Thursday, November 17, 2005

I used to...

care about what people thought of me. Now that I am an old man, with old skin and wrinkl-ey balls, I could give a rats ass about anything. I still haven't decided whether or not this is a good thing but I refuse to give it more than a moments consideration. With out further ado, I will here on out keep it real like strep throat, DUI's and boners in math class.

Monday I came home from work and for whatever reason, I was extremely tired. I'm talking tired like after the first day of a summer job, tired like after playing rugby with Rip Van Winkle keeping time, tired like you had to walk home from college. I hung up my jacket and keys and retired to the bathroom to take my, "Thank Christ today is over and I can just relax" piss. I marveled at the amount of foam for several seconds and then waved good bye to the steamy goodness my excretory system had so graciously provided for me.

I walked into the living room and collapsed into the most uncomfortable recliner in the world. Most days and even some nights, drunken or otherwise I'm able to at least grab a nap or some quality pass out time. The recliner was grumpier than my floor model-sized body and refused to let me get comfortable. Reluctantly, I got up and made my way upstairs, where the bed of doom awaited me. Normally, I try to stay out of my bed, unless I am sick or retiring for the night. Otherwise I have a tendency to spend way to much time unconscious.

I undressed to boxer briefs and t-shirt and fell much like Schwartzenegger in Kindergarten Cop into my bed. I pulled my fleece blanket and down comforter over me and expected that to be all she wrote. 30 seconds, one minute....two...five...fifteen and I'm still awake.

WHAT THE FUCK?!?

I was cursing the grumpy recliner for not letting me get some winks in. "Is that to much to fucking ask" bounced off the walls of the coldest bedroom in the history of bedrooms. I tried reading Harry Potter. Nothing, I tried reading the Bible. It was no good. Now I was too angry to fall asleep. I had some sleeping medication left over from a darker time in my life but it was downstairs, would give me a vicious hangover and would take 45 minutes to kick in.

THIS IS BULLSHIT...I JUST WANT TO TAKE A NAP!!!

There are so few things I ask for that I didn't think a nap was a huge request. I layed there. I tossed and turned and fought with the covers and fought with myself. Finally a light bulb went on over my head I figured out the answer to my problem. I needed to masturbate. I had neither the energy, nor the desire but I knew as soon as terminal velocity was achieved, I was as good as unconscious.

And so...

My thoughts descended into the nether regions. Professional women in Volkswagens, massage therapists, girls I had known in college, Judith Light from, "Who's the Boss" Sarah MacLachlan, Ashley Banfield, teachers from highschool, midwestern girls from college, preacher's daughters destined for hell, co-workers, the night time shift supervisor, Nia Vardalos, the actress who played counselor Troy on Star Trek Nine Inches Deep, Dr. Cox's ex-wife on Scrubs, Anna Kornikova, Faith Hill before she decided to stop eating, Jennifer Aniston, the mom from, "Grounded for Life".........

........and that's the ball game folks.

I exhaled something to what I think a death rattle would sound like and curled into the fetal position. My blankets creating the rest of the womb around me. I was relaxed and warm and all was right with the world. I would like to be able to get a read out of my brain activity in those post coital moments. I'm sure it looked liked just like the equatorial divide on any globe. I slept. I knew I was asleep but I was so comfortable, I didn't care I was wasting my free time. I was sleeping the sleep of the just and life was good. I enjoyed my sweet repose, unfettered by worries or stupid dreams.

Now, here is the part of the story where the author wants to mention the fact his brother has moved in with him. The author would also like to mention God likes to play funny little jokes on Jackass when he is at his most vulnerable.

BOOM...BUNG...BOOM...BUNG...BUNG...BOOM...BOOM...BOOM

It was as if God set up his dj booth in my bedroom and decided to get the party started. I woke with such a start that all I could do was scream. I thought my brother was coming up the stairs singing and was going to walk into my room and find me in a distressing state of undress. I managed to cover myself and then realized it was not my brother making the loudest noise I have ever heard. My windows...No FUCK THAT MY HOUSE WAS SHAKING!!! An earthquake or some fucking horrible disaster was going down and I was going to die with so much left on my, "To do list".

The onslaught continued but I noticed it had sort of a musical timber to it. It didn't matter to me. I was terrified and without my wits. I picked up my alarm clock and beat it like it stole something from me. After several solid punches, the noise continued, and I was on the verge of tears. WHAT THE FUCK WAS GOING ON?!?!?! I heard the only noise I could discern out of the whole audio assault, a truck door closing.

I jumped out of bed and ran to the window. Peeking out through the blinds I saw a Hummer backing out of the neighbors driveway and into the street. My windows still rattling like they wanted to get out. I then watched the young cheerleader walk into the house as if nothing were wrong.

Now knowing what struck such terror into me, I was fucking ANGRY! I crawled back into bed and tried to calm myself. My heart was still racing and after several minutes, I knew I was not going to be able to get back to sleep. My very nice mellow and calm state, something that is a rarity for me, was ruined by some spoiled, suburban asshole kid, in a vehicle they have no business driving, slumming it, yet gaining street cred by dropping their friend off in the 'hood. I swear if I had a bazooka, that Hummer would have cooked my dinner.

I pulled on a pair of flannel pants and a tshirt and went down stairs to make dinner. My flip flops made a soft but consistent swoosh as I glided around the kitchen. It wasn't music but it was enough to keep me from focusing on how angry I was. In the course of preparing dinner, I managed to fill up the trash. I tied the bag and took it outside. I met the cheerleader and her mother. We are normally very polite and cordial to each other and in a lot of ways I could not ask better neighbors, but I was on fire in my brain and stomach.

"Hi Jim, howarya" mom says.

"Well I was doing good up until about a half hour ago" I said.

"Why what happened?" She asks.

I can see sweetie pie start to squirm.

"Well I had kind of a shit day at work, so I figured I'd take a nap and relax before dinner" I said

"Well that sounds nice" she says

"Yeah it was until I was woken up by fucking rap music so loud I though it was the end of the world. I sleep right there, and pointed to the bedroom closest to the drive way." Seriously that shit is not right, not to mention illegal. I said.

She looked at sweetie pie, who didn't even have the decency to say she was sorry. After a minute she told her daughter to go inside. "You know Jim" she says.

"Look I said, I have no problem with you or your family but I am furious right now and I don't want any excuses or answers. You know how stressful my job is and all I want now is, to go in and have my dinner and try and grab some peace and quite before I need heart medication. Have a good night."

She looked at me as though I was having anal sex with her daughter in front of her, with her daughter enjoying it. Mouth gaping open trying to think of something to say. I wanted to tell her to go and pray about it, but really my issue was not with her. I put the lid back on the can and went in to wash my hands, slamming the door behind me.

There was a knock at my back door about a half hour later. I didn't move from my office. I was on my time and I was semi-calm. Talking about anything was only gonna get me more fired up. When I walked out the back door for work the next morning, I found a note on my windshield.

"Jim, We're sorry for what happened last night, Please come and talk with us so we can resolve any issues. Have a great day at work. Sincerely, The Dipshits Nextdoor."

She was trying to sneak a peek at me through the blinds but my training at the Agency, is amazing and she is not so slick. I crumpled the note up and threw it over to their side of the fence.

No discussion, not now, not ever.

I hope you all are well.

Cheers,
JJ

4 comments:

surly monkey said...

Wow! You really did bring the post thunder.

I've said it before, I drink to avoid the fustration of not being able to sleep but naps are a whole different game. Along with uncomfortable chairs.

Living in the trailer park we have our fair share of idiot neighbors. But they are generally smart enough to keep their car stereos down. If not, I'll throw shit at 'em. Fuckers. I would have taken one of the weapons from the Agency and showed that kid some real street cred. Actually I probably would have just glared at him.

Be well.

Anonymous said...

you made tossing off sound like getting high. kudos!

n.v. said...

He was tossing off? I had no idea.


JJ, people in Hummers are vile. I'm not sure who the cheerleader is or why you are so angry with her mother, but . . . ??

Great post, anyway.

JackassJimmy said...

D-

Cheerleader's mom is insane. She is the neighbor that washes my house for no reason twice a day and cuts my grass, "cause she's bored."

Cheerleader is her too nice daughter who has strayed from the highway to hell.

Thanks for coming back.

Cheers,
JJ