Desperately seeking bottom.
Page 33 of 39
"You did NOT sleep with her," I said.
"Yeah, I did," said Stu. "Two times. What a wild ride, lemme tell you about it..."
I interuppted and said agian, "You are lying."
Stu's beady eyes didnt even flinch.
"May I adjust my remarks?" he asked. I said "sure." He looked down and said, "Yes, I'm lying."
As a historricol figure Spiro Agnew is usualy portrayed as a shady crook but in this book it tells how with strenghth and grace and dignity he solmemly absorbed the facts from the President's now-reformed but at that time cold-hearted hatchet man that it was time for him to resign. And boy when Nixon asks you to resign, well thats got to really suck.
I am not passing judgemant on what consenting adults do in private. The issue here is deception. And Stu was decieved.
"I...I met her on the street of all places," he stammored, wringing his small pink hands. "Her Adam's apple should of tipped me off," he sighed, slightly dabbing a rathor painfull looking lovebite on the side of one jowl.
"I shoud have remembered your grandfather's rules: Check the feet, and then the neck."
He took a deep breath, and gaized out at a 747 takin off from the airport just a halfmile away.
"Yes, and as an Internet Marketer, I can endure, and have endured, and will continue to endore all humbling humiliations, all fraudulent masquerades, and all passionate surrendors of the heart. And I suppose my soul too, if I even had one.
"Most of all--and I dont say this lightley Walt, and I dont know if youve evor noticed, and when what I am about to say apears on your webpage, I ask you not to water it down, nor do I care that it might come off as too preachy--most of all--might as well tell the truth here: I am a goddamm pig."
The next morning Stu was back to his old self like nothin hapened. (So was my stomoch: It felt like I had a car battory in there. It ached and pained.)
But as far as Stu, and what hapened the night before: he never broght it up to me again.
"Hey Walter," Stu asked, as the plane began descent, "I never asked how the meeting went with Rent-A-TempGal(R)."
I said, "It sucked."
I did howevor tell him about the Boss's comments on getting "granular" and how our "Granularity will Make a Splash that will Impact the Landscape." And also about Meeting our Targeted Actionable Milestone objectives to Collapse The Supply Chain..
"Those Milestones are our Deliverables," I said mattor of factly -- not knowing entirely what the hell I was talking about -- also mispronouncing 'deliverables' as usual -- and, all the while thinking to myself: Oh God, I coud not beleive I was actualy starting to TALK like this.
Stu laughed. "Did you at least have FUN?"
I said no. I did not go into detail. I did not like the people, I thoght the offices were very cheap and shabbey. I am no fashion plate but even still all the corporate oficers there wore cheap suits and polyblend stretch slacks. I did not like gettin hollered at.
Worst of all, I did NOT like BEING an actual Rent-A-TempGal(R). Being "sold off" to a danm temp company as an on-site temp was extremely hummiliating. It is a good thing I was only going to work for those basterds for the two weeks of final notice I was about to give them when I arrived back in Texas.
Stu shrugged. "I dunno. Thier marketing guy, who I golfed with is a great guy."
I laughed. I do not laugh ofton. (In fact, I NEVER laugh.)
I said to him, "So what shoud I do, Stu? STAY as a Rent-A-TempGal(R)? STAY as a temp at Cyberblop?"
Stu shrugged agian, and looked out the window. He said, "You might like being a Rent-A-TempGal(R). I mean, a Rent-A-TempGal(R) employee."
Slightly shocked, I reminded him that I just got a HUGE job offor from a fantasticaly cool company right down the road. But Stu replied casualy, "You never know. I heard a rumor they might change their name. You know, drop the 'girl' thing, which they already recognize as being kind of demeanning."
He spoke without emotion, and even a bit evaisively. Well I tell you what: What was demeaning was the sugestion I STAY at Rent-A-TempGal(R) -- and for that mattor, also at Cyberblop, where I woud be working for Rent-A-TempGal(R) on site.
Stu turned to face me. Nasty semi-clear liqoud streamed from his now infected love bite, and it sparkoled in the blazing sun. "Think about it, Walt. Think about staying on. As a temp, at Cyberblop."
I know he meant well but I was highley insulted and very pissed. And very very hurt. I was practicaly trembling with quiet rage, hurt feelings, a sudden wave of insecurity, and even a measure of shame that I had disapointed my freind and lost his confidence.
Madison, Ripke and Blankenship were there, the first two of them tryin their best to restrain the old basterd while Blankenship poured what looked like minerol oil into his ear.
"Ach! I missed! 'Tis all over the bluddy rug!"
"USE A FUNNEL, YOU DUMBASS!" Granfather screammed. I was so upset by Stu's comments, I didnt pay mind. I knew all of a sudden what was going on. A fruit bat had flown into the old basterd's ear. The more you try to dig it out, the deepor it burrows in. That is why they use oil, so the small flying mammal will back out of the rancid stinking wax encrusted creviss on his own.
"Poor wee fellow," clucked Blankenship, "He's nigh as frightened as we are, Aye."
The only coment I did make was to warn them that Granfather's slashing jaws were biting down in his worst possible most dangerrous bite: His Ass Bite. Blankenship shoud know bettor, cause he was recently the victim of such. He is lucky alls he lost was half a glutemi too. Elswewhere on the body that Bite, his worst, was potentialy fatal. Granfather's Ass Bite coud snap a hickory Louisville Slugger in two.
"Y'ALLS THE ONES WHO SHOULD BE FRIGHTENED!" Granfather howled. "I DON'T CARE ABOUT A DANM BAT IN MAH EAR. IF METAMUCIL ISLAND GITS SUNKED, I'LL DO WORSER TO YOU THAN I PLAN TO DO TO THE COUNTY CLERK!"
As soon as the old basterd stop screaming, I heard the slow deliberate scrape of heavey feet stomping up the slow rickety stairs of the front porch. Granfather froze, and his eyes bugged way open with glee. He was as attentive and currious as a wide eyed kangaroo rat.
"I KNOW THAT SHUFFOLY WALK," Granfather whispored.
"IT'S THE CORONER. HE'S HERE TO TELL ME THAT ONE O'MAH HATED BROTHERS--LORD WILLING, BOTH THE SUMBITCHES--ARE DEAD!
"IT'S CELLYBRATION TIME!" he creid, springing up to his feet and pushing the criptoes aside. Quickely, he shoved two fingors way up his nostrills, and forced himself to sneeze. A small terrifed bat flew out of his ear trailing a greenish tail of waxy mucus. It flapped nervously around, bounced off Madison's forhead and flew out the window.
"THAR'S YER DUMB BAT, YOU DUMB-LOOKIN HALF-ASSED DUMBASS" he grumboled to Blankenship -- (who indeed frowned painfuly and knowingly at the true words "half assed.") Granfather contineud his cruel tirade. "I COUD OF LOOSED THAT BAT ANY TIME I WANTED. I JEST DIDN'T WANT TO."
"NOW LETS SEE WHUT THE CORONER HAS TO SAY! MY NICKEL IS ON WILLY FIRST, AND ZEKEY NEXT WEEK! HEE HEE HEE!" The horrific basterd ogre licked his lips in happy hatefull desire, and loped over to the front screen door with the joyous, slightely limping gait like a trained, elderly, arthritic chimp chasing after a sugar stick dangolled on the other side of the cage.