Sunday, August 5, 2012

How I Landed My New Job

It went like this: I was meditating in the gutter and I heard a motorcycle drive up. Only it was not the gutter – not really – and I did not know it was a motorcycle, either.

Here is why: Sometimes, I live in a small closet just off an abandoned freight elevator. The abandoned freight elevator is underground, under the ground of downtown Houston. So it is not really the gutter but is sort of the gutter. Dana calls it the gutter but Dana is not here.

Here is the thing about the motorcycle: I was meditating. It was sound. I did not label it “motorcycle” sound. Instead, my mind made a shape from the sound. From the texture. The texture was fuzzy but fuzzy the way metal shavings are fuzzy. Something like that.

The fuzzy rotating sound zhump-zhumped and then ended. After that came a clopping and a clang!  Part of me knew what the clang!  was and the clang!  was this: The clang!  was the metal doors over the freight elevator. Opening. But I was meditating and I did not label the clang!  as the metal doors over the freight elevator. Not right away.

Then, squeaking and rustling. My mind made the shape of a steampunk contraption. Part mouse, part hydraulic wheelchair, maybe. I knew what the sound really was. It was really the person from the motorcycle crawling down through the truck that hangs pinned inside the shaft of the freight elevator.

Then silence. Finally, words. “Nice digs! I thought you were Dana’s girl.”

I am Dana’s girl, though the property connotations of that statement do not sit well. And Dana is not here. For a few weeks, Dana and the kids are in a country less gay-friendly than Texas. Dana must work there, in the country that is too anti-gay for me to survive more than a few minutes.

I did not offer this information to the voice. But I did open my eyes.

She had bright red hair and cat eyes. The speaker did. She wore a gun in a shoulder holster over an expensive, fitted button-down shirt. Money, I suppose. She looked around, unconcerned, and she lit up a skinny cigar.

“So what did you find about me?”  she asked, apparently forgetting her question of a moment before. “Am I going to be running for City Council?”  She explored my little closet more.

I did not speak until I was handed the envelope with the cheque. I stood up.

The redhead was shining a flashlight down the elevator shaft.

I said, “You have been arrested multiple times.”  I said, “Once for assault. Once for DWI. Once for breaking and entering.”

She remained engrossed in the elevator shaft.

I said, “You’ve had your driver’s license suspended. You have been in rehab for poly-substance addiction. Fired from a major Houston law firm for violating its morality standards. Publicly flaunted your various and assorted unlawful habits and reckless behaviors.”

I said, “You shot a domestic house cat with a thirty-eight in your bedroom.”  I said,“On at least two occasions, you have had an entire work force walk out on you en mass due to intolerable working conditions.”

She offered me a skinny cigar. I declined. She moved around all of the time, surveying her surroundings, until finally she sat down on a bucket. I suggested she might not want to sit on that particular bucket. She stood back up.

She said, “So far, none of that sounds like anything that our recent Presidents haven’t done in their younger years. Hell, a couple of those things might even be electoral advantages.”

The redhead had found Saint Athanasius. Saint Athanasius is a tarantula who lives with me. She reached right in and lifted Saint Athanasius up and out of the cage in the proper recommended manner. Flipped over and cupped in the palm.

I said, “Look… Everybody I spoke with wanted to talk about you. Your family. Old boyfriends. Former co-workers. Even your current employees.”

I said, “Every single one of them was chomping at the bit to talk about how much they hate you. How you have ruined their lives. How they are lying in wait for the first opportunity to pay you back for what they feel you have done to them.”

Now Saint Athanasius, she did not like the smoke from the redhead’s cigar. Saint Athanasius, she was trying to get away from the redhead with the cat eyes. Just like everybody else, I guess.

I said, “You have to know all of this. This can’t be a surprise. Why would you even dream of trying to run for elected office, where appealing to people is a must?”

The redhead smiled at me, blowing smoke through her nose. She shrugged. “I’m a people person!”  she said.  

Then she walked back towards the elevator shaft. “Thank you, Katy. You are probably right about the public office idea.”

I was right about the public office idea.

With her career in politics now at an end, the redhead with the cat eyes looked undeterred from her other mission in life. “So, I need an odd jobs person around my law office. Research, investigations, animal control. That sort of thing. You interested?”

The conversation had taken a turn for the surreal. I said, “Have you been listening to anything I’ve said? Everyone who has ever known you told me that you destroy everything good around you!”

There was another shrug from the redhead with the cat eyes. “Pleased to meet you. Hope you guess my name.”

I stood there a moment. I looked at my shoes.

“Yeah,”  I finally said. “I’ll give the job a try.”

She moved to climb back into the vertical truck to leave. “Okay, Katy,” she said.  “I will see you Monday morning! 

“See you Monday morning, Adri,”  I said back to her.

Then she left. I heard the sound of a motorcycle starting up and driving away.

My mind was racing and I could not go back to my meditation.

I had a new job. I HAVE a new job. And that is how it happened. 

49 comments:

  1. otis rampaging heterosexualityAugust 5, 2012 at 2:39 PM

    Katy, you know that picture of you wearing the white top, does it pull down easily ? (the white top not the picture !).

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Depends on who is doing the pulling. Doesn't seem to budge for guys.

      Delete
  2. otis rampaging heterosexualityAugust 5, 2012 at 2:42 PM

    I like the bird wearing the kitty ears, that birds got a very sexy smile ! ! !.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. It would hardly be appropriate for me to look at my new boss that way, would it?

      Delete
  3. the sneering (homo-phobic) snobAugust 5, 2012 at 3:17 PM

    I dont like that first picture, its sort of like an artsy-fartsy kaleidoscopic image of faggots, YUK ! ! !.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. How much of your time on this site would you say you spend looking at the pictures?

      a) 5%;
      b) 50%;
      c) All of it; or
      d) There's something on this site other than pictures?

      By the way: I thought the tube socks really undermined any pretentiousness in that picture.

      Delete
    2. Hi, Crazy Mama. If he's not for real, he is certainly committed to the charade.

      Delete
  4. Congrats... I think, or perhaps just good luck. Take your pick.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you, Thurman. It might mean I'm not around here as much for a couple weeks. But I'm always up for trying something new.

      Delete
  5. Replies
    1. Katty, mind your shoes if you see this guy in Adri's office

      Delete
    2. Harry is currently "missing"...

      It apparently happens a lot.

      Does he steal women's shoes?

      Delete
  6. That white top would budge for me darlin`, i tell ya` ! ! !. By the way Katy, i like the pictures because they are usually quite good and i still keep hoping that one day you will post lots of pictures of yourself without your clothes on ! ! ! (preferably before your 30th birthday obviously).

    ReplyDelete
  7. high -- this was a fun read, goes good with coffee -- will be linking in my weekly magazine...

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you, GOODSTUFF! I appreciate all the shout-outs I can get.

      You can follow up when Adri "accidentally" kills me or something. I hear she's a WORD Terrorist.

      Delete
  8. So, Katy, did Adri return the spider?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Saint Athanasius is safe and sound.

      But see, this is why I have to discourage actual writers from frequenting my page. Y'all always catch stuff like that! There are almost ALWAYS little holes like that in my blog posts. I try and keep the posts 2-3 typewritten pages, and it generally means cutting out all the fluff.

      Delete
  9. Katy meets Adri. I wondered when this would happen and how it might go. Just don't be surprised if she calls you "Harry" every so often.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Obviously, I fashioned this after "The Flintstones Meet the Jetsons."

      If Harry ever shows back up, I can point him in the direction of a great Quik-E-Mart gig.

      Delete
  10. I wondered when Katy would meet Adri and how it would turn out. Don't be surprised is she calls you "Harry" from time to time.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Obviously, I fashioned this after "The Flintstones Meet the Jetsons."

      If Harry ever shows back up, I can point him in the direction of a great Quik-E-Mart gig.

      Delete
  11. And from forgotten rotten shafts under Houston her mechanical bats flew she concentrated hard but nothing she could do mused a murder of crows a dream of bats listened sharpened wings slice last night like they were screaming sharpened wings scream-ing.

    Dreaming of steaming at the bottom of a shaft upon a concrete floor she sat alone and eyed an odd reflection seeming from above the air was hot and dark and seeth-ing too deep baby can't get out sound was her breath-ing and something wheezing just a broken bottle but it was beam-ing (upon which she meditated wasn't mind-ing just know-ing she wasn't think-ing but un-winding she was trying).

    Remember last night bats flying they were sighing she sought advice in that gleam-ing thoughts coloured her mind was team-ing not scheming bats flying dreaming a-bout finding.

    In as much but always where they are gargoyles remind-ing there's no find-ing just dreaming and dream-ing words upon paper (no binding) fall upon the floor obscuring view blind-ing blinding bats dream-ing last night was just last night something else to do dreaming and blind-ing last night was just blind-ing dream dream last night bats blinding dream-ing about-you.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. THAT is what this post was missing. Very dark, psychological hip hop!

      I read through this twice and then rapped it. It made my day...

      Delete
  12. Sorry for the double comment. I am on vacation and doing this from my smart phone which is clearly smarter than I am. We are off to the San Diego zoo today. Want me to pick something up for you? I have to keep it under 50 pounds and able to fit in a large suitcase.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. I wasn't judging. just figured, you know, you're old. Maybe the eyes are going. Or the mind.

      We have quite the assortment of creepy crawly things around this house already. We are full up, even. My wife has been instructed not to bring anything else home.

      I'm hardly n the position to have a friend turn up with an ostrich or something.

      Delete
    2. Not old so much as impatient. Not a new affliction. The only thing I saw was a red legged Mexican trantula. However I didn't know I it would clash with your brown. Decoration with spiders is tricky. You never know what is too much.

      Delete
    3. Oh, I have an idea.

      I need to post a picture of my spider shelf.

      It could serve as a warning sign to others.

      Delete
  13. Congrats on the job, and good luck with the tasks involving animal control. Seems you have some animals around here to clean up, between the trolling, the guys that think they have a chance with a lady who likes the ladies, and the psychological hip-hoppin. Good luck!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. This place is turning into a zoo!

      I had to work today at the new place - which involves NOT being online so much - and I came back to a mess here. might have to go back to working a job that lets me lay online all day...

      Delete
  14. Sounds a lot like how my friend met her twin flame and decided to move to Boulder.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Life never happens in logical ways, does it?

      These things just happen.

      Delete
  15. Fabulous! just fabulous! That Adri ♥, she's one irresistible cluster f**k isn't she?!

    ( I need to follow the link to find out how St. Francis earned her second sainthood. )

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hi, Rob! If we are all very good boys and girls, we will be reincarnated after we die as TARANTULAS.

      Or, to be more specific, tarantula saints.

      Delete
  16. Congrats on the new job. And do keep writing as much as possible too.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you, Loafer!

      I've been writing a lot of different kinds of stuff lately. I don't know what I'm going to do end up doing with it all. Regardless, I'll be writing...

      Delete
  17. Congratulations on the two of you finally having met! It's always nice when my mutual friends meet.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hi, Cal!

      She can be a little intense for my blood at times, but overall, so far so good.

      Delete
  18. Unique way to land a job. Congratulations.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hi, Alex!

      My general rule of thumb is: If I can get an attorney to climb into a gutter, I will accept a job with that attorney.

      You ought to write that into one of your books. Maybe make the attorney a dragon.

      Delete
  19. Katy, why do you think Michael Moore chose to give his opinions about the shooting to that laughable British tosser Piers Morgan ?, wouldn`t it have been much better for him to have spoken to a fellow American ! ?.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. What most folks from other countries don't understand is, Americans assume that every British man is either Paul McCartney or Doctor Who.

      Obviously, Michael Moore thought he was agreeing to an interview with one of those them. It's a mistake anyone could have made...

      Delete
  20. Paul McCartney and Doctor Who are both worthless piles of garbage as well.

    ReplyDelete
  21. I was going to warn you about Jesus living in Adri's attic. Be careful if she every asks you to fetch something from there. Although Jesus was a liberal (on everything but divorce), so you might be OK.

    Considering both Sir Paul and the good Doctor have survived for decades, neither would qualify as rubbish. Piers and Benny Hill on the other hand....

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. And then there is Keith Richards, who is actually made out of rubbish, but it's fantastic rubbish - and at 68, he's managed to survive more than TWICE as long as Jesus did.

      Delete
  22. Piers Morgan, Benny Hill, and Keith Richards are all worthless piles of freshly excreted faecal material (phew...what a bloody loathsome stench ! ! !).

    ReplyDelete
  23. Your blog posts always leave me cheerfully nonplussed. I hope the job is going OK. And Forest of Fog is nice. Try Untergang.

    Oh, and I like the look of cat lady. She looks quite self-satisfied and predatorial, like an alpha cat. Is that a nose chain?!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks! People tend to have less to say about my better posts than my mediocre ones, they say. I like the ones where people sit there trying to figure out why I wrote it...

      Cat lady is my boss! I don't know if they'd let her wear a nose chain in court...

      Delete

Hey you! Why not leave a comment to tell me what you think of what I wrote?