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June 15, 2003
Diamondback
On the Great Plains near Denver lies a swath of dirt and concrete known as Buckley Air Force Base. For the time being, this is where I work. I was there recently taking measurements on a small shack so I can rebuild the roof, which collapsed during the great blizzard of Ought-3.
Approaching the building first, I jerked the right side of the double-door open and entered briskly examining the structure of the building. Jim, my trusty sidekick, followed me in, behind me and slightly to my left, and upon taking a step or two into the shack saw motion in his peripheral vision. About three nanoseconds later Jim's reptilian brain kicked in noting that (dark shed) + (rattling sound) + (motion in the eye's corner) = (get the fuck outta here). He let a yelp--something that sounded like "hamburger" to yours truly (It was almost lunch time). I quickly realized was actually, "ahh, rattler!" Oh Shit.
The snake was now coiled in the only doorway to this shack, hissing and rattling at me and my only companion was already halfway to Albuquerque. A fervid debate ensued immediately between my rational Homo Sapiens brain and my emotional Neanderthal brain.
Nea: Back the fuck up! Back the fuck up!
Sappy: Don’t listen to him, look where he got you last time. Make sure you look around to see if there are any more snakes in this room then slowly and calmly back out of striking range.
Nea: Back the fuck up! Back the fuck up!
Sappy: Ok. Remember: breathing = good, urinating = bad. Got it? Good.
Nea: Back the fuck up! Back the fuck up! AAAHH! What are you fucking stupid??
Sappy: Okay, now we have to think about how to get out of a one door shack by means other than the door.
Nea: YOU ARE ABOUT TO DIE YOU BLITHERING FOOL! LEAVE NOW!
Sappy: Two general choices come to mind: 1) egress by means other than the door or 2) get the snake away from the door.
Nea: [hard breathing]
Just then my sprinting friend shouted through the door, “What should I do, James?”
The only halfway intelligent sentence I could muster was, “make sure there aren’t more snakes outside the back window.”
“Okay.”
The debate continued.
Nea: Wait guys, I got it! I saw a movie once where this dude-
Sappy: Shut up. Movies aren’t real.
Sidekick: All good bro, no snakes out here.
Sappy: Okay. Find something to break out the back window.
Rattler: Ftttftftttftsttfttst!
Nea: Wait! You should see if the window is open.
Sappy: Sheds don’t have opening windows you twit.
Sidekick (leaning head through window) It’s open, dude.
I climbed out.
Nea: (condescendingly)…don’t have opening windows you twit. You think you’re soooo smart just ‘cause you that pies are squared and all that crap. Well, ya know what? I can spot a cute woman at 500 yards in .2 seconds while driving. Now who’s the smart one?
Sappy: [blink, blink]
Nea: That’s what I thought.
I spent the rest of the day recovering from having the shit scared out of me and reliving the moments to decide if the actions I took were the best possible ones. I eventually concluded that they were and, since I have plenty of free time, ran through slightly different scenarios so I’d be prepared next time. I wonder what movie Nea was talking about…
Posted by james at 08:26 PM | Comments (0)
June 12, 2003
The Beautiful People
Last night I saw a young beautiful couple walking down Ralston Road. The woman, a petite blonde, was holding hands with a tall athletic man. In their free hands both were holding cell phones to their ears.
I wonder if they were talking to each other.
Posted by james at 09:14 AM | Comments (0)
June 11, 2003
Frying Nemo
I went last night with a few friends to watch the new animated suspense thriller "Finding Nemo." At a strangely appropriate time in the movie bright lights began to flash just outside the lower corners of the screen. For a short second I thought "wow, I've never seen special effects that weren't actually on the screen before." Just then the part of the brain that tells me when to stop suspending my disbelief finally spat a neural message reminding me that those lights look very much like--no--exactly like the lights on top of fire alarms. Just then the movie screen went black and the room was illuminated only by fire lights flashing once for every two seconds. I heard 42 versions of the same conversation run together.
"Is this a fire drill? "
"Are we supposed to leave?"
"What is this, elementary school?"
As the ever slow herd instinct kicked in we filed out of the theater; not by the fire exit, mind you, moving that direction causes immediate blindness from the alarm lights, no exited from the direction we entered. Outside were several fire trucks, the whole Arvada FD if I'm not mistaken, taking their sweet time entering the building. Apparently no danger. They announced that the theatre would be closed for the evening and handed out several rolls of yellow tickets which were supposed to let us in for a free show some other time.
I immediately cued in on the haphazard manner in which the tickets were being handed out and realized that I could set myself up for a summer of free movies with only a small white lie: "...that's right, there were 19 people in my party. Thank you." As I stepped off to get my free tickets I heard a voice whispering in my right ear telling me not to commit such a horrible crime. I looked to my right and saw a wispy ghost like fish floating over my shoulder. It was Nemo. Apparently Nemo had been scorched to death and God had assigned him to be my conscience. Going back to work is going to be rough with a prepubescent handicapped clownfish whispering in my ear. It should be an interesting challenge.
My friend Jenny, true to form, suggested we walk to the bar for some margaritas. They weren't very good.
Posted by james at 08:46 PM | Comments (0)