Entering the office ,where I was booked to take the aptitude test, which would hopefully end with a large neon sign pointing me in some direction in my life, and if that direction has something to do with a rainbow and a pot of gold then hey, money well spent, I couldn’t help shake the nagging feeling that I had made a huge mistake. The aptitude test may be a waste of time, I was doing it more to placate others then for myself, but that wasn’t the mistake I had made, the mistake that was weighing heavily on my chest. Guy and Murphy had decided that they would go on to some nearby eatery for their post lunch, pre supper, meal, and Steven had asked if he could tag along with me, having forgotten his wallet and been banned from pulling that trick on the gang again, and so being banished from Guy and Murphy’s indulgent activity. In a bleary state of one who is having to keep an appointment that they don’t fully believe in I had said yes to Stevens request.
The first signs that this would prove to be a test of my will to live didn’t occur when we got to the office, but when Steven insisted on going home to change out of his “eating cloths” and into his “I might meet some hot chick cloths.” This outfit consisted of a pair of jeans and sneakers, and the main focal point of his get up, a t-shit he had borrowed from his brother. Now everyone borrows cloths from their siblings, its a way of doubling your wardrobe without spending any more money, generally unless you only have a sister, every guy does it. The problems do however extend beyond only having a sibling of the opposite sex. Steven was a case in point. His brother is 9. Steven is 24. He was wearing his brothers Spiderman logo t-shirt. The shirt could have had Harry Potter on it and it would have been fine so long as it fit, but a 24 year old man wearing a 9 year olds Spiderman t-shirt is blinding sight that was apparently for my eyes only today. He argued that it made him look bigger, stronger, more manly. It made him look like he was a very ugly, fat, teenage girl in a crop top. I made him walk a few paces behind me.
Entering the office meant my forced buffer zone was cut out of the equation. Steven ambling up to me and standing at my shoulder effectively ended any doubts that anyone watching would have had about us knowing each other. He was very clearly with me.
“You know you didn’t have to come down here with me. I’m perfectly capable of finding my way to and back from this place.” I said to him through semi clenched teeth, my stare fixed straight ahead waiting for some acknowledgement from someone who works here.
“Nonsense man, someone like you, who never leaves his sofa, you guys are easy pickings for people out here. Like guys like that.” He said, pointing at the man behind the reception desk.
Someone one like me? People who wear cloths that fit? I’m surprised no one has pressed a panic button, or got up and hurriedly left the place, with what can only be described as a white trash drug pusher slash paedophile walking in and pointing to people.
“Who? The desk clerk?”
“Yeah, but how do we really know he;s a desk clerk?” Came the answer from someone who has clearly been watching to many spy movies on TV and not eating enough fish.
“Well, he is behind a desk, and he does have one of those name tags on his blazer, those guys always have name tags. Lets see, name tag, blazer, behind a desk, yeah that’s good enough for me.”
“Yeah but how do we know its all real and…”
“Okay enough of this cloak and dagger stuff, the guy has been staring at us in his best “can I help you leave” pose, so lets get this over with.” I interrupted Stevens real life spy series rant.
As I explained to the desk clerk who I was, that I had an appointment, and apologised to him for bringing Steven with me while at the same time assuring him I had no choice in the matter, all done in a loud enough voice so that all gathered in the waiting room could hear, and maybe be put to ease slightly and not concentrate on the fact that I was about to go in to the back office to complete the test, and Steven would be left with them, a comforting fact to me, but a terrifying one for them I am sure. Either way I had a test to do. One that could help shape my path to fame and riches. Steven was now their problem.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Saturday, July 14, 2007
Chapter 10
When sitting with a group of friends who have ordered what appears to be the lunch menu in its entirety there are few things you expect to hear, like boy this food looks great! Or pass the salt. Anything to that affect. What you don't expect to hear is what came out of Guy's half filled, chewing, mouth, the words I mean not the food being sprayed around the table as he tries to talk and at the same time make sure he doesn't miss out on any of the food he paid a bit for.
"So what we gonna do for lunch?" he managed to blurb out.
I'm sure had he not been trying to justify the price tags on the food he would have actually said
"so what are we going to have for lunch?" He's generally a well spoken and articulate kind of guy but the combination of fighting for a meal and talking about a meal got the better of him this time. The brain slows down under the duress of some thoughts and activities and clearly food is what does it for Guy. Considering his manners have gone out the window I could clearly rest my case in court. This is the very same person who once shouted out "A little etiquette" to a group of people who were maybe talking a bit too loud for church on a night out. That was greeted by laughter and teasing. Mainly by us. His red face and defeated look where well worth the stares from other people digging our way.
"It's almost half one genius." Was my clever reply, cause you see he isn't a genius, I was mocking him. Clearly I am the genius. I sat back with a smirk that would have gotten the dog in trouble, confident that my message was received.
"So? What's your point."
My confident smirk was wiped off my face.
"We're eating now. Well we are eating and then talking, while you are eating and talking at the same time, trying to save time or just be disgusting, I really don't know, but the thing is we are eating at lunch time, this is lunch."
He must have got that, right? I mean he has to be pregnant or have worms to be thinking of eating lunch during lunch right? And I saw that documentary when I was younger, you know the one where Arnie has the baby? Danny Devito was in it too. That was a good educational programme. So I know that science can make men get pregnant. Guy likes science. He wants to a vet, or a tree guy, or something that involves science. Maybe he is pregnant? I hope its not worms. That's just gross.
"Lets get pizza" chimed in Murphy.
My little trip into my head, thinking about the pregnancy issue or worm problem, however fleeting it was, had given the other chimps the opportunity to jump in unsupervised.
"I don't know, Pizza, Italian, Chinese, cereal, I'm not sure what I feel like." said Guy, responding to Murphy's pizza suggestion.
A response. this was dangerously becoming a conversation, one of their stupid, pointless, stringing together of thoughts and ideas, that may or may not be linked, into a conversation about nothing that seems to take over and become everything to them. At least it was only two of them. If Steven joined in and this conversation became a group discussion I was seriously in danger of losing my mind.
"Pizza is Italian right? I mean I know its basically global, but you can still get it in an Italian place right?"
Just like that Steven added to the conversation, which was now a group discussion. I think it, fear it, and it happens. One of the things that makes me certain that there is a God, and that he has a wicked sense of humour. Well played god, that's another point to you. You always lose when you go up against someone all powerful, but hey don't hate the player.
"No one mentioned French food. We never get French stuff. What is French food? I mean I know you get french salad but there's more to french food then salad and wine right?"
"There's bread, the french have bread."
"And snails and frog legs."
It was hard to tell who was saying what anymore, they just flowed from sentence to sentence like an enormous, annoying, wave about to crash into me.
"We never cut up any frogs at school, you know, like how they always do on T.V.?"
"I don't think they do that anymore, maybe green peace or tree huggers or something got them to stop."
"You guys see they cut down that tree, the really big one that used to leave leafs and stuff all over the street."
Okay I had to put a stop to this.
Reaching for my coat I got up and scooted my way past Guy and Steven to the freedom that was not the booth. I hate sitting and booths when you have to scoot to get past people.
"Where are you going? We're trying to figure out where to go for lunch." was the anguish reply from GuyMurphySteven, the three headed beast.
"Well what ever you decide it'll have to be in town somewhere cause I have an appointment there soon."
"What sort of appointment?" Quarried Murphy, with no mention of food.
"Yeah, how's your prostate?"
Everyone turned and looked at Steven, who really couldn't understand why we were all suddenly paying him attention.
"What? He said appointment."
"Okay, I'm getting one of those aptitude tests to try and give me an inkling of an idea of what exactly I should be doing with my life, apart from listening to a discussion about lunch during lunch. Oh and Steven, don't sit near me."
"So what we gonna do for lunch?" he managed to blurb out.
I'm sure had he not been trying to justify the price tags on the food he would have actually said
"so what are we going to have for lunch?" He's generally a well spoken and articulate kind of guy but the combination of fighting for a meal and talking about a meal got the better of him this time. The brain slows down under the duress of some thoughts and activities and clearly food is what does it for Guy. Considering his manners have gone out the window I could clearly rest my case in court. This is the very same person who once shouted out "A little etiquette" to a group of people who were maybe talking a bit too loud for church on a night out. That was greeted by laughter and teasing. Mainly by us. His red face and defeated look where well worth the stares from other people digging our way.
"It's almost half one genius." Was my clever reply, cause you see he isn't a genius, I was mocking him. Clearly I am the genius. I sat back with a smirk that would have gotten the dog in trouble, confident that my message was received.
"So? What's your point."
My confident smirk was wiped off my face.
"We're eating now. Well we are eating and then talking, while you are eating and talking at the same time, trying to save time or just be disgusting, I really don't know, but the thing is we are eating at lunch time, this is lunch."
He must have got that, right? I mean he has to be pregnant or have worms to be thinking of eating lunch during lunch right? And I saw that documentary when I was younger, you know the one where Arnie has the baby? Danny Devito was in it too. That was a good educational programme. So I know that science can make men get pregnant. Guy likes science. He wants to a vet, or a tree guy, or something that involves science. Maybe he is pregnant? I hope its not worms. That's just gross.
"Lets get pizza" chimed in Murphy.
My little trip into my head, thinking about the pregnancy issue or worm problem, however fleeting it was, had given the other chimps the opportunity to jump in unsupervised.
"I don't know, Pizza, Italian, Chinese, cereal, I'm not sure what I feel like." said Guy, responding to Murphy's pizza suggestion.
A response. this was dangerously becoming a conversation, one of their stupid, pointless, stringing together of thoughts and ideas, that may or may not be linked, into a conversation about nothing that seems to take over and become everything to them. At least it was only two of them. If Steven joined in and this conversation became a group discussion I was seriously in danger of losing my mind.
"Pizza is Italian right? I mean I know its basically global, but you can still get it in an Italian place right?"
Just like that Steven added to the conversation, which was now a group discussion. I think it, fear it, and it happens. One of the things that makes me certain that there is a God, and that he has a wicked sense of humour. Well played god, that's another point to you. You always lose when you go up against someone all powerful, but hey don't hate the player.
"No one mentioned French food. We never get French stuff. What is French food? I mean I know you get french salad but there's more to french food then salad and wine right?"
"There's bread, the french have bread."
"And snails and frog legs."
It was hard to tell who was saying what anymore, they just flowed from sentence to sentence like an enormous, annoying, wave about to crash into me.
"We never cut up any frogs at school, you know, like how they always do on T.V.?"
"I don't think they do that anymore, maybe green peace or tree huggers or something got them to stop."
"You guys see they cut down that tree, the really big one that used to leave leafs and stuff all over the street."
Okay I had to put a stop to this.
Reaching for my coat I got up and scooted my way past Guy and Steven to the freedom that was not the booth. I hate sitting and booths when you have to scoot to get past people.
"Where are you going? We're trying to figure out where to go for lunch." was the anguish reply from GuyMurphySteven, the three headed beast.
"Well what ever you decide it'll have to be in town somewhere cause I have an appointment there soon."
"What sort of appointment?" Quarried Murphy, with no mention of food.
"Yeah, how's your prostate?"
Everyone turned and looked at Steven, who really couldn't understand why we were all suddenly paying him attention.
"What? He said appointment."
"Okay, I'm getting one of those aptitude tests to try and give me an inkling of an idea of what exactly I should be doing with my life, apart from listening to a discussion about lunch during lunch. Oh and Steven, don't sit near me."
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