by David Faden
June 21, 2002.
I'm writing so I suppose that means I want you to read. Well, maybe it doesn't. I was going to write that I don't really want to write this but I am writing so I guess that means somehow I do want to write it even though I think I don't.
And now I'm yawning so I suppose maybe that means I want to go to sleep, but, no, I want to stay awake awhile to write what I don't think I want to write.
I didn't expect much to happen today. Nothing much did happen, either, but then again something did happen I'll remember. Maybe you'll remember too and remind me if I forget it someday when my hair's all white and I've got a big strand of drool down my chin.
A phone call woke me up at 11 this morning. I hear the phone ringing and reach out and knock the damn phone off the hook. I'm trying to rub my eyes with one hand while I'm running the other over the carpet trying to find the damn phone. Ceiling's still out of focus. I've got huge wads of Sandman goo in my eyes. So finally I grab the phone and prop it against my ear. Really, I figure the caller's gone by now, but no...
"Johnson?"
"What?" I say.
"Is this Johnson?"
"Huh?" I say.
"Is Johnson there?"
"Who the hell's Johnson?" I say.
"Oh, I must have the wrong number." Click. Wrong number? Damn it! I drop the phone into its cradle and lay out flat on the bed.
Hell, it's too early to wake up but too late to go back to sleep. So I stare up at the ceiling. A crack in the plaster comes into focus. The whole damn apartment is falling apart. I guess someday I'll wake up buried in plaster. If I wake up at all. Well, how crappy this building is gives us tenants something to shoot the shit about. We don't have much else to talk about. Not that I like talking to those freaks.
Finally, I can't stand staring up at the crack anymore so I slide out of bed. God, I'm tired.
I click on the TV and stumble over to the bathroom. I look in the mirror. Ugh. I look as crappy as I feel. I've got huge old sallow bags under my eyes. And my eyes, God, they're bloodshoot. Ugh. News. The news is on TV. I turn on the cold water and start splashing it on my face. They spend 30 seconds on the world news. Global warming... Blah, blah, blah... Suicide bomber... Blah, blah, blah... Nude animal rights protesters... I perk up at that.
I don't give a crap if everybody's naked under their clothes. I want to see people naked without their clothes. Yeah, I've heard we'd get bored with nudity if it were more common. Well, I think that's a load of crap. Let me tell you, I've looked at plenty of porn, and I still get a kick out of seeing a nice pair of tits, even slightly pixelated.
So I run back into the bedroom to the TV even though I know anything good's going to be all fuzzy but, no, they've already moved onto local news. Blah, blah, blah... Sanitation worker union members picketing... Blah, blah, blah... Juvenile delinquency up... I'm still kind of zinged up about the naked people even though I didn't see anything, but this boring crap is knocking my high down.
I drop down on the end of the bed and look at my toes and wiggle 'em a litle. I don't know why, but I've always liked doing that.
Dramatic music. I look up at the TV. Breaking coverage of a car chase. This is more like it. I've seen plenty of car chases on TV, but I still get a huge kick out of watching them. This white car keeps on swerving around vans and SUVs, must be giving those guys freaking heart attacks. I wonder what the hell he's running for. It seems like it's always some little crap -- speeding ticket, overdue library book fine -- that they're running from. I guess some guys just can't stand the police. Well, running from them is pretty stupid way to get away.
And then I recognize a building. Holy crap! The chase is coming right towards my place. So I get this crazy idea. I'm going to help the police. Maybe I was still a little tired or something, not thinking clearly, but I felt wide awake.
So I tie up the front of my bathroom and grab my keys. Wham! I'm out the door into the hallway, down the stairs, past some lady with two bags of groceries. I could see a bag of Funions on top. Christ, how can people eat that crap! I can feel her eyes on my back but I don't turn round. Then I'm out the door into the parking lot.
I'm at my piece of crap car. My hand's shaking as I unlock the door, throw myself behing the steering wheel and rev her up. I squeal round the building then drive out and park across both lanes of traffic. Some smart aleck, not the dude in the white car, almost slams into me with his Oldsmobile.
"What the hell are you doing, you stupid moron?" he shouts.
"Just doing my civic duty, sir," I shout back. I'm smiling, and I can tell it pisses the hell of him. He gets out his car. I jump out of mine too because I don't want to be in it when the guy the police are chasing slams into it.
Then we both hear sirens. On the other side of the block. Damn it! Through an alley I watch the white car fly past. A helicopter zooms overhead. Then a long line of police cars fly past. Fwoom. Fwoom. Fwoom. Then we can't hear the sirens anymore. The helicopter disappears into the smog.
He's staring at me. He's got kind of a nasty expression on his face. Then a little Toyota screeches to a halt just behind his car. The woman behind the wheel starts beating the hell out of her horn. That sort of jolts him out of his probable plan to beat the crap out of me. While he's still thinking about what to do, I slide back into my car, throw her into reverse, back round the building, back right into my parking spot.
I'm kind of chuckling all the way up the stairs. Maybe I shouldn't be. I know it would piss the hell out of me if he'd done the same thing to me. But now I'm really laughing and I fall back on my bed and stare up at the crack in the ceiling and I don't care.
"I'll make her pay." A soap opera breaks me out of my trance. The evil mother-in-law is looking for revenge. I sigh. Then I start chuckling again and that about brings me to where I was when I started writing.
Yeah, I'm pretty sleepy. So I'll stop now. My future self or whoever the hell does end up reading this, I bid you adieu and a fond good afternoon. Zzz.