So yesterday was Saturday and as Rebecca Black says in her very informational music video, "Sunday comes afterwards." So yes, another Sunday, another Blogpost.
Time is moving fast for me. Subbing by day, bouncing by night, and hanging out with my girlfriend on my free time is making time fly by. Last I knew it was September, now October is just about over. It's strange. Soon I will be heading to Vermont for a karaoke and Mustache-bash party. Yeah, you read it right. I am excited.
In other news, what the hell is up with this weather? We had a Nor'easter yesterday and it ain't even November. There was a heck of a snowstorm outside while I worked and it was really frikken cold. Felt like the middle of winter. What the hell happened to Autumn? I like Autumn. I hope it comes back and stays a little while longer.
Not that the weather stopped us from being busy at the club though, oh no, not on Halloween weekend. We were still packed by midnight with all manners of freaks and ghouls. Just off the top of my head, I saw Captain Morgan, Pillsberry do'boy, Lego man, 5th element girl, Dexter, Robin Hood, Batman, Superman, Clark Kent, two bananas, a box of wine, an 'Occupy' protestor, Ace Ventura, Santa Claus (what's up with that, right? It's not Christmas), Elves, Redsox players, zombie ballerina, basic zombie, etc. The list goes on. I'll admit there were some pretty good costumes but people be crazy going out during a blizzard, especially with little to no warm clothing on.
I'm just kind of rambling here, no idea or plan of what to write for this post. Sunday came fast and I've been busy, but that's not a good excuse. I guess every blogpost can't be awesome, interesting, informative and funny. Or any of them, for that matter. I'm looking forward to Nano starting and writing 1667 words a day, and creating a fantasy epic. We will see whether it becomes 'epic' or 'fail'. Is anyone else annoyed when people use 'epic' and 'fail' in real life? It irritates me. It seems like everything is epic these days, like that skate trick or this internet video or some other stupid thing. No, drinking a case of beer in a night is not 'epic;', throwing the fucking One Ring into the Fire of Mordor is. One is not like the other so stop using that goddamn word to describe things that are barely above being 'cool'. Please, use other words like 'Awesome', 'jazztastic', or bodacious. And stop using fail as a goddamn noun, alright? Saying this or that was 'fail' or 'a fail' is annoying. Just goddamn say it sucked or it failed or it was a failure, alright? All this using internet-speak in real life just makes us sound stupid.
Anyways, here's something I wrote.
I sat in my office, chewing on a toothpick. We weren’t supposed to chew on toothpicks in school, but then, I didn’t really care. I took another pull from my juicebox, feeling that it was almost empty. I’d need a refill soon. I was at my desk, blank paper in front of me, pencil in hand. I was waiting for a case, waiting for anything, really, when I spotted a movement.
There was alot of movement going on in the classroom, as it was choice time, so kids were playing with legos, drawing, and doing other silly things with their time. I was trying to do my job, solve a kid’s case or two, maybe get a quarter or a dime for my trouble. The particular movement that caught my eye was different, because it was aimed at me. Some kid was gesturing to me from behind the coat rack. Apparently he wanted me to leave my office and come over to him. I frowned. I didn’t really want to leave my office. It was nice, brown wood desk, couple chairs, and a sign I had made myself, plain white piece of paper with blue and red block letters saying ‘Office’, of which I was pretty proud.
I gestured to the gesturer to come to my office, but it was no use. He simply waved frantically, like a kid on Hawaiian Punch, so finally I sighed, finished my juicebox, tossed my toothpick in the trash and went over. I followed him behind the coatrack right by the door, so we couldn’t be seen by anybody, even the teacher. It was risky. If caught, the teacher would definitely send us back to our seats with a scolding, but I guess the kid wanted his privacy. And me, well the teach and me weren’t on the best of terms anyways.
His name was Nathaniel James Hawson, a mouthful of a name if I ever heard one. Today he was wearing a clean green polo underneath a red-patterned sweater and black dress pants. His glasses were gold-rimmed and thick, and he polished them nervously as he glanced around quickly. He seemed hesitant to speak.
“What do you want, Nate?” I asked.
“It’s Nathaniel,” he said automatically. He was a rich kid, daddy was the principal, mommy was a doctor, the kind of kid who’d gotten everything he’d ever wanted. I wasn’t sure how I was going to help him if his dad couldn’t, but if I could, I’d make more than usual, that’s for sure, maybe a couple dollars even, so I was willing to listen. I eyed the can of Dr. Pepper in his hand. Normally you weren’t supposed to have soda in school, all the mommy and daddy health nuts had complained, but of course, the rules didn’t really apply to Nathaniel.
“Nathaniel,” I said. “What do you need?”
“Want some Dr. Pepper?” He offered the can.
I hesitated. Yes, of course I wanted some of that deliciously sugary nectar of the gods, what kid wouldn’t? He was obviously attempting to butter me up before telling me something I wouldn’t like. Why else would a kid share? I took the can anyways and had a sip. That sweet carbonated liquid went down smooth.
“Now what’s this about?” I asked.
His eyes met mine for a brief second. “Pokemon cards.” Then he looked away.
I nodded, not surprised. Pokemon cards, of course. It’s all kids were about these days. They were big, huge even, kids looking to score the newest creatures, the best cards, trading and playing during recess, lunch, whenever they could get away with it. In fact, I had one of the rarest cards you could get, but few knew that and fewer knew where I kept it.
“And what exactly can I do for you?”
“It’s a...delicate matter. I need you to get a card back for me.”
“From who?” I asked but already knew. I felt something drop in the pit of my stomach and my mouth was dry, so I took another sip of the Dr.
“Butch,” he said, avoiding my eyes.
It was then I knew this was going to be the most difficult case I’d taken in my relatively new career, way harder than finding little Ricky’s lucky blanket. He’d just forgotten it on the playground. This was going to be more complicated than simply asking and looking around. Butch was the toughest kid on the block with an attitude to match, not to mention a couple of gorillas who’d stayed back at least two years and were known for stringing kids up by their shoestrings just for fun. I took another sip of soda. I needed it. The sickening sweetness made me fel alive, gave me some liquid courage.
“Alright,” I said. “Gimme the details.”
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