When ya gonna ring it? When ya gonna ring it? PART 1
I awoke today with the painful realization that the human body is not meant to withstand what i had been doing to it. There was also the lingering truth that i would never again be able to enjoy The Cosbys in its original splendor.
It has been a strange week. It began innocently enough with a man asking his pre-teen daughter through a strong lisp if she would like him to read her the obituaries and now i am down a total of $450. Different aspects of this week have all blended together to form one large weird-memory-cassarole.
There is far to much clarity in retrospective vision.
Sometime earlier in the week i remember a drunken late night rendition of Hamlet. I was reading several parts as was Erin. Reading Hamlet drunk is an intense self-analytical experience. For example, i found out that when i drink i become illiterate. My associate had been celebrating his irish heritage and was in no shape to read so the job fell upon me. I have never been able to read aloud. One might as well ask me to diffuse a bomb or give a sponge bath to someones great great aunt. I never really know where or how to start and even when that part is taken care of, the rest of the experience proceeds slowly and painfully.
At some point later in the week my associates car was legally stolen by Earls Towing Service in whom i can find aspects of both ninjas and naziism. Earl has aparently been working in some dank basement over the course of the last few decades slowly perfecting the most quiet tow-truck ever. Earl is a classy fellow. Any attempt to describe him physically would be futile considering that i have never seen the man in the daylight or standing up. Since i have only seen him sitting down and at night it is only safe to presume that he is some sort of paralytic vampire, which kind of makes me pity him to a certain extent because aside from midgets he would never be able to reach peoples necks. He would have to persuade them into bending down and from what i have observed, Earl is about as charismatic and subtle as those beligerant Wal*Mart greeters that always yell something at you that is supposed to sound happy but there can be no happiness in Wal*Mart so it just comes out as a hollow cry for help. He makes a living by sneaking in and taking the second largest investment that you will ever make then charging you to get it back. I have never understood why he is so sneaky about it. If i were legally allowed to steal cars i would flaunt it.
But i digress.
Anyway, my associate has to work in the morning and has no money to get his car back from Earl (hereafter referred to as #1NASCARFAN) so i decide to let him borrow some money. I decided that i would pay with my credit card so that i would have until the end of the month to either figure out a way to get the money back or fake my own death. At this point we discover that #1NASCARFAN has not only gone up $15 from his previous price of $80 but that it also has to be in cash and in exact change (if anyone reading this knows anyone that works for the IRS they would have a field-day with #1NASCARFAN). After hours of thinking of ways that we could get cash through my credit-card at 10:00 PM me and my associate embark on an epic journey through hell itself. We go to Wal*Mart. I approach a cashier and ask "If i buy something with my credit-card can i get cash-back?" she then informed me that she could only provide me that service if i pay with a debit card. So i walk to the always peppy and upbeat customer service department ask if they gave cash refunds. I was then asked what the item is, to which i reply "Umm... TV?" and they then tell me that they can only give me store credit destroying my original scheme of buying a TV with my credit card and walking straight from the register to customer service to get my cash refund. My goal was to perform this action fast enough so that when i arrived at customer service it was still the time printed on the receipt. "Sir... you bought this... now?"
Anyway, i have no luck with my credit-card so i end up just going to an ATM at which point i find out that my apartment complex held onto my rent check and cashed two of them at once. I now have $350 less than i thought i did. The ATM only dispenses these little slips of paper that we often exchange for goods and services in increments of $20. So now we have to go find change. A convenience store would do nicely. As we approach the store my associate jokingly suggests a robbery; something that you should never do to a man who just lost $450. I chase away these thoughts as we enter the store. The guy behind the counter asks the required "How are you guys doing tonight?"
"Pretty fucking bad."
"Wow, that was blatant. Whats wrong?"
"My friends car got towed."
"Where?"
"Brookstone village."
"EARL!"
At this point another customer walks up and immediately joins the #1NASCARFAN bashing. Yes, #1NASCARFAN is possibly the most hated man in Wilmington.
So, now that we have change it is time to go pay #1NASCARFANs ransom. We park on the side of the road in front of #1NASCARFANs (hereafter referred to as "Earl" because i am hung over and that is much easier to type) business and wait for him to arrive. Meanwhile i stare in silent amazement at the hundreds of "NO PARKING. TOWING ENFORCED." signs that run the length of the short street like half-assed christmas decorations and i begin to truly understand the significance of the area. I had found the edge of the universe. While waiting we meet someone else who got towed that same night and when Earl finally arrives he has yet another car on the back of his truck. Scavenger of human misery.
Well, this blog entry is long as hell so i will divide the debacheries of this week at this point and label them as Part 1 and Part 2 respectively. I will also wait a while to write the second part so that i wont be nursing a hangover while writing it and this will also allow the events of the past couple of nights to fester in my brain like some divine tumor of prose.
It has been a strange week. It began innocently enough with a man asking his pre-teen daughter through a strong lisp if she would like him to read her the obituaries and now i am down a total of $450. Different aspects of this week have all blended together to form one large weird-memory-cassarole.
There is far to much clarity in retrospective vision.
Sometime earlier in the week i remember a drunken late night rendition of Hamlet. I was reading several parts as was Erin. Reading Hamlet drunk is an intense self-analytical experience. For example, i found out that when i drink i become illiterate. My associate had been celebrating his irish heritage and was in no shape to read so the job fell upon me. I have never been able to read aloud. One might as well ask me to diffuse a bomb or give a sponge bath to someones great great aunt. I never really know where or how to start and even when that part is taken care of, the rest of the experience proceeds slowly and painfully.
At some point later in the week my associates car was legally stolen by Earls Towing Service in whom i can find aspects of both ninjas and naziism. Earl has aparently been working in some dank basement over the course of the last few decades slowly perfecting the most quiet tow-truck ever. Earl is a classy fellow. Any attempt to describe him physically would be futile considering that i have never seen the man in the daylight or standing up. Since i have only seen him sitting down and at night it is only safe to presume that he is some sort of paralytic vampire, which kind of makes me pity him to a certain extent because aside from midgets he would never be able to reach peoples necks. He would have to persuade them into bending down and from what i have observed, Earl is about as charismatic and subtle as those beligerant Wal*Mart greeters that always yell something at you that is supposed to sound happy but there can be no happiness in Wal*Mart so it just comes out as a hollow cry for help. He makes a living by sneaking in and taking the second largest investment that you will ever make then charging you to get it back. I have never understood why he is so sneaky about it. If i were legally allowed to steal cars i would flaunt it.
But i digress.
Anyway, my associate has to work in the morning and has no money to get his car back from Earl (hereafter referred to as #1NASCARFAN) so i decide to let him borrow some money. I decided that i would pay with my credit card so that i would have until the end of the month to either figure out a way to get the money back or fake my own death. At this point we discover that #1NASCARFAN has not only gone up $15 from his previous price of $80 but that it also has to be in cash and in exact change (if anyone reading this knows anyone that works for the IRS they would have a field-day with #1NASCARFAN). After hours of thinking of ways that we could get cash through my credit-card at 10:00 PM me and my associate embark on an epic journey through hell itself. We go to Wal*Mart. I approach a cashier and ask "If i buy something with my credit-card can i get cash-back?" she then informed me that she could only provide me that service if i pay with a debit card. So i walk to the always peppy and upbeat customer service department ask if they gave cash refunds. I was then asked what the item is, to which i reply "Umm... TV?" and they then tell me that they can only give me store credit destroying my original scheme of buying a TV with my credit card and walking straight from the register to customer service to get my cash refund. My goal was to perform this action fast enough so that when i arrived at customer service it was still the time printed on the receipt. "Sir... you bought this... now?"
Anyway, i have no luck with my credit-card so i end up just going to an ATM at which point i find out that my apartment complex held onto my rent check and cashed two of them at once. I now have $350 less than i thought i did. The ATM only dispenses these little slips of paper that we often exchange for goods and services in increments of $20. So now we have to go find change. A convenience store would do nicely. As we approach the store my associate jokingly suggests a robbery; something that you should never do to a man who just lost $450. I chase away these thoughts as we enter the store. The guy behind the counter asks the required "How are you guys doing tonight?"
"Pretty fucking bad."
"Wow, that was blatant. Whats wrong?"
"My friends car got towed."
"Where?"
"Brookstone village."
"EARL!"
At this point another customer walks up and immediately joins the #1NASCARFAN bashing. Yes, #1NASCARFAN is possibly the most hated man in Wilmington.
So, now that we have change it is time to go pay #1NASCARFANs ransom. We park on the side of the road in front of #1NASCARFANs (hereafter referred to as "Earl" because i am hung over and that is much easier to type) business and wait for him to arrive. Meanwhile i stare in silent amazement at the hundreds of "NO PARKING. TOWING ENFORCED." signs that run the length of the short street like half-assed christmas decorations and i begin to truly understand the significance of the area. I had found the edge of the universe. While waiting we meet someone else who got towed that same night and when Earl finally arrives he has yet another car on the back of his truck. Scavenger of human misery.
Well, this blog entry is long as hell so i will divide the debacheries of this week at this point and label them as Part 1 and Part 2 respectively. I will also wait a while to write the second part so that i wont be nursing a hangover while writing it and this will also allow the events of the past couple of nights to fester in my brain like some divine tumor of prose.
posted by Seth Parham at 12:36 PM
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