Wednesday, December 23, 2009

A Criminal On the Run



    I'm nodding off in Starbucks.

    I'm reading and can't keep my eyes open. The store manager cruises by, checking me out. I have a stale cup of coffee in front of me for the past two hours. I get up, buy a sandwich, which is really fucking expensive. I forgot just how sturdy a bite Starbucks could put in your wallet.

    I return to my seat, work on more emails, read more of the New York Times, until my eyes start to droop sadly. It's only 6:00pm and I'm struggling with sleep. Finally, I swear to myself, if I nod my head one more time... just one more time, I'm heading home. I nod my head. That tears it. I wrap everything up, put everything away and head upstairs. I'm waiting for the elevator with some people and it goes up an stops on the sixth floor, and stays there.

    Now as we are waiting, coming through the mantrap of the vestibule of the building is a tall, fiery, flaming, fag. Hair pulled back in a DA, tall, skinny, switching his hips from left to right, the wildly gesticulating hand, bent at the wrist. Yes, that kind of flaming. He's loud and boisterous, talking steadily to himself, and then to the people who are waiting with me.

    He looks up at the elevator lights, walks over the the stairwell and shouts upstairs with this booming voice. "LET THE ELEVATOR GO!!" He walks back to the elevator. Suddenly Slick O storms out of his office. "Karl, you don't have to be doing that in the hallway!!" The fag responds, "Well that's the only way that they let the damn elevator go up there." "There's no need for all that damn yelling, Karl." Karl makes a pouty face. Slick O goes back into his office. Karl, mutters under his breath, "You don't live here....Killer," and then bursts out laughing.

    The elevator arrives and they all pile on. I wait for the next one. I'm tired of loud people taking the lead in shit, especially sound polluting my air. I ride upstairs and walk into my room. Silent, still, meaningless. I set up my laptop on the desk in its cradle, strip naked, clean dishes, make coffee (a whole lot of coffee for me today). I sit in front of a computer, my window to the world closed off by an electronic brick and mortar wall. I am saddened. I open up a novella that I've finished and slowly begin editing it, and not too far into it I start to yawn. My eyes start to droop, I get tired and so I stop everything and climb into bed. Unbelievable, caffeine has the opposite effect on me. It makes me sleepy.

    I pass out like a criminal on the run. I wake in the middle of the night 1:00am to be exact. Take a leak, work on my novella again for about an hour, slowly nod off, crawl back into bed. Wake up at 4:00. Get up, make coffee, and cake, sit in front of the computer work on that novella a lot, then crawl back into bed. I wake up at 11:30am, clean the kitchen and wait. There is nothing for me to do. I have until 2:00pm before these guys come in. Actually, under my desk is a living nightmare. Dust bunnies, dirt, dust, my devices all over the place. Besides, I'll have to hide the router and extra modem. If they knew that I was broadcasting their signal all over the building, bad things might happen. I don't think that they have the technology for flow control yet. If they do, they can train it on me, and my users would be stuck, because if my throughput goes down, my number of users will definitely go down because I will cut them the fuck off.

    No need thinking about throughput now. Time Warner Cable was supposed to be here today between 2:00 and 6:00pm. I could have gone for my walk and have been back in plenty of time. I should have. Instead I sat here and edited my novella, and napped. Two O'clock rolls around, finding me cleaning up my house, mopping the floor with a hand sponge on my hands and knees. I clean up under my desk, straighten out the devices there, wash them free of dust. 4:00pm, no Time Warner Cable. I make dinner, edit my novella more, use the bathroom a whole lot, always listening out for the doorbell. Nothing.

    I look at the modem, still the single light on the right, nothing else. Those pecks turned off my shit and they want me to pay for this next month? I'd better get a deep discount for all of this missed time. Six O'clock rolls around. I'm watching old re-ran movies on my computer. There is absolutely nothing else to do. No emails, no radio, no news, no FACEBOOK, no blogging....nothing. NOTHING. It's a shame that I have to to to Metropolitan Hospital tomorrow or I would be spending the time again back down stairs in Starbucks. Back online, doing my shit. I'm addicted to the Internet.

    I am addicted.

    HobobobSource URL: http://idontwanttobeanythingotherthanme.blogspot.com/2009/12/criminal-on-run.html
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