Going Places

'We don't need you Dax. We have someone else who can do payroll. Oh by the way, thanks for teaching her everything'. Oh really. Imagine my surprise when my bank account appeared to be more flush than usual. The sillies paid me last week (more than usual) even though they laid me off last month.

Technically, the money is mine. If they want it back they'll have to go after me in Small Claims. But you know me, it was an honest perhaps ironic, mistake. So I'm going to pay back the money and laugh a lot - and then have a wee bit of a blub. I think I've made a few shekels of interest on it. The shitty part is that I just signed up for school again and would really like to use that money for a little while.

On top of that, Ali got a case of iwannas a few weeks ago. She couldn't care less that I don't have a job. 'I wanna see Backstreet Boys'. Done. 'I wanna see Daisuke'. So we're going to Boston to see them play the White Sox next week and also probably do a little shopping. Can't wait! 'I want chocolate. I want ice cream'. Well I want a blowjob. Some things just aren't going to happen babe. She got her ice cream, but I couldn't find any of those little chocolate pats they have at Starbucks.

We need a road trip again. I know we just had one a few weeks ago, but I'm sick of watching the Olympics. Ali is nuts for the Olympics. I guess I learn something new everyday. She doesn't care that she can't understand what the commentators are saying, as long as a Japanese athlete is kicking some butt, she's happier than a fat kid locked in a candy store.

Shar pei Foxy. Ali can be so mean sometimes, but it's this kind of stuff that makes her laugh. Her sense of humour is more warped than mine in many ways. Speaking of a warped sense of humour, I saw A Clockwork Orange the other night on the telly. I didn't see all of it, and maybe it was edited but I just didn't get it. I mean I get it, but I don't get what the big deal was about this movie. A former friend of mine told me that it was a really sick movie, one of the sickest he'd ever seen and that I should see it but also be prepared to be sick. Knowing him, and now having seen much of the movie, I find it hard to believe that it's one of the sickest movies he'd ever seen. I mean we saw Natural Born Killers together and that wasn't too bad but it was more violent than what I saw of Clockwork. Honestly, he'd seen worse things in real life as a soldier than what Clockwork had to show. Alex Burgess is cured at the end of the movie according to some viewers, but I don't get that feeling. I figure he'd just found another way to con the system and have his eggy weggs too. I've met many people like that.

Olympian in Training

Foxy is my girl. Know how I know? Because she already knows where to find the snooze button on my clock radio. Nine more minutes Foxy. Good girl.

I also know she's my girl because on Saturday night, when Ali was working a singles' cocktail party in her kimono I got to babysit. It was a little weird. Have you ever had one of those moments when you are driving in a neighbourhood where you used to live and the randomly chosen music on your car radio is the same music that you used to listen to when you lived there? I have. I've had a few of them actually. Anyway, I was driving around the old neighbourhood in a gentle summer rain and Flock of Seagulls came on the radio. At some point during that song, Foxy fell asleep. Gotta tell you, those were the best days of my childhood and now Foxy can enjoy the same experience.

I'm not sure if this also indicates she is my daughter, but this morning she woke up at her usual hour, and very quietly tried to dismount her crib. Usually she fusses and all, but this time I guess she didn't want to wake us. She didn't stick the landing, but the difficulty score must have been pretty high. Luckily she landed on our bed mattress, unluckily she used her face. I guess that damn crib is no good now. She only used it for about a month. I'll probably have to turn it into a bed soon.

Foxy 1 : Nappy 0

We had a one-in-200-year event as the insurance guys say. It was time for dinner. I came out of the den and in the dim light I noticed something small and possibly orange on the carpet. I assumed it was one of the many nasty silicone jellies that Ali insisted on bringing back from Japan. These are nasty because they are as my friend Calvin's mom used to say in her Ipoh accent, "Kiut kiut no use". They are also nasty because Foxy can grab them, rip them apart and ingest little bits of silicone almost at her whim. We can't have these things on the floor. Instinctively, I pinched it and picked it up. As soon as I did that, I realized it wasn't a jelly.

At first I thought it might be a wayward bit of baby food that she set free rather than eat. I held it to my nose. Indeed it was a bit of food she had set free, only she had eaten it first. Immediately, I looked to see where Foxy was. She was, as usual trying to push through the baby gate into the kitchen. Futile. Between her and me was the faux persian. I carefully scanned the rug to see if there were any more bits. None. Whew!

I called to Ali in the kitchen and told her that Foxy had pooed. She didn't believe me at first. How could I invent such a story about a toddler dropping a deuce at random? As if, right? No baby has ever done that. I encouraged Ali to survey the area outside the kitchen to see if there could possibly be any more. Sure enough. Ali freaked. Fortunately, there were only two and they didn't smudge the carpet. The rest was in Foxy's pants.

Without even thinking, we put emergency procedure number 7 into action. I jumped in the tub, ready to receive the fudgy baby, of course now bawling because of Ali's reaction to the discovery. I washed the baby, Ali washed the baby's clothes. Crisis averted. We should probably move a size up on the nappies. Only we bought an extra 200 case because we had a coupon. Ali's a bargain hunter. We've still got almost a quarter of that box left and Ali wants to get her money's worth.

Randy's Cat and an Apology

Busy morning already. I had an appointment with the insurance company so we could do a side by side comparison of the damage Pepper suffered back in June. The results were inconclusive, so I took the time to introduce myself to my neighbour - whom I have previously referred to as a douchebag - and apologize for all the trouble. Turns out he's a nice kid. Soft spoken, new here from Iowa and a little upset about not having peace of mind. Apparently the insurance company wouldn't even tell him who made the claim against him. We talked a little bit and I could tell right away that he was not happy. He explained that had he known/if he hit my vehicle he would have left a note. I didn't say it, but I think he knew that the insurance company had told me not to contact him directly. He was relieved and happy that his insurance wasn't going to cost another arm. Long and short, it's still considered a hit and run and it will cost me $300 to get fixed. Maybe I'll wait on that.

While I was waiting for the car to be looked at, I called Randy to tell him about the free passes we received in lieu of the Amal screening. There were some changes that I felt were important. His voice mail said that he'd be out of town for another week. Holy Shit! I gagged on my Starbucks. I hadn't checked his place since Sunday. The cat needed food and stuff.

In between the handholding with my neighbour and booking Ali's tickets for the Backstreet Boys in Atlantic City, I jumped in the car and booked it to Washington Heights. Randy's place was a mess. The cat was not happy and had wrecked the place. I replaced the water and the food and then checked on the animal. It was shy as always, but it did respond. Whew, it was still alive.

When we were camping, the running joke was that Bobby was a cat murderer because he was the last person to see his boss' cat alive when he house sat for him. Of course, not everybody felt it was a joke but they didn't want to face the facts about this particular cat. Anyway, we couldn't have two cat murderers in the family. Bobby's boss' daughter would never let it go.

Done Done and Done

Well, that's that I guess. I'm out of Canal St. and looking for a new job, but I'm also enjoying myself in the meantime. There wasn't much I could do in the end after a friend of the managing partner said she could do my job for free. My value was essentially zero at that moment. She later confided in me that she probably couldn't do it, but it was too late by then.

We planned for a farewell party, a small get together at a karaoke bar but it didn't happen because I had other plans. I was a little resentful that I would be missing a chance to sing some old favourites. My other plans were to go see Amal, a nice Hindi movie that sounded promising, starring Naseeruddin Shah as an eccentric wealthy man who discovers that he has only a few days to live and wants to find the most deserving heir in Calcutta the cesspool. Don't get me wrong. I've met some fine, very upstanding people from Calcutta. That's just how the promo scrip described it. The director, Richie Mehta or "Rishi" as the emcees would call him would be in attendance, quizzically still sporting a Veterans' Day poppy.

Also in attendance, unfortunately, would be an old classmate from high school. This particular classmate would be the first and so far the only one to go to prison. He beat some dude to death with a piece of rebar ostensibly due to a fight over crack. The last guy you would want to meet anywhere, let alone a soon-to-be darkened movie theatre. I'd see him panhandling every now and then, ever since I moved back to Newark. He'd call me Bobby. I'd try to look past him but he knew by the way I made eye contact that we knew each other. The guy was psycho in high school. I won't get into it, but it's so obvious in hindsight. So the other night, Randy and I walk into the theatre and before we even get in the door, the psycho has us scoped out. His recon is phenomenal. I guess that's a good skill to learn in prison. That way, nobody shivs you from behind. Anyway, he calls out "Bobby!" I grin because he's going to act like he's my best friend in the world and he can't even remember my name. He slaps me on the back as I brush past him, putting myself between him and Randy, and go to the end of the queue. When we got out of earshot, I told Randy that under no circumstances were we going to sit next to that guy. It looked like life was looking up for him actually, but then I dismissed it as the benefits of a life of crime. Later on his date showed up. I felt bad for her. She looked like a girl we went to school with. She must have known. He must have told her. I think it's one of the twelve steps. He didn't tell me, and even I knew. This is not a hard thing to find out. Pretty much guaranteed, you bash a guy's head in because you're in a crack house and you're so high on drugs that you think someone is trying to rob you - and you're stupid enough to get caught because you think you can lie your way out of it just like everything else - your trial is going to be covered at least by a stringer. You might not make the evening news, but the media are going to tell. Either way, she should eventually find out. I really wanted to tell her, but I guess even drug-addled vagrant psycho killers have a right to privacy after they've served their sentence. Label me a democrat.

That was all soon forgotten as the film started to roll. Close up of Naseeruddin Shah slumped over and sort of bumping up and down. Silence. Artistic effect I thought. Then someone front row left yelled "Sound!". Sitar music cut in and credits began to roll and I thought the film was going well so far. Then the film cut. A very embarrassed Richie Mehta got up in front of the audience and said that something was wrong with the audio. About ten minutes later the film started again. This time, Shah narrated from the beginning in English a little about the backstory. As the scene changed we were treated to Hindi dialogue. I still didn't see anything wrong with that. Just another Sunday afternoon for me. About two minutes into that scene, Mehta leapt to the front of the theatre and told the projectionist to stop the film. The distribution company had sent the wrong print. There were no subtitles. Mehta offered to act the movie line for line scene for scene, but said it wouldn't do the story justice. After some debate over how to proceed, he offered free passes to everyone who left tonight and came back to another screening. Randy and I took the offer, but a fair amount of viewers stayed. There were a lot of Hindi speakers there.

It was quite comical. I could just imagine how Mehta felt. He really kept his composure, although he did refer to the distribution compamy as a bunch of idiots. He had done the subtitles personally, and felt that the viewer needed to understand everything so that the little nuances could be caught. Mehta was very, very apologetic but I think the audience was very forgiving. Afterall, it was a freebie and mistakes happen to everyone.

Randy and I hit a nearby pizza joint and cursed the restaurant for making Newcastle Brown the special on another night. I had my first Kilkenny, and was pleasantly surprised at how smooth it was. It wasn't watered down, it came straight from a can but that cream ale is extremely smooth. Then I had a Lowenbrau and silently reminisced about my first Lowenbrau tallboy last summer and the film festival that went with it. Randy and I talked about stuff, the waitress fawned over us because I complained pointed out a slight discrepancy between the volume of the Kilkenny can and the promotional material provided by the restaurant.

Ekaterina came and picked us up in her and Randy's new car. We went out for coffee and talked about Kat quitting her job and then we were kicked out and they drove me home.

The next day, Ali and Foxy and I all piled into the car and took Pepper camping in Maine with Bobby, his boss and his family and four exchange students. Overall, given it was a new venue for all of us, and it was Foxy's first camping trip it went pretty well. Nobody lost any fingers or lost any toes. Nobody came home with ticks, except maybe the dogs so it was very nice and we look forward to it again next year.