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Volume 3, Issue 20
September 27 - October 11, 2001
AVOIDING
THEM
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JOHNNY'S DINER
I was at home in bed lying in a pool of sweat coming out of yet another
caffeine-induced nightmare. The bell was screaming beside the bed. "Oh man,
who could be calling this early?" I moaned as
I picked the phone.
My ears were ringing almost as loud as
the phone had been, but I managed to
make out a faint whispering voice on the
other end. It was Scotty. He had been up
all night peeking out of his windows
watching 'them', and was convinced that
'they' were on their way to get him as we
spoke.
The minute I opened my mouth to talk I
felt kind of a sticky film in my mouth that
had the distinct taste and smell of rat sex.
How I know what rat sex smells or tastes
like is another story. But rest assured, I do
know!
I assured him that 'they' weren't, and
suggested a little food and some sleep
might make it all seem a little less life-threatening.
After spending another few
minutes convincing him that I wasn't in
cahoots with 'them' he agreed to meet me
at Johnny's Diner.
I fired up the tattoo mobile and roared off
toward a grease-soaked breakfast,
mulling over the events that had led up to
this torturous morning.
Echoing in my mind was the infamous
precursor to most of the felonious events
of my life, "It all started innocently
enough. No one had intended it to get out
of hand."
See, Scotty, Dusty, and I had been working
at the emporium the day before. We
were all pulling doubles (10 a.m. 'til midnight).
Dusty had just put about 400
miles on his bike the night before and
Scotty had spent the evening doling out a
few miles of one dollar bills at some strip
joint. So they were both a little punchy.
That in itself would have been enough to
make it an unusual day but then around 3
o'clock or so, I got the bright idea of having
a Blue Ox/Red Bull marathon.
Dusty bought the first round of two Red
Bulls each. We downed those and I
bought us each two Blue Oxes, down
they went as well. Then Scotty did his
duty, and this continued into the night.
After a few hours Dusty was just sitting
in the corner with a maniacal grin on his
face caught in the punch line of some
joke he was too wired to tell.
Scotty's head had been exuding so much
heat that all the pomade in his hair had
melted and ran down the back of his neck
leaving him with an even more intense
'who crapped in my cheerios? ' scowl
than usual. Not to mention second degree
burns on his lower back where the heated
hair grease pooled. And I had gotten to
the point that I would either burst out in
laughing fits for no apparent reason or
start ranting about something no one but
me could understand.
Strangely, as time rolled on there were
fewer and fewer people that wanted to get
tattooed by any of us. It got to the point
that if I asked someone if they had been
helped they would say yes whether they
had or not, just to avoid dealing with me.
Yeah, we never intended for it to get out
of hand, BUT IT DID! It's all fun and
games 'til somebody's eye gets poked
out, then it's fun you just can't see! Ha! I
kill me!
Anyway, I saw Scotty in the parking lot;
he was just sitting there in his Caddy with
the engine running, darting his head back
and forth. I walked up to the car and
tapped on the window; he started to peel
out then realized it was me and slammed
on the brakes. If everyone wasn't looking
at us before they sure were now.
Using exaggerated hand signals that he
could see through the tinted window, I
finally talked him into getting out of the
car and we headed inside. My ears were
still ringing and there was some kind of
grit in my eyes, as we walked into the
place, actually more of a lurking creep
than a walk, but nonetheless we made it
into the building.
All eyes were on us as we saddled up to
the counter. I opted for a 'Big Bopper'
which consisted of a pile of fried potatoes
covered in melted cheese, topped with a
sausage patty, a few slices of bacon, and
a couple of eggs. A pile o'meaty, greasy
cholesterol, breakfast of champions
baby! I also ordered a large cup of coffee
and an orange juice. The girl behind the
counter took my six bucks and gave me
an empty Styrofoam cup and another one
to match full of OJ.
After Scotty ordered we entered the next
phase of our dining adventure. I grabbed
some plastic silverware and packaged
condiments, then filled up my cup with
some fairly weak coffee (thank god for
weak coffee on mornings like these) and
we headed for a table.
As soon as we sat down I noticed that this
and all the tables along the wall had a
serious lean to them. I sat there waiting
for our drinks to topple over until my
name was called over a loud speaker. I
remember wondering why do you need a
loud speaker in a place not much bigger
than your average 7-11? But far be it
from me to judge.
I went up and retrieved our cafeteria tray
loaded down with two paper plates full of
greasy flarn. My pile o' breakfast was
awesome! The paper plate, Styrofoam
cup, plastic silverware, packaged condiments
and leaning table seemed to matter
much less as I sat back with my belly full
of greasy goodness.
Scotty had mellowed out considerably
and was looking a little drowsy. He mumbled
something about bed and headed for
the door. I cleaned up our mess and exited
as well. I walked past Scotty's car as I
was heading for mine and saw him sound
asleep in the front seat with the engine
running. I opened the door, turned off the
engine and locked him in (it was Aurora
after all). All in all, mission accomplished;
a full belly for me and a cooled
head for Scotty. Just another day in the
life and times of a reluctant super hero!
B
www.noctul.com
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