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Waking up was the last thing Larry wanted to do. For all he knew, this could have
been the last day of his life. It might be the first day of something new, a new phase, a
chapter. Moving one inch out of the warmth, with his girlfriend to his side, was not what
he wanted to do at that time, or at any given time. Moving the blanket, and heading
towards the bathroom for the morning ritual, he knew there was no way to turn back. He
had gone too far.
He looked around the sink and saw that the toothpaste was close to running out.
Larry was the kind of guy who could go for weeks without brushing his teeth, and he
would disguise it by eating his favorite stick of gum. He figured if he was chewing, his
friends and co-workers would see that he’s busy and wouldn’t bother asking him about,
well, anything. Larry was that kind of guy, devoted to his job but only for the paycheck
every two weeks. He’s the kind of guy, your normal every day guy, who enjoyed his job
simply to see the women everyday and the kind of clothes they wore. He wasn’t a
fashionable man, but always wanted to look nice and clean, that much he knew. But
when it came to other women, he wanted to see them dressed as best as possible, if only
to know what lurked underneath. Yes, Larry often said to himself, “I have a girlfriend,
but I love ankles”. He was also smart, and knew that ankles could never love him back.
Larry observed the images in the mirror, and felt he was ready to brave the brand
new day. He kissed his girlfriend on the forehead, not wanting to disturb her but...
“Oh, Larry, good morning. You’re leaving so soon?”
“Yeah”, he said to Cheryl, “I had heard on the news last night there was some
road construction on 82, so I want to have a few minutes before I may get caught up in
it.”
“Okay baby. You already had something to eat?”, Cheryl said, now sitting up
with the blanket covering her legs.
“Nah, I have an apple. I’ll see you later today, okay?”
“Sure.”
They kissed, this time on the lips, Cheryl’s lips now having the slight taste of
mint.
As Larry looked around him as he drove out of the garage, he had wondered for a
brief moment how it would feel to drive to work backwards. “I’m sure people have done
it before” he thought, “why couldn’t I?” To prove something to himself, he made it out
of his driveway, and attempted to go down his street backwards. Even at this time of the
morning, someone was out witnessing this unusual situation.
“Larry, bra. What you t’ink you doin’?”
“Oh no”, Larry thought, “it’s fricken Charles. Why can’t I go through a morning
without hearing him...”
*TAP* *TAP* *TAP*
“Bugga you, bra. Where you t’ink you going, ass backwards li’dat? You might
go huli ova da hill if you no watch out. You wen’ go okole maluna o’ wot?”
Ah yes, Charles.
“Hey Charlie, how you doin’?”
Charlie, which sounded more like Cholly, what friends, family, and neighbors
called him.
“Me, I go watta da yahd. I get donuts. I get coffee. I get milks. Me, I no worry
but I worry, because you know why?”
“Why Charlie?”
“Because you backin’ up, me back up watch you, then you back up watch. How
you goin’ on the freeway, at 70 miles po’ awa, withotu getting hit? I see you already, you
go too fas’ and den POOM! Bugga you, you not goin’ make it with Cherie or make baby
for see chirrens.”
“I just wanted to see how it would feel. I wasn’t going to go too far.”
“Too fa, too nea, too many, that’s the Polynesian law firm, t’ree bruddahs, all goo
fo nothin’. You goin’ work normal?”
“Yeah, I was going to turn around anyway.”
“Good for you”, said Charlie, a jolly, chubby man who always had a smile on his
face. He stayed home every day after coming out of the military and claiming disability.
He spend his days fixing cars and tending to his yard, while paying child support for his
daughter. His dialect comes from Hawai’i, and just like the comfort food he often talks
about during get togethers on the weekend, he said the way he talks when he feels good is
comfort talk. In a work or business situation, that pidgin English, or what he called
Hawaiian creole, would go into hiding for a bit.
“Hey, watch da roads, ah? I heard get constructions.”
“That’s why I’m leaving early today.”
“Goo fo’ you, bra. Take it easy bra, rock steady.”
“You too, Charlie”.
The freeway seemed fairly clear, so it looked as if Larry was going to have a
stress-free day overall. But then the thoughts came to him. Car payments, health care,
the rumored threat of people in his department being laid off, he faced roughly nine hours
of bullshit on a daily basis, yet it all boiled down to him being a foremen, and him getting
paid for being the boss. If he didn’t have to work, he would be fishing, or fucking. Or
both.
He turned on the radio, and was going to listen to Howard Stern when the radio
started playing a song he couldn’t stand.
“Oh baby, baby, how was I supposed to know
That something wasn’t right?”
“Shit!”, Larry thought. “How come these words pop up at the most unusual
times?”
Seconds later, Larry found himself behind some traffic, which fortunately was
close to the offramp he needed to get on. It was some time to think, as Britney Spears
danced in his imagination. It was temporary solitude for someone who worked too much
for nothing. But it was one less bit of worry he had to deal with, at least for now.
BRAND NEW T-SHIRTS: Support Our Loops
http://www.cafepress.com/mufalaka
http://www.john-book.com
http://www.myspace.com/crutmusic
THE RUN-OFF GROOVE: my column
http://www.musicforamerica.org/node/92853
THE AMPLIFIERZ: yes indeed
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