Hello,
How are ya'll doing? To those of you on the Texas Gulf coast, sorry about that lame hurricane forecast. That bad boy went from a adorable little puppy to a large cat with a bad attitude. And I know the reason for it - Cuba. Think about it. All the hurricanes that hit the Gulf coast come by Cuba who then, in some evil fashion, intensifies and directs it towards us by the authority of that despicable lap dog of Satan, Flatulence...ehhh, Felicio..ugghh, Fidel...yeah, that's it. He's always hated the US since the Bay of Pigs thingy and can't let it go. I imagine there will be a lot of people saying to his memory when he dies, 'So long, Fidel, and thanks for all the oppression'. Hope there is someone with more heart for the people to take over for him when he is gone. Probably not...too much political infrastructure in place already. Ahh, well...
And now it is time to share with you the fate of a certain pair of sneakers that had served me well for so long. You know of the demise of the other two pair from a previous entry. Due to the purpose of this journal, I am bound to relay this experience to you. A fair word of warning is needed at this point; the following may be rendered toxic by some and absolutely hilarious by others. Proceed at own risk...
As you recall, I was suffering from a ghastly evil from hell itself during several days in July, a sinus infection. That day in particular, I had ingested a Tylenol, half a sub from the deli and been drinking lots of water. It was late afternoon following a hours long heavy rain with the remaining day humid and hot. I was lying in the cab of the truck semi-conscious and altered position. And that's when I felt a twinge in my stomach; the kind that signals 'get to a bathroom NOW!!!' - you know the feeling. I got out, put on some sneakers, locked the truck and proceeded to the nearest bathroom which happened to be in a grocery store less than 80 meters away. It seemed that every step I took aggravated the condition and by the time I was walking down the grocery aisle, my legs were moving stiffly and I was exercising all my control to reach the bathroom. The intestinal distress was quite severe at this point. I almost made it. I was approximately 3 meters from the bathroom door when my body began evacuation protocols and continued as I reached the porcelain throne where it went on for several moments longer. To any ordinary human, the volume would be construed as horrific. Thank the gods that the bathroom was empty.
Now, I want to be absolutely clear on this, not to give you nightmares but to broaden your appreciation of what I had to contend with. There was 'biological material' on the floor outside of the restroom and on the floor on the inside of the restroom all the way to the commode as well as on the commode itself. I guess I am fortunate that gravity functions as it does or else the walls and ceiling would not have escaped unscathed. And said material was on my long legs, on my shoes and, needless to say, the shorts, too. To say that I was a mess would be the understatement of the decade. After my body gave the 'all clear' signal (HAAAA!!!), I began the process of cleaning myself up. Lucky for me, there was soap present and I was able to wash out the shorts. The tank top escaped unharmed. There I was, in a public restroom, naked, with 'material' all over the place and in significant quantities on me from the waist down, washing out my shorts and washing myself. It gets better. A couple of times a guy came in to use the facilities. Couldn't they detect the material on the floor outside of the restroom? And if so, was it courage or stupidity that they continued to proceed? Anyway, I told them that this restroom is closed and to use the women's if needed. It seemed that the sight of a naked, soiled man in a public restroom wold have been enough for them to expedite Escape Maneuver Plan Alpha but it took the sound of my voice for them to come up with other options. It took a few minutes to clean myself up and put back on the cleaned, damp shorts and unharmed tank top. At this time, I stepped out and got the attention of an employee and asked where a mop and bucket was. She said not to worry about it and that they'd clean it up. I replied no, that I would . She appeared flustered and said she would have to call somebody. Not waiting, I left her and went back into employees-only section of the store and located what I needed. During the cleanup, a male employee came by, took a look and was speechless. I told him that I would take care of it. He said thanks and retreated. He may be in therapy later as well as anyone else who noticed the mess on the outside floor. At any rate, several used aprons, 3 mop heads and 3 buckets of water later, the bathroom was clean and smelling nice. I put the used cleaning stuff in a garbage bag and went into the back again to dispose of it. I was walking barefoot toward one end of the huge area in the back when a guy at the other end yelled 'Hey, you!!". I turned and yelled back 'Hey, you what!?!' not in anger or embarrassment but so that he could hear me. At that moment, another employee said something to him and he waved never mind. After that, I walked out with my shoes, somewhat cleaned, in a garbage bag. I went to one of my 'hygiene' places and cleaned myself up thoroughly and changed clothes. I went back to the store to check my work and everything looked and smelled OK and I continued with my evening which consisted of lounging in the truck.
Let's pause at this point and consider how a person might feel experiencing something like this in the public domain. Hands trembling and voice cracking out of embarrassment and/or fear? Fearful of who would find out and that they would know you? Anger at one's self for lack of control? Just generally acute shame, enough to cut your own throat rather than deal with the ridicule? Guilt? Enough degradation to your self-image, self-importance and egotistical stance to move far away immediately? Like to Mars? Yeah, the smart money would have bet on those reactions to be exhibited by any civilized, educated person who was housebroken. I would have bet that way on anyone including myself and expected to win that bet.
But I didn't feel that way. Sitting there on the commode after receiving the 'all clear' signal, feeling immense physical relief, I looked at the carnage and thought 'another challenge'. I felt a cold indifference to resolve the situation to a more palatable conclusion. Standing there naked and telling those two guys to seek relief elsewhere, my demeanor was not of embarrassment or apology but of cold resolution, like I was on a mission from god. That mindset continued throughout the entire ordeal. Looking back, it was like I had something to accomplish and I didn't care about how anyone thought or felt about it. When I was putting the garbage away, a male employee came up to me and thanked me for the cleanup. For some reason, at that moment, I felt that I had to act embarrassed and asked if I could stay back here awhile to collect myself. He replied to take my time and walked off. I didn't; as soon as he was gone, I put the shoes in a garbage bag and walked out barefoot, not trying to sneak out hoping that no one sees me, but just walked out without a care in the world.
If that event had occurred in my previous life, I would already on Mars.
To conclude, the shoes did not survive - what a way to end a long and prosperous career but they had a good life. If I possessed a hand weapon, I would have done the honorable thing and shot them both to end their misery. Instead they went the way of the dumpster. The shorts survived and continue to this time though that dark day causes them to seize up at the most inopportune times. As for myself, no nightmares/bad dreams nor guilt, regret, shame or embarrassment. I still go in that same store (they have good deals on other deli sandwiches). I assume that all personnel are aware of the 'incident' and is doubtless now part of their new employee handbook and orientation and I don't care. I still talk with the ones I talked with before and the ones that gave me breaks before, still do now. Nary a word has been said to me about it. However, I have not and will not order that particular type of sandwich again though. I know...I know...that incident was due to a combination of things but I still will not partake of that sandwich again. Since then I've endured a couple of situations that would have caused me embarrassment or shame in days long ago but not these times. I can't think of any other human experience that I would be embarrassed or shamed of since enduring that incident. There has been a couple of social situations that would have ordinarily made me nervous; not those times. Maybe that's less psychological baggage I'm carrying around...
Don't say it...don't even think it. Oh, alright...I'll do that for you.
Shit happens.
Have a good weekend,
David
Friday, September 14, 2007
Monday, September 10, 2007
Homeless - 31
Hello,
It rained earlier this week for nearly an entire day and I ended up nearly sleeping that entire day away. It was pleasantly cool and the parking lot remained sparse with little traffic; a much needed rest. The nights have been much cooler and drier than the past several days and I've been resting well. There has been a couple of days that I had to wear a thin, long sleeve pullover for a bit - still went barefoot though.
I went by the post office to renew my 30-day cycle and was informed by a new employee that they only could hold mail for 10 days and that whoever was doing this could lose their job. I explained that this practice had been going on since May '07 with no problems and gave her a short version of my situation and added that the card that I've been submitting for this process had a 30-day hold parameter in the instructions with no other delimiting factors. She summoned her supervisor and he adhered to her point of view but I must grant that he had a more polished skill set of customer service skills. The situation was like I was talking to a couple of people where one said the sky wasn't blue and the other was saying there was no sky. Don't worry; I remained cool and calm. Clearly, the employee indoctrination process the postal service employs for new hires ingrains in them a type of logic that is beyond the ken of mere mortals. Before leaving I told the supervisor I'd be back with an address toward the end of the week, giving him time to find out what happened to the last month's mail. At one time, I had thought of applying there and was strongly urged not to; something about not wanting to read about me in the paper 'going postal' was the rationale. I'm glad I listened to their advice. That type of environment would drive me nuts.
I have a feeling that the birds in one of my 'pausing ' places have learned to recognize Black Thunder. Over the past couple of weeks when I would transfer a pack of crackers from its' original store-bought plastic/waxy container to a resealable plastic bag in a effort to prolong freshness, there would be some parts of the crackers left over that I deemed unworthy to carry forward. By the way, the reason that some crackers are cheap (a 4-pack box costs less than $1) is because they don't hold together as well or as long as the ones that cost $2. Anyway, the leftovers would be thrown in the parking lot less than 2 meters from my truck. I thought the birds might benefit from the refuse...and they do. Now, it seems that they gather around at that place when I'm there and I end up throwing some food product their way. When I catch a good deal on a sandwich ($1 for a huge sub), I pick the cheese off and throw it to them. They don't seem to fond of cheese though. More often than not, they'll look and peck at it and then look at me as if saying 'Is this it?'. And the discarded piece of cheese goes unattended. Part of the small flock is a crippled bird that I didn't see before. It had one foot missing, half a leg actually, and one of its' wings looked odd. It must have happened recently because the right leg wasn't strong enough to support its weight when it stopped to feed. It would sit down for moment to consume and then hop to another location and it seems braver than the rest in approaching the crumbs close to the truck. It feeds on the banquet with the rest of the brethren and when it was time to leave, it flies off with the rest of them. At least it retained one of its' important abilities.
When I go to the quiet pool, I usually have a large Styrofoam cup full of iced Dr. Pepper and it doesn't take the ants long to home in on it. One day I bought a lunch and had the idea that if I put a piece of food a couple of feet away they would go for it instead of the DP; they did. So when I eat there, I put aside a portion for them and they leave the DP unmolested. I noticed over the course of several days that they have gotten bigger so the hive must be doing better. They can strip the remaining meat off a chicken leg to the bone in a couple of days. Maybe they and their kind will remember me when they take over the planet, which they will, and instead of feasting on my whimpering carcass, they'll let me and BT alone. Probably castrate me though to reduce the probability of human repopulating...and retribution. So it might not me a bad idea for you to start forging relationships with the jungle friends in your section.
I called about a couple of part-time jobs that I spotted in the want ads but found out that they were a considerable distance from my 'range'. Oh well, the process goes on...
Later,
David
It rained earlier this week for nearly an entire day and I ended up nearly sleeping that entire day away. It was pleasantly cool and the parking lot remained sparse with little traffic; a much needed rest. The nights have been much cooler and drier than the past several days and I've been resting well. There has been a couple of days that I had to wear a thin, long sleeve pullover for a bit - still went barefoot though.
I went by the post office to renew my 30-day cycle and was informed by a new employee that they only could hold mail for 10 days and that whoever was doing this could lose their job. I explained that this practice had been going on since May '07 with no problems and gave her a short version of my situation and added that the card that I've been submitting for this process had a 30-day hold parameter in the instructions with no other delimiting factors. She summoned her supervisor and he adhered to her point of view but I must grant that he had a more polished skill set of customer service skills. The situation was like I was talking to a couple of people where one said the sky wasn't blue and the other was saying there was no sky. Don't worry; I remained cool and calm. Clearly, the employee indoctrination process the postal service employs for new hires ingrains in them a type of logic that is beyond the ken of mere mortals. Before leaving I told the supervisor I'd be back with an address toward the end of the week, giving him time to find out what happened to the last month's mail. At one time, I had thought of applying there and was strongly urged not to; something about not wanting to read about me in the paper 'going postal' was the rationale. I'm glad I listened to their advice. That type of environment would drive me nuts.
I have a feeling that the birds in one of my 'pausing ' places have learned to recognize Black Thunder. Over the past couple of weeks when I would transfer a pack of crackers from its' original store-bought plastic/waxy container to a resealable plastic bag in a effort to prolong freshness, there would be some parts of the crackers left over that I deemed unworthy to carry forward. By the way, the reason that some crackers are cheap (a 4-pack box costs less than $1) is because they don't hold together as well or as long as the ones that cost $2. Anyway, the leftovers would be thrown in the parking lot less than 2 meters from my truck. I thought the birds might benefit from the refuse...and they do. Now, it seems that they gather around at that place when I'm there and I end up throwing some food product their way. When I catch a good deal on a sandwich ($1 for a huge sub), I pick the cheese off and throw it to them. They don't seem to fond of cheese though. More often than not, they'll look and peck at it and then look at me as if saying 'Is this it?'. And the discarded piece of cheese goes unattended. Part of the small flock is a crippled bird that I didn't see before. It had one foot missing, half a leg actually, and one of its' wings looked odd. It must have happened recently because the right leg wasn't strong enough to support its weight when it stopped to feed. It would sit down for moment to consume and then hop to another location and it seems braver than the rest in approaching the crumbs close to the truck. It feeds on the banquet with the rest of the brethren and when it was time to leave, it flies off with the rest of them. At least it retained one of its' important abilities.
When I go to the quiet pool, I usually have a large Styrofoam cup full of iced Dr. Pepper and it doesn't take the ants long to home in on it. One day I bought a lunch and had the idea that if I put a piece of food a couple of feet away they would go for it instead of the DP; they did. So when I eat there, I put aside a portion for them and they leave the DP unmolested. I noticed over the course of several days that they have gotten bigger so the hive must be doing better. They can strip the remaining meat off a chicken leg to the bone in a couple of days. Maybe they and their kind will remember me when they take over the planet, which they will, and instead of feasting on my whimpering carcass, they'll let me and BT alone. Probably castrate me though to reduce the probability of human repopulating...and retribution. So it might not me a bad idea for you to start forging relationships with the jungle friends in your section.
I called about a couple of part-time jobs that I spotted in the want ads but found out that they were a considerable distance from my 'range'. Oh well, the process goes on...
Later,
David
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