REVIEW: MAYBE THE SHIT’S OVER?
by James MacLaren
Man, but it’s been a fucking lousy last week and a half.
Down at the ocean with Lisa (my girlfriend) and Jennifer (novice surfing
student), my roommate tracked us down the beach where we were sitting after both
girls’ abysmal experiences in the waves.
Had a funny look on his face.
Told us what was happening that September eleven morning and we all sorta
dazedly retreated from the ocean. Disbelieving. Literally. Roomy was talking
about a psychotic scenario the likes of which my tiny little brain just refused
to absorb. Ditto the girls.
Back at the surf ghetto and damned if his tv wasn’t telling the tale. Somewhere
along in the middle of all this, my son arrived.
We all watched the second building collapse and I angrily ripped the tv power
cord from the wall socket.
Everybody just sorta went their own ways.
Skipped work that day.
Skipped work the next day and had a rough time of it.
Sorta regathered on Thursday.
Friday, a tropical cyclone tore through town. In the morning, the sirens at
Patrick Air Force Base were howling as a tornado warning (and local touchdown)
ran it’s course. Roof in the apartment leaking like hell. Water damage and
The following Sunday, me and the girlfriend had a blowout and now she’s gone for
Things kind of sulked along until Wednesday, when my roomy duck dived a wave and
surfaced into a major feeding frenzy in the surf, and had a large shark hammer
into him. Fortunately, the fish got hung up on the fins of his board and merely
did a baseball bat whack to his thigh, with miscellaneous snaggle tooth damage
to the leg. No stitches. Didn’t get knocked off his board (but he came damn
close and there were other larger sharks attacking in the IMMEDIATE vicinity)
and successfully caught the next breaking wave to shore. His girlfriend promptly
lost her board and while he hobbled upon the sand, unable to go to her rescue in
the fish-churning water, he had a little trouble getting a bystander to get off
his dead ass and get out there on his board and bring her in. Blank stares and
full slacker apathy all around.
Slackers SUCK, in case anybody needs to know. Knock it off, you parasitic
Have we had enough bullshit already?
Just exactly WHEN is this shit gonna QUIT? I’m SICK of it. STOP already!
And so, today, when things turned a small corner, it came as an incredibly
welcome breath of fresh air.
Started out when some customers walked by me as I was doing the parking detail,
handed me a set of found rental car keys. No company ID, no tag number on the
key ring. All I could do was advise the management of my place, and also the
place across the road, that I’d been handed the keys and was going to hang on to
them in case somebody came by looking for them.
Several hours went by and nothing doing. Original folks who found the keys went
back by and were informed, no joy.
And then, about thirty minutes later, damned if a couple didn’t walk up and
inquire about lost keys. BINGO! It felt impossibly good to hand those keys over
to their rightful owner. The look on the guy and the girl’s faces was pure stoke
and I was feeding off their high. They attempted to reward me and it felt even
better to say, “It don’t cost a nickel extra to be nice,” and refuse any
reimbursement. Big smiles all around as they drove off.
After that, it started out weird when a cop pulled a car in off of A1A with a
headlight out. Cop out, ticket book in hand. Scribble scribble, ticket issued.
And then, something must have come over the cop. Next thing I knew, he was
lifting the hood of the car and rummaging around in the front of the engine
compartment. Fifteen minutes of dickering around under there and all of a
sudden, the car had TWO functioning headlights. Way cool! End of ticket. I
saluted the cop as he drove by and he tipped his cap right back at me.
And while the cop was having his change of heart, from out of nowhere a guy
comes up with a set of bagpipes (no I’m NOT making this up), stands twenty feet
away from my admiring ears, and proceeds to make the sweetest sounds this side
of heaven for a full half hour, seemingly entirely for my own personal benefit.
So ok, maybe all the bad shit has run its course and now it’s time for the good
stuff to reassert itself?
God, but I sure hope so.