Sunday, December 02, 2007

...on the short list

on my way home this evening, i get a call from the chairman.

"there are fire trucks down by your apartment"

"is my place on fire?"

"i don't think so. looks like it's by tutto bene."

"ok i'll take the back way in. see you in a bit"

so the bastard does the nice neighborly thing and he calls the neighbors. neither of the girls answers him.

the chairman calls back and confirms that the bastard's home isn't on fire. when i get home, the trucks are still there and so is an ambulance. i go upstairs to drop off some laundry. and then it hits me.

what if the firemen aren't done?

what if it spreads?

i better take some stuff with me.

so here's the bastard's short list. now taken into consideration that in my car already, i have my ipod, my shopping bags from trader joes, and my phone is on me. so given all that i grabbed just:

my laptop

the portfolio which i prefer to refer to as "the book"

my laundry to switch

and my sidi motorcycle boots. they aren't the most optimum foot wear but, they are my most expensive.

then i walked out. knowing that if the place burned to the ground, the bastard could function. on the way out, i drop off laundry and some fat bitch (and i don't throw that kind of insult around lightly, i don't want to get scoop angry with me) opens the door to the laundromat, looks right at me, walks into the laundromat, and lets the door close on me. i hold out my palm so that the door makes a resounding slap. she barely resists the urge to turn and see what the sound is because she knows what it is. followed by the bastard saying,"thanks jerk", to which she resists again the urge to turn and respond.

but i am tired

and i have no resistance.

so as i get to the counter, i pass her, and bang the bag into her fat carcass. granted, it's a bag of clothes but the bastard will not be denied. after this i get in the car and an old man from the block gives me the stink eye. he's been giving me grief for a while (long story, i'll tell it later) and as i pull out of my parking spot with my short list of stuff, we lock eyes and i think of my other list.

the list of people that are going to fucking GET IT when i leave this block. and they will fucking get it good.

—the bastard

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