is the blinding pain) but instead I look up at him and I repeat myself. My mom didn't raise no fools.... well with the exception of me she didn't. "I said I specifically requested a pedicure with a high gloss clear coat and not all this red...."

My voice is barely a whisper but he hears me and his eyes broadcast instant anger. I find myself instantly wondering why this looks so much cooler in the movies as he leaps at me with the pliers. Once again I find myself in the weird position of thanking Jimmy for coming to my rescue as he collars Shawn and drags him, screaming newly created curse words at me, from the room.

"I never knew you were this friggin' stupid kid. Just get us the money. Ain't you got no family you could get the four grand from? You seem a likable guy, at least a guy with some con ability. Someone who could talk his way into some one's pocket. Yet here you are talking crap to a man who wants to make you suffer." Oompah says to me and it is starting to sound like true compassion. I try to stay focused and stop envisioning him singing the songs from the original Chocolate Factory movie. "You clear your frigging head! When I come back, I hope you have come up with a plan. I honestly don't got the stomach for murder and I hate the fingernail thing. If it were up to me I would have just beat you into the hospital but you caught the eye of those above me. So now we can't let you go with out showing something."

Once he has left I start to regroup. It is not easy with the throbbing of my hand but I manage to get a handle on a few things. Most importantly I start to realize that I don't like being hurt and that I need to make it out alive and with no more assaults to my person. After I come to a realization that should have been obvious, I start to look around the place. I see a camera looking at me. Which seems odd... who records torture? A part of me thinks it is just a b.s. psych out thing but the other part of me is sure that the ones in charge want their proof. They want to see me break. I am not wild about being watched so I push myself up to my feet and stumble my way underneath it, so I am only partially in it's view. The camera doesn't move. I turn my focus to inventorying this room. There isn't must besides blood and me. Nothing is in my pockets and I don't have my shoes. I spend the next few minutes being pissed about losing those shoes, I made them myself online. They were sweet. I realize I am drifting again and I tell the rabbits to leave me alone.

I know now that I won't outwit or overpower them in my current state. I spend a few depressing minutes feeling my pain and thinking about my impending painful demise. Once I am done with that I began trying to think of every single person I have ever oweed me a favor.....

The Money

Sometimes you have to shake off a run of bad luck. It ain't always easy, but anything worth fighting for usually isn't. I figured my life was worth fighting for. There are those detractors out there like the guy I was running from right this moment. He would give anything to shake me and my bad luck into the hospital. I had one chance and it was the ferry that was supposed to be leaving in 15 seconds. If it was going to work I had to be barely within jumping distance and he had to be outside that distance. It felt like I was in a movie and I hoped my luck was movie luck. I pushed past some people that were waving goodbye to loved ones. There weren't a lot of those because most ferry passengers are day trippers but there were some. IT should have seemed odd. One of the well wishers catches my eye a second too late and I feel my side explode in a solar flare of pain. My run has not ended as planned. Sometimes....... things don't shake so well. I feel like I am spinning as I actually plummet into the frigid waters of the Sound. My last conscious thought is about the large cleavage of the woman who stabbed me.

I awake in a grey building with a scary tattooed and grotesquely pierced freak sewing me up like I am Sally from the Nightmare Before Christmas. Odds are, with the way I feel, that Sally is still the better looker of the two of us. It takes me a moment to hear the noises that go along with the overly bejeweled lips of the scary one. I briefly wonder if the person is female or male when it/he/she slaps me. The voice does not help me clear it up, it's a dry scratchy noise that sounds like what a muted dog would sound like if it's barks were human speech. "...... bloooohdy ihdioht! Yoooh shouldenah rahn. Iht mahkes theh bosth mahd. Thehn yooh ehnd uhp here ahnd I hafta pahtch yah up."

"I take it from your whining that Ray is awake and with us again. How was that nasty little spill into the Puget Sound? Worth the run you little shit!? Nearly caved your head in on the boat and I am still trying to figure out if that would have been bad or not. On one hand a dead man never pays but on the other you seems like a big time loser that won't ever pay!" hollers Jimmy Oompah Loompah (as he is less then affectionately referred to due to his overtanning and rather underdeveloped stature).

"Thihs bloohdy ihdioht prohbahbly wihshes heee nehvah mahde iht bahck ouht ohf the sohund!" cackles the walking piercing.

"Shut up! I hate your breathy voice Shawn! Isn't it about time for you to be done? Don't frigging answer that! It was a rhetorical question!"

At least Oompah and I agree on something, the voice does make the pierced and tattooed one even harder to handle. I can see that Shawn, the living canvas, has been offended when he yanks a little too hard on the thread. I can't help but let out a whimper in response. I see a smile spread across both of their faces and realize that pain from others is what brought this dynamic duo together and will probably keep it together long enough to deal with me. Luckily for me, Shawn, the world's ugliest canvas, has hurriedly finished up and left. But not without kicking me very near my flesh wound first.

When the world returns to a less pain blurred focus I see the Loompah is patiently waiting on me. "I am betting you were hoping for a bit more luck today. Unfortunately you weren't focused on all the details that a man like me has to be focused on. I anticipated your move, it was so 1980's cliche movie get away...."

"Really..." I whisper, "must have missed those movies.:" Jimmy's orange face slips out of sadistic smile mode and takes on an 'I will kill you' facial expression. That is when I realize that I am living out the ultimate cliche where the hero, ha!, taunts his captor. Unfortunately cliches do not protect you from searing pain and I wake up with the tattooed one cleaning me up again. It makes me think of the Princess Bride and the pit of despair. I smile as I think of Wesley being cleaned up before his torture begins.

"The ihdioht ihs ahwahke." Igor the rhinestone pierced cowboy announces.

"I don't like you Ray!" bellows a high pitched orange.

"Really...?" I breathe.

"I just want the money and you run from me. I am forced to have you stabbed and then sewn up and all you can do is mock me." He glares at me and I try not to smirk, even in this much pain my urge to laugh at inappropriate times is trying to take over. "I will kill you if we continue in this fashion, RAY!"

All I can think is 'why does he keep saying my name, does he think I might think he is talking to Shawn the fishing lure?' That makes me laugh, unfortunately. I briefly swim through a tide of crimson before the blackness falls on me like a wannabe vampire's ever important cape.

To be continued?

Black Friday or disaster deals

I am sitting in the Las Vegas airport with a large beer witnessing Oregon state get demolished by Oregon. I hate this airport. I hate layovers. This lady has a small dog that is going bonkers. I would like to mace her. Speaking of macing people... how about crazy Walmart shoppers? Is it just me or does black Friday seem a little too dangerous? Maced or shot, you can get cheap crap and a bonus gift! It seems to me that Walmart is a lot more dangerous then the other retailers. I am not saying it has anything to do with the degenerates that regularly shop there or the terrible corporate overlords running the place..... But it does. What do you expect with all the hype, limited supply and the short timing of the big discounts? If you say the sale is for 2 hours shouldn't there be enough for that time period? I saw a lot of ads say every store only has 20 of the best deal. So you know that means people will continue to act crazy. Getting maced while trying to get a stupid video game is insane. Getting shot on the way out is even worse. What is wrong with people? How much do you need to save 30 bucks? Walmart claims despite the incidents, the ones that seem to be adding more victims every year, customers were positive about racing through a store for some stupid deal. Except isn't it their responsibility to protect their customers. Shouldn't they indicate more concern? Where is there plan for avoiding future incidents? By the way how is that Oregon greeter who was hospitalized last year after being trampled doing?

The Flu Shot Debacle

I have no movies to review this week. It is not because there were no screenings because I had an opportunity to see 2 or 3 movies this week. The reason I didn't see any movies was because I was sick. I figured I needed to sleep more and be entertained less. As a result this was the longest week filled with very little memories of actual events. I think the kids had fun and I am almost sure they learned a few things. It's just that, I am the one who is hazy on exactly the what, where, when, why and how of what happened this week. Sure I planned and oversaw all activities but I was struggling between exhaustion and the Dayquil fog. Dayquil has the ability to make me feel like I am watching the happenings and not actually participating. The problem with that is I am watching my own happenings and not having a real clear idea of what I am doing. Luckily, there is a part of my brain that is doing what needs to be done so that little part of me that is cluelessly watching can just zone out. If only that made me a better or more patient person....

You might be asking why I am spending time writing about this, when I obviously have nothing new to share. I am very glad you wondered that (and if you didn't I am really glad you are continuing to read). The reason I am writing today is to ask what you think of flu shots. Do you get them? No matter what the answer, why?
If you don't get them: Have you ever got one? What is your reason for not getting them? Do you think they have ever made you sick?
If you do get them: How long have you got them? Why do you get them? Do you think they have ever made you sick?

Here are my experiences with the flu shot. I got one a few years ago (like10) and I immediately came down with something. I swore off them. Then I went back to school to become a teacher and people started singing the praises of flu shots. I was still adamant that I didn't want them and I stuck to my guns. In my 2nd and last year of school (Winter/Spring 2009), my underemployed self came down with a severe flu right before I had to teach for Mad Science. I am sure plenty of kids got that bug from me but it literally hit 10 minutes before I started teaching and by the time I was done I was an achy, snotty, sweaty mess. The materials I had to cart back to the office felt like it weighed 6 times more even though it weighed a few pounds less (we gave them things to take home and make). Anyway it was the worst flu I had ever had. I was shivering under several blankets. It hurt to move, sit, lie down, and stand. I had a fever. I emptied my contents from both ends that evening. It felt like a week of sheer Hell.

When I recovered I was once again reminded by all these people about the benefits of the flu shot. When I was employed as a teacher last year, I got my first flu shot in 9 years. I had a few colds but no flu. So this year I got the free one last Wednesday and by Saturday afternoon I could feel it waiting in my shadow. As the night progressed I knew by morning I would have some kind of illness but I was being positive, it would just be a cold. The next morning it had hit and I felt awful. I went to Williams-Sonoma because I was stubborn but as the class continued to roll I realized I was no longer interested in sampling the free freshly baked pie and that I just wanted to sit down. I ended up sleeping the Sunday away and my body hurt, I had chills and sweats, and I felt feverish. I did not go to the doctor (because I secretly believe the doctors gave me this flu like episode) because they tell you to get rest, drink liquids and give antibiotics that don't work; which means that I am not sure if it really was the flu. Having said that, I am totally sure it was the flu.

So tell me, should I chalk it up to error and gamble on the shot next year? Or should I gamble on no shot and take my chances?

Tower Heist, A Rambling Review

Once again Gofobo.com came through with tickets, this time they were to see Tower Heist.

I have to admit this review would be a lot easier if I hated this movie. It is always easier to write the movie review for a movie that nobody should see then it is for a movie that rocks. The biggest issue is not giving people too much info or over hyping it. Having said that, I was excited from the moment I saw the commercial for this movie, the industry folks like to call them trailers (but I write this for the non-industry types, sorry Ben Stiller). When I am excited about a movie it falls into 2 categories: I hope this movie is as good as it looks or this movie looks stupidly funny and I hope it is. This movie, with it's overabundance of star power, fell into the former category. This movie is/was poised to be either terribly disappointing or astoundingly entertaining. I am happy to report that it was the latter in this case. I was amused, the free movie crew I roll with were amused, and the rest of the cheap-skate movie viewers were entertained as well. There are lots of laughs and Eddie Murphy's character was a character you really enjoy seeing him play: an angry, rude, chip on the soldier black man. A character he used to rock in SNL skits. It was the best movie with Eddie Murphy in the cast since the days of Beverly Hills Cop. I do not want to ruin the movie so I will give you a synopsis that you can easily get from watching the preview. An evil business man screws hundreds of people out of money by fraudulent investments including the people who work at the hotel he lives at. Ben Stiller, someone who admires the guy up until that point, creates a plan to rob the money back. He collects his crew of misfits and adds one inept criminal to the mix and gets to work. Unless you are a rich guy who got rich from stealing people's pensions, you will probably like the underdogs' tale in this flick. It makes you cheer and laugh right along with all the craziness. One of my favorite scenes was when Eddie checks the guys stealing metal by daring them to shoplift at the mall. That scene had me laughing so hard that I would almost miss the next hilarious scene.
I enjoyed this flick but oddly enough as I walked out I heard two large ladies (and when I say large I mean defensive line in the NFL type of weight on a smaller less fit individual) complaining about some inconsistency in the story. I had a similar thought about a weird plot thing that bugged me a bit but I thought "Hey this is a comedy.... who cares!" and got over it. The ladies, who could block for Phillip Rivers (QB for San Diego), were actually complaining about something that happened that I am still not sure about, what I mean is they were talking about a detail that I do not even remember occurring. Their whiny natures made me want to revoke their abilities to see a free movie. It was not like the studio execs were going to rework scenes a week before the dang thing is coming out! So why bother the poor worker with all your stupid plotholes? The only real answer, of course, is that you are stupid. Speaking of stupid, all these people that I was around as I walked out of the movie were whining that it was taking 5 seconds longer to leave the theater because people are expected to give an opinion about the free movie they just saw. One lady was like "I can't understand why we are not exiting the theater!" Her friend agreed with some words that sounded just as stupid. I said, "It's because they are collecting comments as we exit." Some other idiot said, "It seems like they could move out into the lobby a little more so we could get out." "My first reaction was to look at him sympathetically, like you would if some mentally handicapped dog was humping your leg After I pushed the guy off my leg, I said, "Well, I think a few seconds longer to leave while being asked to give an opinion is a pretty good deal for a movie. If they were to move it back a little bit you might not get a chance to put in your 2 cents. Not that your 2 cents would be worth much...." At this point people stopped talking out loud around me, I am not sure why. Anyway go see this movie! Also go to Gofobo.com and then join my free movie crew at the next flick. Just make sure to whine about the exit time later or I will mock you as we leave. (BTW whining about a crappy movie is fine, I did that at the stupid bird movie)

Texas Killing Fields; A Rambling Review

My free movie trend was slower then usual this week. I only had a free pass from the Facebook version of Gofobo.com, Buzzbo Phoenix. It was for the Texas Killing Fields and I was not sure I would make it in time to get a free flick considering they just posted it for anyone on Facebook to download and print off. I arrived later then normal but I had plenty of seats to choose from, not many people came. I think it might have something to do with the title being Texas Killing Fields. Every one hears that title and immediately assumes it is some trashy horror flick but it is a cop story. Combine the misled belief, that it is a horror flick, with the fact that this is the month of October and people did not pay much attention. Which was good for my late arrival but probably not good for their sales numbers. This review is going to sound bad and I feel bad about that but it is mainly because it is kind of bad. I want to let you know that through out the whole thing I could not help but be curious about these characters which is a positive. It was a very good base to build upon but it needs the details filled in. Without the details for the other story lines, that it drops everywhere, we are left with a very simple story that we already know the outcome of. I wanted to like this movie but I kept finding myself thinking that the movie was never going to end, which is not a good thing when it is only about an hour and 45 minutes long. So I have mixed emotions, I want to like it but I keep discovering holes in the story and plot as I keep thinking about it. So I guess I have to say that I did not like it and wish that they had shown it to me earlier so I could have suggested some changes be made. Unfortunately that is not going to happen, but here is a review of Texas Killing Fields.

The movie is set in and around Texas City, TX and is based on a real story. Actually, the movie states that it was inspired by a true story, which leads me to believe it is not as "true story" as they want you to believe. I may be wrong...

The story opens up with a shot of a swampy, marsh area and an abandoned car with the doors thrown wide. Then we get introduced to our 3 main players, two of which are cops. One is named Mike and the other's name escapes me, funny that I remember the character with my name. I just looked it up and discovered the other cop's name is Brian. The third character is a 14-ish girl named Anne. This girl played a vampire in Let Me In which was the American remake of Let the Right One In, which are both good movies although my preferred version is the original one. The girl is alone at a gas station and seems to have nothing to do and the 2 cops are at a homicide crime scene. Later on, after they have left the dead body behind, the cops stop and talk to her as she wanders the street and we find out this girl is on probation (which never gets explained and this lack of information is still bothering me) and has a drug addicted and a prostitute for a mom. They drive the girl, who they know from prior experiences (that are never explained either), to her home where we meet a group of guys and the mom. We find out later that one of the guys that files out is this girl's brother but it was not clear to me during the scene. My focus was on Mike, who is in the process of staring down some smarmy guy. The creepy guy seems to accept the proffered challenge but no fists fly and not a whole lot of words are exchanged. They leave the home and those at the home are now a bit more tense and you are now twice as worried about this poor girl. When they are driving away we get introduced to a 4th character who I would dub lead supporting character. She is another police officer from a neighboring district, named Pam, and she is calling for Brian and during the conversation we learn she is the ex of Mike (once again a piece of interesting information that never gets explored). She has found the car we saw in the opening scene and she wants help form Brian but Mike is adamant that he shouldn't help her. He follows his partner's advice (kind of) and says when she finds the body to call him. What was weird was that after this conversation she gets to the car and starts hollering at people. Why would she call for help on a case before their really is a case? Why would she call that quickly anyway? Is she the only cop in her district? It certainly doesn't look like that when we see her station the next day. We get treated to a scene where she is beating up some guy and asking him about his visits with women. We do not ever see this guy again and she never gets called on assaulting him. We do get treated to Mike showing up and telling her that her request for Brian ended up with her working with him instead. Except she hasn't found a body so why did she make the call? As I write this I realize that I am just getting more and more dissatisfied, this was not a good movie. Meanwhile, the other case has some starring candidates for the first murder. There seems to be a pimp involved with the dead girl and he has a crazy Nazi tattooed friend. This was a weird pairing because the pimp was a big, giant black guy and he was hanging with the creepy, also giant, Nazi tattoo guy. Anyway they are guilty of something if not all. The movie contains more verbal exchanges, another cop assault (Brian hits a guy), a car chase, a shootout and a stabbing. The one thing I have to question is the one near rape of a lady who is home with her daughter, it seems like a stupid scene and we never see her again after the scene ends. So we are treated to a traumatic scene for no clear reason. I have no idea why it was in there, it was not needed and only helped muddy the water.  There are a few scenes that aren't explained as well as a few random characters (including Brian's wife and family). A lot of the movie's characters were not explained and their issues were not explored and I found that had this been done that this would be a good movie. With it not done it is basically a slightly boring movie with good actors in it.

As far as the direction of the movie, I found a lot of the shots looked crappy and kind of low budget. There are several points where their are black screens while the scene changes. There are often weird edits and cuts that make you think someone was showing off recently learned editing skills. A lot of these things occurred to me as  I watched the movie and I do not claim to be an expert in the art of movie directing. If these things caught my eye, being a film making novice, then it makes me wonder what a more tenured film professional saw. The worst part was all the fancy editing actually only seemed to make me aware of time passing. It made me come out of the movie completely and wonder when it was all going to end. The worst part was that it's weird slapped together and disorganized feel made me think that it was a very early version of the film and that edits will be made. Which would be fine except that the movie came out in some theaters last week and I am assuming that it is due out in more theaters soon. If you have to see this movie make sure you rent it and that you don't pay more then a buck or a netflix monthly subscription to do so.

Bear with me: the interview

She got a concerned look on her face as she looked at her mobile phone and said to me, "Bear with me for a moment."

That was not the first time I had heard this from her and I had only met her 5 minutes ago. I felt annoyed by this phrase more so then the fact that we kept getting interrupted. I was dressed in a 3 piece suit and interviewing for a job that I secretly hoped I didn't get but that I desperately needed. It was not a big deal that it was not going well or that I wasn't holding her attention. It was mainly the idea that she kept seeming so falsely apologetic. It is not like you can ever say "Forget that ya repulsive beast! I am not bearing with you, you either focus on my needs or I go home!" I am not the person in power, we are not meeting during my busy day, and I definitely didn't have something she needed so that she could pay the rent. She was the person in power, who made time during a busy day (sort of, since she was constantly dealing with other issues) and had a job available that could prevent me from eating paste and living in a refrigerator box behind the local Best Buy. The thing is that it wasn't even the fact that the phrase relies on a false belief that I am really bearing with you and that we are in some rough patch together. The phrase reminds me of that awful cat picture that has a cat dangling by one claw and above it are the words "Hang in there!" The cat is already doing that! Why doesn't that jerk of a photographer put the stupid camera down and help that cat out!? What you don't see in that picture is the huge vat of acid the photographer put under the cat. Stupid evil photographer! No one really likes that poster except for simpletons and soon to be crazy cat ladies. In fact one store had a promotion once where if you made a purchase they gave you that poster and the building was set on fire and the owner was run out on a rail. I am sure that last bit is completely true and in no way just popped into my head. Why am I talking to myself? Will this fricking lady get off the phone?!? Crap she is doing the sympathetic frown/smile thing, that shows she really values me but has to deal with the phone issue. Which brings me back to the original thought, why does "bear with me" get stuck in my craw? (BTW I hate that phrase too, who has a craw these days? Crabs with speech impediments?). The phrase, bear with me, bothers me because it is spelled like the animal and yet if I clawed her desk or pooped in her minifridge I would be in trouble. So somehow I am expected to "bear" with her without doing bear-like things. I should probably google the phrase.... It probably has nothing to do with bears.

"Sorry about that, busy day around here." She says as she puts the phone down. "Where were we?"

You had just asked the ever sucktacular question about what my weaknesses are and I was trying not to bear with you (meaning, of course, that I was resisting the urge to poop in your minifridge). "I am not sure exactly, I think I had just talked about some challenges I had faced that I had been able to find solutions for." When in doubt, change the subject.

"Oh.... ok... yes, I see that here... so why don't you restate that to me so that I make sure I got it all."

Wow, who is not paying attention to me at all? You aren't! Where should I start? I could tell her about the crazy guy that I made so happy he broke into dance. I made him happy by putting enough mayo on his sandwich and apparently I was the first to ever get it right. That probably isn't good enough..... what is believable but better then all my actual experiences? How about if that crazy guy wasn't crazy but he was someone who had a conference that I was able to negotiate a great price for food and beverages and he started doing business with us on a regular basis? Too far fetched? I got it I will just have him send a thank you note to the store thanking me for my tremendous effort and attention to details. Done. I think she liked it.... and now some witty banter from her. When will this end? I feel kind of hungry. Did she just offer me a job? Did I just say yes? People love sandwiches! I want a sandwich! I wonder if yelling random facts about bears would be ok at this juncture. I wonder if she likes sandwiches.

"I'll go get the paper work from HR and if you will just bear with me we can get you stated tomorrow."

That does it! I am at least going to urinate on her plastic plant.....

The Great Satellite Caper

It was late September and the news media was alive with the tale of the crashing satellite. I had talked about it with my class at school that very day and we had discussed where it would land and where it was coming from. It tied directly in with the subject we were discussing, the layers of the atmosphere. My students left school knowing the satellite would not fall in their backyards but eager to see where it did fall. I arrived at my mom's house for a nice dinner and somewhere along the way we began discussing the satellite. That was when she dropped this bombshell, "Today when I picked up Becky I saw a piece of the satelliteon the road near her work." I laughed at her and figured she was kidding but she wasn't and she was determined to be heard. She insisted she saw it and that she had shown it to Becky. So I ask, "How do you know it was a satellite piece?" Her responsewas "It was sitting in the middle of the road, what else could it be?" I had several arguments to dispute that but I decided to take a different route. "Did you get out and look at it?" She had not of course. "Mom, I am still not understanding why you think this was part of the satellite, were other people noticing it? Were the cops around?" No one else seemed interested and no cops were involved. "So.... you saw what looked like a piece of the satellite and you did not immediately stop and scoop it up?" That had not occurred to her but what had was "I was just relieved that the satellite had fallen and that we no longer needed to worry about it." I continued asking questions. "were ther any craters in the ground? Had it even left an impact on the concrete? It hadn't of course and my only real question was why she thought it was a part of the satellite. I could not discern any facts or reasons that she thought it was the satellite. As far as I could tell she figured it was a satellite because it was in the middle of the road and it was metal. I started asking about why Becky had not insisted on stopping and getting a good look. She was not sure but thought maybe Becky was just relieved like she was. I realized I was getting nowhere and all of a sudden I wanted this piece of the satellite. She offered to get the satellite the next day but I was nervous that it might actually be the real satellite and that I might miss my chance. I was playing the odds you see. I figured it was a win win. Either I would find a piece of the satellite inexplicably in the middle of the road in a business zoned area of Phoenix or I would find some random piece of metal that I could write a blog about. So we hopped in my truck and she showed me the way. It was not where it had been and it was not until we were leaving that she saw that some one had moved it out of the road. We stopped the car and we grapped it and gently put it in the truck and now I want you to tell me.... do you think this is part of the satellite? Should I call NASA?

Two More....

I saw two more movies this week. One was free thanks to Gofobo.com and the Arizona Republic. Here are the reviews...

The Way

I was the motivating factor for my free movie watching crew to see this movie. Last weekend we saw the code for two movies in the paper. One was the terribly boring flick, The Big Year, and the other was for this movie. The crew had decided that this particular theater was outside of their travel boundaries. I drive a lot for my job and that has changed what seems far and what doesn't for me. I pushed and they came along. Which of course meant that this movie that I had never heard of had to be god or else I would have whiny companions. They might have rioted. You know how angry older (then me) people get. I have seen shows about the 60's they like protesting! The good news is that riots and protests were not ever staged because the flick came through. The movie is about a man and his estranged son. Of course it is really about the man because his estranged son dies in France on his first day of a pilgrimage that apparently lots of people participate in. The father goes to collect his son's body and his things and spontaneously decides to do the pilgrimage for him. As he walks he ends up collecting some unwanted tag-alongs that make the journey interesting and finally help him confront his son's death. It is really well acted, the cinematography is amazing, and the story is pretty lighthearted despite some very serious issues that the people involved are dealing with. It stars Martin Sheen and Emilio Estevez (also the director, I believe) and some other people.... ;)

Dream House

If you caught the preview then you have seen this movie. If you have not seen the preview then you have a chance of enjoying it. If you have not seen the preview, and/or want to see the movie, stop reading, this is your last warning. James Bond (who cares about his real name) is a retiring editor who is very successful and well liked. He has a hot wife and two adorable girls that he is leaving his job to spend more time with and to write that ever elusive great novel. The first issue I had with the movie was here. I got the feeling this was the '40's or something until I got a good look at the city and saw graffiti as he rode the train. The next thing that bothered me was that Elias Koteas was on that train being creepy. Elias Koteas has starred in a lot of movies and you will recognize him right away. When I see him I always figure he is a bad guy because I think I have seen him be a bad guy in a lot of movies. He was a crazy serial killer in Fallen and I will always recognize him and associate him with that movie. Anyway when he gets to his new town, a lady who sold him the house picks him up but he doesn't remember her. Then all of his neighbors, cops and towns people seem to hate this guy. He seems like a nice guy and it seems weird. Of course right about here I remembered why, that stupid trailer!!! He isn't a retiring editor. He is a dude who is crazy and just got out of a psych ward and everyone thinks he killed his family. What is weird is in the movie he starts looking greasy and dirty before the reveal that he is the crazy suspected killer.So you keep thinking why hasn't he put on new clothes? Because he is imagining a nice home and a nice family but he is living in his condemned home where his family died. So after the reveal they kind of have us straddle two worlds with him and it seems to be going nowhere. Apparently the director thought so too because suddenly it is dangerous for him to live in his house (according to his hot neighbor). That is when we discover what really happened that night. The ending seemed slapped on and it just kind of felt unsatisfying. Was it terrible? No. Was it worth seeing for 7 to 13 bucks at the theater? no. If you really must see this flick, rent it for a buck or wait for it to stream on Netflix. The movie starts off so well and interesting that I still can't fathom how the second half came about. It seemed like a good premise but not real well thought out. I saw this movie with my nephew and he has his own take on it, you can read about it here: http://thechocolatecow.wordpress.com/2011/10/16/good-night-good-morning/

Free Movies!

The last couple of weeks I have seen 4 movies for free thanks to Gofobo.com.
I figure I owe it to you, my reading public, to review the movies I have seen.
50/50

This movie is about a guy who gets diagnosed with a rare form of cancer that has a survival rate of 50/50. Hence the name of the movie. It is a movie that deals with his journey from being diagnosed and through his treatment. It is pretty darn good and I laughed quite frequently. I was with some people who are older then I am and they enjoyed the movie despite Seth Rogan's supportive friend character being obsessed with having sex and for his cancer ridden buddy to participate in the sexing of willing females. It was a good movie and there are a lot of laughs despite such a heavy topic. I would recommend that you check it out.

Ides of March

This is a political thriller that was super depressing (and not really very thrilling). I hated this movie. I am not sure exactly why..... well that is not true. I went in with a different expectation of what the movie was about. I guess the name implied to me a more Caeser type story, where the powerful politician ends up dead. This might be a spoiler but he doesn't. The other thing that was going on is that it paints such a hopeless and bleak picture of the political landscape that leaves you cold and defeated.

Footloose

I loved the first version of this movie, especially the overly dramatic dance punching sequence (which the movie Hot Rod expertly lampooned). I had mixed feelings when I heard it was being remade but considering how dated the original is I though that it could be a good thing. I am happy to confirm that this was a great movie. I am not the only one who thought so, the crowd watching it with me cheered at the end of this film. It has a very similar story line and utilizes some of the original music. They did change the story and the storytelling a little bit, which was a very good thing. If you do not know Footloose from the original you may want to skip ahead. It starts with the preacher's son losing his life and advocating for the new set of laws. I have to say it was nice to see it before it is randomly explained. It gives you a little more of a connection to the town. Then Ren comes to town, a few years later, on a bus. He is alone and we find out his mother passed away after a long sickness. I liked this differing version a lot because it set up a better connection between Ren and his aunt, uncle and cousins. The best change was that the uncle was not a jerk like he was in the original. I hated the original uncle! So lame! The other major change was that the speach he gives to the council is actually a good one. He starts off nervous but soon is passionately talking about the dancing laws. It seemed more authentic then Kevin Bacon's super awkward speech. There are a few other changes but discover them on your own. As far as the music we have a lot of the originals including Footloose and Let's Hear it for the Boy. The latter is still used as the song that the awkward non-dancing friend learns to dance with. Go see this movie it is awesome!

The Big Year

This movie has a lot of outstanding people in it. That would lead you to believe that it should be awesome. Unfortunately it is a weak concept, three bird dorks are trying to see the most birds they can in a year to be named number one birder..... I am not making it up. That is the entire concept. The laughs are few and far between and the people are only moderately interesting. It was not a bad movie as much as it is a boring movie. I have no more words for this dreck!

9/11; 10 years later

Am I the only one who found I was unable to watch the news replay the entire coverage of the terrorist attack? I saw it all almost as it happened and I was glued to the television for weeks after. I sometimes think that tragedy is the reason I never make it through the news any more. It was like I watched enough news coverage for a life time.

I feel like I experienced the tragedy a little harder then those around me, I am talking about my immediate circle, because it was during one of my many periods of unemployment. That means I soaked in the tragedy in a non-stop viewing because I had nothing else to do. In fact, I had an interview that day and I even went to it. I dressed up in a tie and showed up feeling dazed and out of it. While I waited I watched the news reports on their television. During the interview we even talked about it. When I left I listened to the radio and when I got home I watched even more coverage. I found myself with friends watching it and over at my families house watching it. I was living and breathing a disaster.

It was terrible watching the footage over and over again. Seeing them circle those trapped people who decided to jump before starting the footage again. Watching that f'n second plane crash into the other tower. Watching both of them collapse. Seeing the people evacuating the area. I remember feeling super powerless and I had a burning need to do something. To help. To strike back. How do you help when you have no money to travel and donate time? I was a breath away from joining the armed forces. I never did because what I really wanted to do was go there and help the survivors and hopefully help find some alive in the wreckage. I never really figured out how to make that happen. Of course seeing how the government has treated those brave people, who could and did help, makes me count my blessings. I could be dying from the toxic fumes right now as a lot of those first responders are. I also feel lucky that I did not join the armed forces because it seems they pulled a bait and switch. We wanted to find those who did this and exact justice but that was not what happened. The mission became tainted for other reasons that I still do not understand. Nearly 10 years after he organized that terrorist attack we finally got Bin Laden but he was able to live in a place that was not very secretive for who knows how long and masturbate to American porn films. I am glad he is dead. If that makes me terrible... so be it.

I tried to watch the memorial coverage today and the people who actually lost people to that day were inspiring. They are so strong, it is amazing. Unfortunately they couldn't just stick with that. They had to show their coverage of the event in it's entirety and that felt overwhelming. I feel so bad for the people directly affected by this. They must go through hell every time the anniversary comes around. To have to relive that terrible day every year. I know it is part of history but I think I need a little more time to pass before I will be comfortable watching the footage. I don't even know anyone who died as a result of it, so I can onlyimagine how thise that do feel. I wish the news could focus on the survivors and how they are doing and what help we, as a nation can offer them.

I am shocked that we are not taking care of the first responders. I am happy that CNN did a special with Sanjay Gupta about what was in the dust. I recorded it and will be viewing it later this week. Hopefully it helps us get our government's butts in gear! I hope we can figure out how to take care of all those affected by this tragedy and I decided I needed to do something so I included a few links in this post. I am sure there are more out there so if you know of one please leave it in the comments or email me at: crazedlunatik@gmail.com

A few organizations that are trying to help:
http://www.911helpamerica.com/
http://www.familiesofseptember11.org/
http://www.fealgoodfoundation.com/index.html

This site had a few more links to look at:
http://www.fealgoodfoundation.com/links.html

Phone Drama

I am dealing with phone drama and have almost decided to go prepaid..... I am so tired of paying what I pay for the phone service. I have not been happy with my reception or the quality of the phone. I have the notion that part of my drama with my phone company stems from my uber-crappy phone and that might be the case. Unfortunately when I tried to rectify this situation I ended up getting into a bigger hole. Somehow I ended up with 2 lines when all I wanted was one with a new phone. I am still paying for a phone I no longer have and the amount I am paying I might as well be with Verizon as it is only 10 bucks more then what I pay now. Of course the representative assures me that this is all being fixed and that I will be refunded the money. In the meantime I am doing my research and I have realized that several companies out there have a prepaid plan with a smartphone and a monthly unlimited plan for 50 bucks. I think the writing is officially on the wall.... goodbye regular and super expensive plans, hello prepaid!

The company I am currently with is T-Mobile. The plan I am on should be 69.99 plus a 7 buck protection plan and of course the stupid taxes and what not associated with mobile phones. What I am paying however is around 108 bucks! In March I had a revelation, the phone I had was the reason I had terrible service. It was slow and annoying when I tried to use the android features. This is not the case on other phones that other people have. Nor was it the case with the phone I got for the week before realizing T-Mobile had taken stupid pills. I have been with T-Mobile for what seems close to 6 years. I was until this last year pretty happy with them. This last year I have been using this stupid Motorola Cliq. It seemed that this might be the issue. Add to that te fact that I was in Globe and spent my time on the nearby Apache Reservation. I figured it was just a bad mobile phone area. I talked to my sister and brother-in-law, who are T-Mobilers, and they get service where I don't. So I decided to get a new phone and for 5 glorious days I had a phone that worked and was fun to use. Then I went online to see about getting a case for it and I discovered I suddenly had 2 lines. I immediately called and told them that 2 lines was never my intent. I told them that I wanted the phone but not the extra line. They assured me they could do that but that I would need to send back the phone I had spent hours transferring phone numbers too. They told me that they would send a new, new phone to me and it would all work out. They put me on hold and typed away and when they came back they had more stupidly bad news. The payments I had arranged would need to change. As I was listening I realized that I did not feel like dealing with it. I told them I was sending everything back and that I no longer wanted the new phone due to their error. 3 months later I am still trying to get it cleared up.

This is the reason I am looking so hard for a new phone company. The phones I really want are expensive (even with the 2 year agreement) and then the stupid plans are too. That was why I started looking at prepaid plans. The phones are about the price I would pay for a phone anyway but the plans are cheaper.... by half. So I am deciding between Boost and Cricket and leaning towards Boost. Hopefully with the result of a little less grief.