Monday, June 14, 2010

The Wrath Of Fatdaddy

"From Hell's own heart, I stab at thee!"

Wow. Am I really quoting "Khan" from Star Trek?

If "high school me" were here he'd be kicking my butt. Since when was I able to quote Star Trek? That's the kind of crap that'll bring the shades of Vince Lombardi and Jerry Sloan snooping around here looking for my Man Card.

Nevertheless, it's the thought that came to mind on Saturday night at ten when the Boss got a call from one of her piece of dirt managers, who waited until then to tell the Boss that she wasn't going to come in for her three am shift.

Guess who had to go work her sixth shift of the week at a job she should no longer give a fat rat's patoot about? Nothing like one last cheap shot from the ingrates, huh? It was a real slap in the Boss's face and I don't mind saying it made me mad enough to spit. I told her she should have called her "Idiot" supervisor up and give him a taste of what she's had to deal with.

The conversation could go like this:

Boss: "Yeah, I know it's ten at night and you're getting ready for bed and you probably worked today already, but I don't have anyone to cover my closing shift. I think if I were you I'd set my alarm for about 2:30"

The Idiot: "No way am I doing that for you. You can go to Blazes"

Boss: "Sorry, pal, I gave Blazes my two weeks notice. Fire me if you want. Welcome to the world you created. Enjoy."

The Idiot: "Gee. This really is a crappy thing to expect of someone. Who knew?"


This is why they are lucky it was the Boss they employed instead of me. I'd have had that conversation.

But because the Boss is the compassionate woman she is... she went to work on two hours sleep and pulled her second nine hour shift of the day.

Savor the flavor, Clowns. It'll never happen again.

In fact, I have a feeling that about a month from now there is going to be significant weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth when the Clowns above and below realize just how much the Boss was shielding them from each other. By then, she'll be too far away to hear it, and no longer paid to care. I told you I can be bitter, but Karma can be a real beast.

Just ask my Cubbies.

They keep finding new and unusual ways to break my heart. Yesterday, I watched Ted Lilly take a no-no into the bottom of the ninth inning. I don't know when the last time a Cubbie threw a no hitter was, but the TV said there hadn't been one at Wrigley since before I was born. I got really exited as Lilly mowed down the eighth and called my mother to make sure she was tuned into something good actually happening to the Cubbies.

I mean, come on. I've been on a real roll with the Boss finding a new job, my eye sight returning...Miracles have been popping up like daisies.

"Mom!", I shouted into the phone. "Are you watching the Cubs game? Lilly's dealing a no-no!"

"I'll turn it on", she said.

Two pitches into the inning, Lilly tosses a looping off-speed pitch that I could have hit with my contacts out and it gets drilled into short center.

No-no abolished. "From Hell's heart..." I know, I know. I get it.

Five little words.

Loopy pulled Lilly for "Rocket-fuel Marmol", who immediately proceeded to walk the guy representing the winning run, balk the runners to second and third, and try to throw the game away.

I turned to the Boss, who was napping on the couch, and said, "Only the Cubbies could get within three outs of a no-hitter and then proceed to lose."

I called Mom again. "They will..."

"...break your heart!" she finished.

In spite of my bitter sorrow over the lost no-no, they managed to at least squeek out the win.

I guess I was due for one more miracle last week after all.

In spite of those two sour notes, I have to say it does not suck to be me right now. We went to dinner with my parents on Saturday night between the Boss's eighteen hour shifts. We went to the Buffet to celebrate the Boss's new job and the return of my vision. It was a very good evening. The kids even minded their manners.

I gotta say, you have know idea how trippy it is to be able to see street signs and pedestrians again. I even snuck in a joy ride around the block on Friday night.

Just because I could. I kept pointing to signs and reading them. The poor Boss was subjected to me reading inane things for the whole ride home from the doctor. It reminded me of when Peff learned his letters and annoyed us for a month by reading every letter he saw. Remember "Dad has two heart attacks"?

Look at this! Did you see that? When did they put that there? When did they tear that down?

I saw mountains and clouds, and the leaves on trees. I saw the TV from the couch instead of three feet away. I saw that the Rockband game I've been playing for a few years has little gray lines that mark the beat for you. I didn't know that.

I saw that my carpet is far dirtier than I thought, and I saw that what I thought was a grass lawn is really a mowed down weed patch. I also saw that I might have done the world's worst paint job on my living room. I can't believe the Boss has put up me doing such "fractional donkey"(think about it, you'll get it) work for so long.

"What, did a blind man paint this room?" Um, funny you should ask. I think I have some work to do. Or redo.

I saw the Boss is still as good looking as she was fifteen years ago, and I saw Squizzle clearly for the first time in his life. Thank heaven he looks like his mother.

I've seen a lot this weekend. It ain't perfect. The lenses irritate my eyes after about eight hours, and I have some glare in the left eye, but it's so much better than what it was, I don't care.

Hell can stab at me all it wants.

It's good to be me.

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