"Retrack the foosteps that brought us to this favor. I wouldn't ask this of you."
That damn alarm is really loud. I'm good at picking annoying things to wake me up. Coheed and Cambria usually does the trick. Why does their lead singer sound like a girl? Is that what people pass of for good music? Whatever. I'm up.
Take a shower. A warm one. It helps me with the waking up process. I suppose a cold shower would do better for that, but I always feel like jumping out of my skin after I dry off. Who would want to take a cold shower? Seems so counter-intuitive. I guess if you're really warm and need to cool down, but I usually find a pool or something. But I think I'd get funny looks if I jumped in the pool in my birthday suit and began scrubbing the gunk out of my hair.
I'm not a good cook. The culinary wonders I've been able to whip up usually come from a hamburger helper. But, I'm able to eat from a different country every night. Stroganoff Mondays, Cheesy Taco Tuesdays, Pizza Pasta Friday. On the breakfast menu, it was a choice between Captain Crunch or Lucky Charms.
"Sorry Cap'n, I'm going with the imitation marshmellows today. Maybe tomorrow, buddy."
I always liked how the cereal mascots were always smiling. In that universe, you couldn't even have a bad day. Even if kids were trying to steal your cereal, or just plain wouldn't share with you. Poor Trix rabbit, lord knows the last time he ate.
Phone rings. It's Nick. We go way back. Nick's saved me from more jams than I can think of. I owe him about seven of my nine lives.
"So, you up for it?"
"Yeah sure, when are you guys getting together?"
"Tonight, at Skip's. Around 8-ish. See you there"
*click* I hate Skip. He's the kind of guy who thinks he's one of the guys, but in reality it couldn't be farther from the truth. No one likes Skip, not even his mom. Skip just had that kind of personality. He was always wanting to help, but he just went about it wrong. He came off as creepy, not helpful. And the rapist kind of creepy too. You didn't want Skip following you home.
Turn on the TV. Good news, we're still in Iraq. My brother died there after only being in country for 4 months. Improvised Explosive Device, is what the official reports said. But, from what I heard from Danny's unit, it was friendly fire. Dumbass stepped in the line of fire when a few insurgents came running around the corner with an RPG. Danny never paid attention to his surroundings. I remember always being able to get the drop on Danny in snowball fights, paintball matches, hell even in chess. But Danny was different than me. He followed where his heart took him, not his brain.
Not me. I think too much. I think about thinking. That's probably why Nick's drug my ass back from Hell so many times. I couldn't pull the trigger. I had to think about it.
I turn the channel on the TV. Smilin Bob is on. He reminds me of Captain Crunch. Always smiling. I would too if I had a life like him. Whoever made that jingle is a genius. Usually whistling jingles annoy the crap out of me, but this one gets it right. Somehow I avoid changing the channel before watching the next commerical. Insurance guy asking me if I've been injured at work. I sarcastically reply to the talking man on TV.
"Why yes, I'd love my money from my structured settlement now, Mr. Wentworth. I will spend money to get it somewhere down the road. It's a good thing you're a lawyer and not a stock broker. I see right through you. You can't fool me."
Why do people who are advertising services on TV always seem like they are trying to fleece you of your money? Lawyers, Pharmacists, hell even the post office.
"Side effects of using yydgrasil include chest pain, possible spasms, and in rare cases, death. I think I'll just take my chances with my allergies...."
Wow, time flies by quick. It's already 6. I'd better grab something before going to Skip's. Ugh, I hate Skip.
I hit my favorite spot, McDonald's. McRib is back. Awesome. I wonder who made that up and how I'd like to thank them and slap them at the same time. You don't put pickles and onions on a rib sandwich, you bastard. It's good by itself. You smother it in BBQ sauce and you're good. Plus you have the ultimate back up if the sandwich sucks. Fries. No one hates McDonalds french fries. If they do, they're uncouth barbarians who go to uncivilized places like Burger King and Wendy's.
Jeez, it's 7:00 now. Better just bring my drink with me. No time for a re-fill. Yes there is, you're in no rush to get to Skip's place. Ughhh, Skip.
When I get to Skip's I see Nick waiting out front. He's leaning up against his car, trying to act all cool for any woman passing by. You're not fooling me either Nick. You drive your Mom's old Toyota Tercel. You have a better chance of asking a girl to go to your place on the bus than in that piece of rust.
"Hey. You get lost or something?"
"Yeah, they had a parade and I had to wait for it."
"Was it a nice parade?"
"Oh yeah, really nice. Wife and kids loved it. Josh laughed when the Spongebob float came by. He's into him now."
That was my attempt at humor. I don't think I was ever serious around Nick. But he'd know when I was. Or maybe not. I've never seen Nick not serious. I think I'd know when he was joking. Maybe not.
Skip was waiting for us in the living room, sprawled all over his couch. He took the words "laid back kinda guy" way too literally. He sat up when we entered and smiled his big goofy smile. He had way too big a mouth for his short stubby head. Everything about Skip seemed to rub me the wrong way. The only reason I liked Skip was because he gave me what I needed.
"What do you have for us today Skip?"
"I got a shipment that just came in from Colombia. My supplier tells me it's the real deal."
"How reliable is this guy?"
"I've been doing buisness with him for five years, and he hasn't two-timed me yet. Santiago knows how to treat his customers."
I laughed. Yet. Skip wouldn't be able to see it coming if the guy did decide to double-cross him. It'd be the lonliest funeral ever.
"Hey Skip, where's your bathroom?"
"You know where it is, dude. How long we known each other?"
"Too long, Skip."
"Up the stairs and to the right."
As soon as I get to the bathroom, I whip out my phone. I already knew that they were waiting outside. They had been for several hours. Just for the go-ahead. Skip was about to be double-crossed.
"Yeah it's me. I just got a hit on the name. Take 'em down."
Door busts open, unies come bursting in. They drag Skip and Nick to the floor and slap the cuffs on them. I come casually strolling down the stairs, with the largest grin on my face. Not because I had arrested the guy who had saved me many times to get me to this spot. I finally got to put Skip in his proper place.
Captain Harris walks in. He's a real weathered guy, been on the force long enough. That's why they made him the captain, probably.
"Thanks for all your hard work, Dectective. You've been working on this for a long time and now we have that bastard where we want him."
"No problem. It's my job, sir."
I look at Nick and smile. And for the first time, he smiles back. Nick was my partner. We'd been working undercover for the past 10 months. And for 10 months, Nick never smiled. He was never serious. I knew when he was serious. I was always serious, he knew when I was joking.
Get home. Crash on the couch. Turn on the TV. There's Smilin' Bob again. Now he's a race car driver. That guy has it good.
