#217: What About Brian? Year Five

The people I used to work for cocked-up and hired too many people so they made up an excuse about Spanish-speakers and laid me off. That's always fun. So what's next for me? Aside from job hunting, I figure I will do a lot of reading and writing. I'm working on Part Three of Wilbur and Kolak and trying to write a replacement first novel which I'm not sure will work out because I'm kind of thinking of doing something else as a replacement first novel but I will see how far I can get into it before I decide which direction I want to go. I'm also thinking of going back to my roots. I have a couple short stories I need to get written because I think their plots are just too good to waste. I'm also considering doing more stuff regarding history around where I live and of course begin really doing research for 87, that historical fiction novel set in the 1860s and 2000s.

But as for long-term plans? Hopefully some form of school. I've decided that I do want to do journalism but use that to help me write my books, especially in the research department. Even though it seems as if the world of journalism is shrinking (newspaper circulation dwindling, TV news becoming more and more polarized and people just not wanting to hear anything they don't want to hear) but if anything, it's also expanding because there are so many mediums out there. I would prefer to work in the newspaper industry but would be willing to work for a news company that's on the Internet. The main thing I want to happen is that I don't want a job anymore. I want a career, something I can actually do without fear of actually being out of a job. Sure, you can get laid off from a newspaper but you submit resumes to other newspapers or online news agencies whereas the job I am currently more qualified for: call center/customer service, those don't offer the security one might think. You could be working in one for over four years doing just fine then all of a sudden, based on the same criteria that is deemed acceptable by the employer, you are being told by the non-human automaton that is Human Resources that you are being terminated because your "good enough isn't good enough" anymore. In journalism, you do tend to get a do over before your article goes to print.

Someone actually suggested that I become a teacher. But not only a teacher, a teacher of...wait for it, middle school kids. I have never really considered becoming a teacher but when it actually crossed my mind several eons ago, I more pictured myself teacher roughly third or fourth graders. I get the appeal of middle schoolers: get 'em before they become douchey high schoolers. I honestly can't see myself being a teacher, especially to kids that old, because I'm not good speaking in front of a large crowd. Small crowd? Bring it on. I've gotten a lot better at speaking in front of crowds, I don't know why. Maybe because I'm getting older and feel my opinion is worth more than it is. Or maybe it's just because in order to make it in this world you have to be able to toss the shit around with people, no matter how much it may stink.

I don't know exactly know what the next year will bring or what will happen but here's to a good 2010-11.

Until next time, I remain...
~Brian

Harvey Pekar 1939-2010

In this special edition of Thursday Comics: I know this is late but American Splender writer Harvey Pekar has passed away at the age of 70. Pekar's wife found him dead in their Cleveland, Ohio home. Although no cause was determined, Pekar had been suffering from prostate cancer.


Here is a two-page comic written by Pekar with art by Robert Crumb.

Harter Union: Part Five; Chapters 6 & 7

During the summer when there were no college students to serve, we usually had a variety of guests that kept us employed. Early in the summer was usually an alumni week followed by a gaggle of young cheerleaders ranging from age 13 to 18. After that was kind of slow and some years we would have some one-timers come. One year was a group of Boy Scouts and another was a huge family reunion which I enjoyed watching. In July was our biggest summer group: The Institute.

The Institute was another group of highly religious people but they were actually able to make it all fun somehow. Although they required a lot of things, the food basically had to be prepared exclusively by Kathryn and for an hour and a half during each meal, they wanted complete silence from the kitchen to pray and read scripture and just tell stories, like a church service, so the staff would go downstairs at that time to the game room and watch TV, or play pool, or just sit and talk. This was also our first year where they required us to wear uniforms. Bright yellow shirts with the Institute logo on the right breast. They were ugly but it was a mandatory requirement for which we had to oblige. It was also the one two week period where everybody had to work, everyday.

I enjoyed talking with a couple of the reverends and I even sat in on a couple of church services with Melissa, who actually used to be very religious. Amazingly, I got on the good side of one of the reverends and he chose me to read a Bible verse to the group which I naturally declined but somehow was able to finagle me into doing it anyway.




It was the day before my big speech and I was a nervous wreck about it but somehow I still managed to play a mean game of pool. “Next victim,” I said as Jason tossed the pool cue to Nathan.

“I think a man who plays a good game of pool is incredibly sexy,” Stephanie said, eyeing me with half closed eyes. Everyone looked at her confused. “What? I do?”

“I think a man with a horn growing out of his head would be considered sexy to you,” I laughed. “And you can stop hitting on me. You’re not my type.”

“Can you blame me for trying?” Stephanie smiled.

“I can,” said Melissa, coming up and hugging me from behind.

“So are you ready for your big Bible verse reading?” asked Wendy.

“Of course not. I don’t know why they chose me for this. I’ve never read the Bible and I don’t know if I even believe in God so I’m one of the last people they should’ve chose for this,” I explained, finishing racking the pool balls.

“You should be treating this as an honor, Jefferson,” said Heather. “What passage have you decided to read?”

“I Corinthians Chapter 13,” I revealed. “It’s the only part of the Bible I know by heart.”

Nathan sank in a couple of balls as I looked at my left wrist that did not have a watch on it. Emily came down and poked her head into the room. “We need to get back upstairs. They’ve finished.” We all put away the pool stuff, turned off the TV and went back upstairs.




Melissa was always soft. I had never felt any girl as soft as her. Being with her—inside her—felt new, yet familiar and making love to her in the darkness of her bedroom, lit only by a nightlight in the bathroom, made it seem like the very first time.

Her sharp exhale of breath rang into my ear and echoed in my brain as she met her rhythm with mine. Her hands ran through my hair, down my back and her nails cut into my skin. “Ah! Where’d you learn that?” I asked hoarsely.

“It just feels so wonderful being with you. Am I hurting you?”

“No-no. I kind of like it,” I said, and began thrusting harder.

In Overland Park, Chrissy and Jesse had just gotten done and were lying down, talking. “So how is work going?” asked Jesse.

“It’s going fine. Right now we have the Institute which are a bunch of really religious people so…”

“You won’t have to confess anything like what we just did will you?” Jesse asked, joking a little.

“No, of course not. Only Jeff has gotten close to any of the reverends and he actually has to read a Bible verse tomorrow. We’re all making fun of him.”

“I want you to leave that place,” Jesse said abruptly.

“What?”

“Leave and move in with me. I can take care of both of us,” Jesse offered as he sat up in the bed.

“I don’t know. Moving in together is a big step and…” Chrissy caught Jesse’s eyes looking down on her and smiled. “All right. I’ll put in my two weeks and move in with you.”

“Wonderful,” Jesse said, leaning down to kiss Chrissy. Chrissy pulled Jesse on top of her and the two began making love again.

Back in Baldwin, Alyson was bent over her bed with Nathan standing behind her, grabbing her butt and slamming his hips against her. Her screams and moans were starting to get louder so Nathan slowed his movements and spoke, “Are you okay? Want me to stop?”

“God, no. This feels good. Wendy is probably wondering what we’re doing,” Alyson said, gasping between words. “I love you, Nathan.”

“I love you, too,” said Nathan resuming his hip motions.

And at Wanda’s trailer, both Wanda and Heather were in a separate bedroom with guys they met in Lawrence. Wanda was on top of hers while Heather was underneath and twisting the bed sheet off. It was a quiet night in Baldwin City and for once it seemed everything was right with the world.




Chapter Seven
Melissa, Wendy, Aaron, Nathan, Heather, Kepler, and I were standing off to the side listening to Reverend Ira DeSpain conclude his reading. “Are you ready?” asked Wendy.

“Of course not! I hate public speaking, I have to follow Reverend DeSpain and I have mustard on my tie,” I vented.

“Uh, we didn’t have mustard tonight,” noted Wendy.

“I know!” I sighed and regained my composure. “What if I bomb?”

“Then they’ll all stone and crucify you,” Nathan said.

“You are going to do fine, Jefferson,” Heather said.

“We’re all standing behind you and you’re gonna do great,” Melissa hugged me and kissed my cheek.

“Thank you,” announced one of the Institute’s preachers, “that was Baker Reverend Ira DeSpain. Our next speaker has been head supervisor of Baker Food Service for three years. Please welcome Jefferson Franklin, reading I Corinthians Chapter 13.” A spattering of applause echoed through the dining room as I walked up on stage and behind the podium.

I cleared my throat and began, “’If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.

“’Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

“’Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophecy in part, but when perfection comes, the imperfect disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. Now we see but a poor reflection; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part, then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

“’And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.’”

The applause was louder as I walked off stage, crumpled up the piece of paper the verse was written on and threw it away. I walked through the kitchen, past my office and out the back door.




Melissa, Heather, Nathan, Alyson, Wendy, Kepler and Aaron were all standing at the wall outside the back door. It was almost ten at night. “Why do you think Jeff ran out?” asked Wendy.

“Because he wants attention. He’ll be in the kitchen tomorrow cooking eggs or something,” Alyson said, holding onto Nathan’s arm.

“Oh, shut up, Alyson!” shouted both Melissa and Heather.

“But honestly,” began Melissa. “I’m sure he’s okay. The Bible verse just got him a little upset. Heather, if he’s not back in the morning, call me and we’ll go look for him before work. All right?”

“Sure. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Heather answered.

They all dispersed and headed home. When Melissa got home she found Mike waiting for her. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I’m waiting for you. Where have you been?” Mike asked.

“I was at work. We’ve been busy lately and my boyfriend gave a speech at work tonight so I had to stay after and brag about it,” Melissa said, unlocking her front door. She walked in and turned on a light.

“Boyfriend, huh? You sure wasted no time in moving on. Can I come in? I want to talk to you,” Mike said with a kind of pathetically.

“I guess but make it quick. Don’t you have a wife to cheat on?” Melissa said, closing the door after Mike.

“I don’t have a wife. She filed for divorce because of you,” Mike admitted.

“Because of me? You asked me out. You didn’t have to sleep with me or lie to your wife. You did it all yourself.”

Mike chuckled a little. “I figured you’d say that but now nothing can come between us. It can be just you and me…” Mike said as he brushed Melissa’s hair behind her ear.

“Stop,” she ordered, messing up the hair. “We can’t be together. You lied to me and cheated on your wife. I don’t even want to see you anymore!”

“I understand. Then how about one last time for old time’s sake?”

“I have a boyfriend, Mike. A good one and I am not going to mess this up again. Now please, leave!” Melissa started to head to the door but Mike grabbed her arm and threw her toward a chair.

“Listen, bitch! I came here for one thing and because of you, my marriage is ruined. Now, give me what I want and I’m out of your life. If you don’t then I’ll make your life a nightmare,” Mike let go of Melissa and they exchanged looks. Melissa sank to her knees, began undoing Mike’s pants and started crying

Next:
Jeff and Melissa hit a rough spot in their relationship and the gang begins playing a role-playing game. Also, someone passes away.

No. 13: Harter Union (The Original Short Story)

Jefferson Franklin entered through the delivery doors of the kitchen of Harter Union. The aroma of pasta hit his nostrils and he realized that he was hungry. He walked past bread racks and soda syrup along with freezers and an old elevator. He came to what was his office and looked inside. The nameplate on the door read JEFFERSON FRANKLIN and SAM PERRY; under the names were SUPERVISOR and ASST. SUPERVISOR. Jeff groaned upon seeing his full name listed but shrugged it off. It was a small office but big enough to make him think he was turning his life around. Jeff went behind the desk and began dusting off a chalk marking on the desk.

“You must be the new supervisor,” said a man in the doorway.

“Yeah, I’m Jeff Franklin and you are...?” Jeff asked, still dusting.

“Sam Perry, the assistant supervisor and the one who should’ve gotten your job,” Sam revealed coldly.

“Well, we’re off to a bad start. Sam, do you know why there’s this chalk print on my desk?” he asked, still dusting.

“That’s from the previous supervisor. He was shot in the head a couple weeks ago and that’s the police chalk outline.”

Jeff stood back to get a better look at the outline. “Oh, yeah. Now it looks like a person.”

“We’re working night shift in the worst part of the city surrounded by teens and gangs. We’ve all been threatened and shot at and you actually get used to it sooner or later,” Sam came closer to Jeff. “Since I’ve been here we’ve had two supervisors murdered, three commit suicide and seven quit. You’re lucky number 13…”

“Flattering…” Jeff sighed. “Why don’t you show me around what just might be my last few moments on Earth?”




Harter Union was a 24-hour study area and cafeteria-slash-snack bar for the City of Kansas City College in Kansas City, Missouri. The college was situated near dead center of the worst part of Kansas City and gang fights and nightly shoot-out were not uncommon. Jeff is a well-educated man with a degree in Literary Arts from New York University but since he was seventeen, he has battled a problem with drinking and now Jeff is 32, broke, homeless, an admitted alcoholic and stranded in Kansas City. Jeff was actually married for a couple of years which helped turn his unruly brown hair gray at the temples. Jeff had to work for everything in his life and it showed because in the last three years, Jeff had never officially smiled but he still had a marvelous sense of humor.

Sam was younger than Jeff, 26, and has worked for CKCC for three years. He knew more about the supervisor position than any other supervisor hired but Darrell, the food service manager, once again passed up Sam for a promotion. Sam’s curly hair and tall stature made him an imposing figure when approached by gang members although Sam would never hurt anyone. Sam went around with Jeff and showed him the kitchen, cafeteria and the dish room.

Wendy Halstead was the night cook and a breath of fresh air in the dark, dingy place. Her silky brown hair was highlighted by the dim fluorescent lights but her dark eyes glowed like two distant stars. She was the one cooking the pasta and she was still in school pursuing her degree in culinary arts.

Maggie Kingman seemed to feel right at home in this environment. She mainly worked behind the line serving food to the few students who came in. She would constantly hit on the guys coming in and sometimes go home with one of them but her dirty blond curly hair and caring smile made all of her imperfections golden.

Usually in the dish room was Nathan Yoder and Aaron McPherson. Nathan was kind of a pot head with close-cut black hair and devilish grin. His eyes were also an unusual color of blue. Aaron was soft-spoken with glasses and kind of a nerdish haircut and he was very smart, although around the Union he didn’t show it very often.

And Dennis Seward was the beverage guy which meant he made sure none of the soda, milk, juice, coffee or tea ran out. He also helped out Maggie on the line if she needed it. Dennis could possibly be a little crazy, especially when he got that glint in his eye.

Jeff and Sam returned to the office and Sam went behind the desk and opened the bottom drawer. “Now I’m gonna introduce you to your new best friends,” Sam pulled a gun out and laid it on the desk. Next, he pulled out a large bottle of Jack Daniels. “This gun has saved our lives on more than once occasion and the Jack Daniels has saved our sanity more times than I’d like to say.” Sam pulled a couple a shot glasses out and filled them with the Jack Daniels.

“Oh, no thanks. I don’t drink,” Jeff said.

“At this job, you’re gonna start sooner or later,” Sam chuckled.

“I already have. I’m a recovering alcoholic but, again, thank you,” Jeff politely declined and sighed heavily.

“Well, I wish you all the luck in the world to remain sober,” Sam raised one of the shots. “Salud,” and he downed the Jack.




It was nearly midnight and only three people had come in. Jeff was out front talking with Maggie and Dennis. “I’ve never been in Kansas City before. I’ve been to St. Louis and Wichita but never Kansas City,” Jeff said.

“What are you even doing here?” asked Dennis.

“Well, I was on a cross-country drinking binge after getting fired from a Denver newspaper and this is where I ran out of money,” Jeff sighed.

“Why are you working here if you have a college degree?” Dennis continued.

“I got tired of being around people who get out of the shower to pee.”

“Well, welcome aboard. You know, Sam and Wendy are a little miffed that you got the supervisor position because they have been here for three years each,” Maggie noted.

“I know but I needed something right away and this just happened to be what I got even thought I know I’m overqualified for the job,” Jeff reached around and grabbed his coffee cup and took a drink. “I’ll talk to them about it later.”

“Hopefully you’ll be here a while unlike our last supervisor. I’m only 23 and I should not be used to the sound of gunfire,” Maggie said.

“I really hope all this is just an exaggeration,” Jeff pleaded. “I just want my first night to run smoothly.”

“Hey-yo. You new here?”

Jeff turned to the voice behind him and saw three skinny black men all in bulky coats, loose pants and stocking caps. “Yes, can I help you?”

“Since yo’ new, we needs ta discuss our protection payment plan,” the apparently lead black guy said and motioned his hand not only to himself but to the other two behind him.

“Okay…what?” Jeff shook his head.

“Dis is a rough neighborhood and I, fo’ one, would not like to see you hurt so me an’ my guys here offer our services to protect the likes o’ you,” the lead guy propositioned, sounding like a used car salesman.

“No, thank you, I think I can manage by myself but I will keep it in mind,” Jeff turned back toward Maggie and Dennis.

“Man, I don’t think yo’ hearin’ me. Let me put it to you this way: pay us, don’t get shot; don’t pay us, do get shot,” at that point all three pulled out guns from their coat pockets and pointed them at Jeff.

Jeff’s eyes shot open and he took a step back. “Jesus! Look, I’m not gonna play your little game. Neither of you can be protecting me all the time and besides, I don’t have any money on me. So I’m gonna have to ask you to leave and not come in here anymore,” Jeff tried to sound tough but his knees were shaking.

“Well, look at this; white-boy thinks he’s tough. Do you think he’s tough, Ray?” the lead guy asked the one on his right.

“Pansy-ass bitch!” the one named Ray replied back.

“Now pay up. Fifty dollars and we won’t kill you in front of your friends,” he threatened again.

“I don’t have fifty dollars. I don’t even have fifty cents so go ahead and shoot me, a white guy…in front of witnesses. I don’t care,” Jeff dared.

The lead lowered his piece and motioned for the other two to lower theirs. “Well, we let you slide this time but next time, you giving us the money,” they all put their guns back and walked off. Jeff nearly collapsed and moved back to sit on a nearby stool.

“Oh my God,” Jeff exhaled. “It’s official, I hate having guns pointed at me.”

“That was very brave of you, Jeff. Do you need something to eat or drink?” asked Maggie.

“No, thanks. I’m gonna…I’m gonna check on the dish room,” Jeff got up and walked into the kitchen. Wendy was sitting at one of the counters looking over tomorrow night’s menu.

“Jeff, instead of actually cooking this meal, can I just put out extra bread and deli meat for people to make their own sandwiches?” Wendy asked.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Jeff shrugged. Jeff walked past and into the dish room where Nathan and Aaron, along with Sam, were standing around talking. “How’s everything doing?”

“Fine,” replied Aaron.

“How’s everything with you?” Sam asked.

“Fine, fine. I just got threatened at gunpoint.”

“Wow, usually Skiff and his guys don’t threaten the new people until a week later. At least you got that over with so they won’t bother you anymore,” Sam explained.

“When they pulled out the guns, I didn’t have my life flash before my eyes or tried to repent my sins. I just wished I was drunk…” Jeff said with a hint of disappointment.

“There’s that bottle of Jack in the drawer,” Sam reminded.

“I know I can do this. If I can’t make it through my first week here without taking a drink, I should’ve just had Skiff shoot me,” Jeff looked around the dish room and then at Nathan and Aaron. “You guys need anything?”

“No, we’re fine,” Nathan shook his head.

“If you need anything, I’ll be in the office.”

Jeff left the dish room and headed to the office. He passed by Wendy again who stopped him again. “Can I have the next two Wednesdays off?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Jeff shrugged. Jeff sat behind the desk and pulled the bottle of Jack Daniels and a shot glass out of the drawer. “If you want it, come and get it,” Jeff sang as he held the bottle in his right and swirled the brown liquid around. “Did I hear you say ‘drink me, drink me?’” Jeff pressed the bottle firmly on his cheek and closed his eyes.

“Thinking of imbibing?” asked Sam, coming into the office.

“Nothing,” Jeff quickly dropped the Jack Daniels into his other hand and hid it behind the desk. “What? No, just wondering what could be. I don’t know why I want a drink so much because the stuff ruining my life, destroyed my marriage and got me fired from seven jobs.”

“You were married?”

“For two years. It didn’t work out because I like to drink and sleep around and for some reason, she didn’t like me to,” Jeff tried to laugh but couldn’t.

“Oh my God! Jeff, Sam, come here!” shrieked Aaron from the dish room.

Jeff and Sam dashed from the office into the dish room where Jeff then slipped on a wet spot on the floor and landed on his butt. “Ow! What’s wrong?” Jeff pulled himself up and looked panicked at Aaron and Nathan.

“This outlet just spontaneously combusted,” Nathan pointed at an outlet in the area of pots and pans.

Jeff went over and looked at it. He noted the burn marks surrounding the outlet. “So what were you doing before it exploded?” he asked.

“Um, I was spraying it with water…” Nathan began, “after I splashed it with bleach and poured Comet and liquid soap on it.”

“Well, no wonder it exploded! You probably corroded the wires. I’ll call maintenance tomorrow morning. Just don’t play with this anymore and I’ll shut off the power to it. Oh, and don’t do that again please.”

“Can do, boss,” Nathan saluted. Jeff and Sam slowly walked back to the office but stopped in the doorway.

“Get in here and close the door or you’re both dead!” shouted a dreadlocked black man brandishing a gun.

“I’ve more guns pointed at me today than ever in my entire life,” Jeff said, closing the office door behind him and Sam.




“So you shot your way into an ATM and now the cops are after you. So you run into a 24-hour student union and hold two people hostage,” Jeff said. The robber nodded. “Okay, good. I thought it was just me.”

“Is there anybody else here?” asked the robber.

“Yeah, two up front and three back here. One of them is bound to notice we’re missing sooner or later so why don’t you just let us go and leave out the back door like a good criminal?”

The guy cocked the gun as the office door opened and Wendy walked in. “Hey, Jeff, Sam, I’m thinking of fixing some biscuits and gravy for breakfast and I was…whoa!” Wendy stopped suddenly as she noticed the gun. “…Was just going out to the line.”

“Stop right there!” the gunman said. “You’re in this now so you might as well make yourself comfortable.” Wendy sighed and shut the door. I stood up and backed away from my chair. The gun went off. “Sit yo’ ass down!”

“I’m just being a gentleman and giving her my chair!” Jeff screamed as Wend fell to the floor. “Don’t be so trigger-happy, you’ll bring the cops.”

“Oh, yes, heaven forbid,” Sam said sarcastically.

Within seconds the rest of the staff was outside the office door and looking at awe at the gunman who was pointing the gun at the ceiling; Sam sitting comfortably in a chair; Wendy cowering on the floor and Jeff covering his head. “This is a pretty scene,” Maggie said as she opened the door and walked in. “What are you boys doing in here?” she smiled.

“Nothing, just listening to Mister…what is your name, sir?” began Sam.

“Shut yo’ mouth, man!” the gunman shouted.

“Mr. Shutyourmouthman tell a story about Jesus, weren’t you, sir?”

“Hell, no! I’m hiding from the po-lice!”

“Jesus, po-lice. Same thing. Look, breaking an ATM and stealing money is small beans compared to holding hostages and possible attempted murder,” Sam pointed to the ceiling, “so in an effort to help you out, we promise not to tell anyone you were here so you can make your getaway, capishe?”

“Everything but capishe…I don’t like that. Suppose the cops have this place surrounded?” asked the gunman.

“Then you’re doomed and you might as well commit suicide.”

The gunman had something quickly race through his mind and waved the gun around. “I got an idea and you’re comin’ wit’ me!” the gunman grabbed Jeff’s arm and dragged him out of the office.

“Hey, what the hell?” Jeff fought out of the gunman’s grip but still ended up with a gun pointed at his ribs. “Crap…Look, you don’t want me. I’m a bad hostage. I cry and I moan and I talk about how much one sucks so you might as well just shoot me. I’m a horrible hostage. Horrible,” Jeff pleaded.

The back door opened and a policeman rounded the corner. “Excuse me but I’m trying to find someone who…” the policeman noticed the gun pointed at Jeff’s side and drew for his gun. “Hold it right there!”

“Ah, man! I knew I wasn’t going to get away with this! All right officer, I’ll go peacefully. And the $60 I stole is in my back pocket.”

“Wait,” Jeff gasped. “You only stole $60?”

“And I shot an ATM. I was only able to pull out $60 before I heard a siren so I ran.”

“Wait, back up. You mean to tell me that I am standing here, scared out of my mind with a gun jammed in my ribs for $60?” Jeff shouted.

“And I used my only bullets on the ATM and your office ceiling…”

“You mother…Get him out of my sight!” Jeff pushed the gunman’s arm away and turned around.

Jeff and everybody went back to their respective posts with Jeff, Sam, Maggie and Dennis up front. “You handled that fairly well,” said Maggie.

“Sure, sure,” Jeff began. “He threatens to shoot me using a gun whose bullets were used in a botched robbery and scare tactic. This is not my night but thank God it can’t get worse.”

“Look, if you want to take a swig of that Jack do so. We all would understand,” Sam said.

“I have faced a lot in my life and nothing has equaled what has happened tonight so I figure if I can make it through tonight, I can make it through any night. I’m gonna drink some wholesome chocolate milk,” Jeff walked over, grabbed a cup from the rack and filled it with chocolate milk. He took a long drink and smiled at the three workers. “Yummy, yummy, I got love in my tummy.” And he went back to the office.




Nearly 4 a.m. and Jeff was lying back in the chair with his eyes closed. His eye twitched as he heard the back door open and then slam shut. The shuffle of feet got closer and seemed to stop at his door. Without opening his eyes, Jeff spoke. “Can I help you?”

“Please…” said a weak voice, “help me.” Jeff’s eyes shot open to see a bruised and battered woman wearing only a tattered shirt who soon collapsed to the floor.

Jeff shot out of his chair and over to the woman. He helped her to her feet and into his chair. He went to the clothes rack just outside the office and grabbed a chef’s jacket and wrapped it around her. “Ma’am? Can you hear me?”

“Mm-hmm,” she said weakly.

“What happened?” Jeff asked.

“I was…was partying with some guys and other girls and they were all…hooking up but I didn’t want to so when I left, they followed and…” the woman began to cry and big tears streamed down her cheeks. “They raped and beat me.”

“All right. I’m gonna call the police and call someone else in here to be with you but I promise that you’re safe,” Jeff made sure the woman acknowledged what he had said and ran out into the kitchen. “Wendy?”

Wendy appeared from around the corner of the stoves. “Yes?”

“I need your help,” Jeff pulled Wendy over to his office and explained the woman’s situation. “Just keep her calm and talking while I call the police. I’m also gonna send Sam and Aaron back here in case her attackers want seconds or something.”

“All right,” Wendy agreed as calmly as able.

Jeff ran upfront and used the phone behind the line. “Sam, could you grab Aaron from the dish room and help Wendy in my office? It’s important,” Sam nodded and took off as Jeff began dialing 9-1-1. “This is Jeff Franklin and there’s been a rape at the Harter Union on the City of Kansas City College campus…”

Soon everything was sorted out and Jeff was back in the office along with Sam, Wendy and Aaron. “The police are on their way but it’ll be awhile since they are never in this area,” Jeff said and kneeled down next to the woman and carefully placed his hand on her back. “Do you want to tell us your name?”

“Emily. Emily Morris. And I want to thank you all for being so nice. You didn’t have to get involved,” Emily said between sniffs.

“What kind of people would we be if we didn’t?” Jeff said, smiling. “Do you want anything to drink?”

Emily shook her head.

“Okay, well, I’m Jeff Franklin and this is Sam Perry, Aaron McPherson and Wendy Halstead and they should all be getting back to work now.”

Everyone grumbled but obliged and soon left Jeff alone with Emily. “It all happened so fast…” Emily began, starting to cry again, “and I couldn’t stop it, I…”

“Ssh. Don’t get yourself worked up over it again. I’m gonna get you some water, okay? I’ll be right back,” he stood up and went out to the dining area. He grabbed a cup, filled it with ice and water.

“How’s she doing?” Maggie asked, having just been filled in by Sam and Wendy.

“She’s fine. Shocked and ashamed it happened to her. You know what I was thinking? If I was drunk, none of this would be bothering me. Heck, I’d probably be trying to get into her pants myself.”

“Then it’s a good thing that you’re not drunk,” Sam said. “You’re looking pretty haggard, Jeff. We’ve had three supervisors commit suicide. Don’t make it four.”

Jeff smiled and walked back to the office with the water.




The police had picked up Emily and everyone was up front around the line. “Tonight,” Jeff began, “has been the worst night of my life and if every night is like this, I can’t handle it without a drink!” Jeff grunted and went into the kitchen. Everybody shrugged and talked amongst themselves and then a gunshot rang out. They all ran into the kitchen and saw Jeff standing in the office doorway holding the gun in one hand and the bottleneck of a shattered Jack Daniel’s bottle in the other. “Got ‘im!” Jeff smiled.

Metamorphon: Leader of the Legion of Might

Back in 1993, the magazine Disney Adventures held a contest to see which kid could create the best superhero. According to DA, 4,000 entries were received but only would be crowned the leader of the Legion of Might.


I think it would've been interesting to see a couple of the other heroes in true comic book form. Games and Gravityman come to mind. I wonder what the criteria was DA used to pick the winners. I'm pretty sure they looked at creativity, origin and powers so maybe Metamorphon had the best origin, weakness, powers and villain because I know they judged on all of that. Oh, well.

Luke Daniels Presents The Mighty Metamorphon
Written by Marv Wolfman
Penciled by Curt Swan
Inked by Dave Hunt
Lettered by David Cody Weiss
Colored by Valerie Dal Chele
All characters are probably owned by the Walt Disney Company, if not, then they are owned by the person who owns them.


I had forgotten that this was such a short story. You would think DA would attempt to do a decent story with an origin and such but I guess they needed room for that horrible Superman trivia game on the page before these. Yes, we all know about The Adventures of SuperPup, now just let it die!

#216: Nine Counties

Before they rebuilt that part of U.S. Highway 56, you used to be able to veer left and continue onto Ames Street, nowadays you have to turn left onto Washington Street. If you follow Ames Street all the way down you come to a locked gate. Crossing this gate was the first step in me becoming the pseudo-explorer I am. The road narrowed and basically became a trail that winded through the woods. It crossed a creek and lead to two small lakes where a camper was placed. I knew we were trespassing but being far out in the boonies, I figured no one would notice or care. We weren't doing anything wrong, just exploring.

Since that time, nine counties in Kansas have been added to my list of counties I know my way around pretty well. I cannot get lost in these counties no matter how hard I try (and I've tried in a couple of them). So what are my favorite places in each of these counties? I'm glad you asked.

Marshall County, Irving Townsite
Irving was small town along the Big Blue River just a couple miles southeast of Blue Rapids. It survived two tornadoes and an ever-changing country but the one thing it couldn't survive was the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers who demolished everything to build the Tuttle Creek Dam and the Tuttle Creek Reservoir. Foundations of buildings and the roads still remain, the reservoir has never made it to Irving. Irving is marked by a sort of gravestone where the post office used to stand and a mailbox where visitors can leave notes to other visitors.

Pottawatomie County, Louis Vieux/Oregon Trail Park
What was once the largest elm tree in Kansas is located in this small park. There's a lot going on in the general area of the elm tree park located three miles east of Louisville. Louis Vieux was part French and part Pottawatomie who ran a crossing along the Oregon Trail. Vieux was the namesake of nearby Louisville and Belvue and was well-respected among everybody. When Vieux died, he was buried in the Vieux Family Cemetery across the road from the elm tree. Nearby is a cemetery where 40 people died of cholera in 1849, only one gravestone remains and underneath the tree, now ravaged by weather, Dutch Elm disease and vandalism, lies the graves of seven unknown soldiers.

Jackson County
Oddly enough, even though Jackson County is on my list, I don't have a favorite spot. I have driven around it enough to know where things are and how to get there but I haven't actually explored it. One interesting spot is Hass Cemetery which is a cemetery very close to K-16 at the intersection with M Road.

Jefferson County, Medina Cemetery
This cemetery was neglected for about 70 years before the city of Perry decided to start cleaning it up. This small cemetery was the cemetery for the small town of Medina about one mile west of Perry, there is nothing special about this cemetery except that it is so peaceful and a place where dozens of children were buried after succumbing to a smallpox epidemic. There is still a lot of work to go to sufficiently clean up the cemetery but it's a lot better than it was. Only about five stones out of the more than 20 people buried there remain.

Wabaunsee County, Volland
Volland is a ghost town between Alma and Alta Vista on Old K-10 Road. Little remains of the town except a few houses and a couple of abandoned buildings, one of which is a general store. It was Volland where I was bombarded by hundreds of grasshoppers which was a lot scarier than it sounds. While Volland is just a pass-by ghost town, the two ruins in the town are pretty impressive.


Shawnee County, Uniontown
An early town in Kansas founded in about 1849, Uniontown was an Oregon Trail crossing and Indian pay station for the Pottawatomies who lived across the river. After a cholera scare, the town was abandoned and burned but was re-established a few years later but was abandoned again shortly thereafter and burned again by Indians who considered it "bad medicine". The townsite is marked by the Green Cemetery and the Green Nature Preserve so the area is well-preserved. The cemetery boasts such features as the mass grave of about 50 Pottawatomies and other people who died of cholera. The area is kind of a quiet, creepy place and one of the trails of the nature preserve leads into a dark area of the woods along Post Creek. It's definitely worth a tour.

Douglas County, Mound Cemetery
This quiet spot west of Clinton Lake and south of Stull is a personal favorite of mine mainly because of the isolation and the view. Started in 1880 as a small family cemetery, Mound Cemetery offers a view of Clinton Lake ten miles to the west. There's nothing all that special about this place, I just enjoy coming here and thinking.



Osage County, Michigan Valley
What little there is of Michigan Valley, I like to drive through. I seems like a nice town tucked away in the fields of Osage County near Pomona Lake. All that remains of Michigan Valley is the grain elevator, a few houses and a white church that may or may not still be in use.




Franklin County, Ottawa Indian Cemetery
This cemetery, located away from the road near Tauy Creek, was the location of the Ottawa Indian Mission originally headed by Jotham Meeker. After Meeker's death in 1855 the mission fell into disrepair but John T. "Tauy" Jones, who is also buried in this cemetery, would go on to help create Ottawa University. The cemetery was excavated in 1988 in order to find the location of the various buildings that were once located here.

Harter Union: Part Five; Chapters 4 & 5

Jason and Chrissy sat in my office and seemed to try and avoid any eye contact. Jason twiddled his thumbs while Chrissy’s hands fidgeted around.

“So you found someone else?” Jason asked.

“Yes, his name is Jesse and he makes me feel something I haven’t felt in a really long time…” Chrissy explained. “Something since before the abortion.”

“Why did we have that abortion? It caused nothing but problems,” Jason said angrily.

“Or maybe it helped us realize that we are not supposed to be together. Understand?” Chrissy tried to be sweet.

“I do, I guess. So have we officially broken up?”

“Yeah, I guess we have. Are you okay?” asked Chrissy.

“Of course. I just want you to be happy. You are happy, right?” Jason asked, trying to smile.

“Yes, for the first time in a long time,” Chrissy smiled as her eyes began to tear up. “We need to get to work.”

Jason and Chrissy got up and left the office, going their separate way: Jason to the Dish Room and Chrissy to the Line. Jason tied a red apron around him and entered the Dish Room. Also in the Dish Room were Nathan, Kepler, and Heather.

“What did Chrissy want to talk to you about?” Heather asked.

“Nothing much. She just broke up with me, that’s all,” Jason said. “She met someone else and he makes her feel things she hasn’t felt in a while so I understand.”

“You look kind of down. Are you sure you’re okay?” Nathan asked walking over to his brother. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No…not right now. And especially not to you,” Jason exclaimed.

“Why not? I am your brother you douche bag!”

“You’d spread it to that flabby, bleach blond bimbo you call a fiancée and I don’t want her to know my personal secrets,” Jason explained.

“Maybe she could offer some feminine insight to your troubles.”

“Just because she has a hole between her legs does not make her feminine. Now can we just get these dishes washed so I can continue to wallow in the mess I’ve made?”

“Aw, he’s wallowing,” Heather cooed.

Everybody began working with Jason in the Pots & Pans area. As he was nearing the last pan, Kepler came over to him and looked at him. “What?” Jason snapped.

“You have the most beautiful green bloodshot eyes,” Kepler remarked.

“Are you high?” Jason shouted.

“Possibly,” Kepler took the last pan from Jason and walked back to the dish machine.




Wendy was folding laundry in the bakery area and listening to the radio when Wanda and Alyson came up to her. “Hey, Dee how was your date with Jeff?” asked Alyson.

“It was good. We went to this restaurant and got drunk on wine, and then we went back to my place,” Wendy revealed.

“Ooh and then what happened?” Wanda asked suggestively.

“Heather called and Jeff went over to Melissa’s place,” Wendy said.

“Nuh-uh!” Wanda exclaimed.

“You bet, ask Heather.”

“So nothing happened?” both girls were amazed but Alyson seemed angry. “He went to Melissa’s?”

“Apparently. I don’t know why he’s not here today But he did leave me to go over to his ex-fiancée’s. It was a good night up to that point,” Wendy laughed softly.

“That jerk!” Alyson yelled.

“He’s not a jerk,” Wendy rebounded. “He didn’t want to leave but you know he still cares about Melissa and would do anything for her.”

“Even leave his date alone,” Alyson injected.

“I didn’t mind. Anyway, it sounded important and we weren’t doing anything anyhow,” Wendy admitted.

“Well, Heather and I are going out tonight and you are more than welcome to join us but I have to warn you that we plan on definitely getting laid by any means necessary,” Wanda invited.

“I might do that. I’ll let you know later,” Wendy finished folding the last of the laundry, stacked it all in the basket and carried it off to put it away.

In the Dish Room, Nathan was cleaning the dish machine baskets as Kepler was sweeping the floor. Jason was in the mop room filling one of the mop buckets. “We need to ask Jeff if we can have a radio in here,” Nathan said.

“He’d probably let us. He seems kind of cool as long we get our work done,” Kepler replied.

“Our first night with it, it’d probably fall in a sink full of water.”

“Probably,” Kepler grabbed the dustpan and swept the garbage into it. Jason came in with a mop and bucket.

“Since when is the mop water hot?” Jason asked. “I went to wash some goop off and it gave me third degree burns.”

“Jeff called somebody and it turns out that those sinks weren’t connected to the water heater or something like that so he made them fix it,” Nathan explained.

“Cool,” and Jason began mopping in the Pots & Pans area.

“We were just talking about how we need a radio in here,” Nathan said to Jason.

“On our first night, it would probably fall in a sink full of water.”




Chapter Five
I was sitting in McDonald’s with Aaron and Heather. They were the only ones I told about Melissa and I was bringing her home from the hospital because she didn’t want her family to know.

“Have you ever just sat and people-watched?” I asked holding my egg and sausage biscuit to my mouth.

“Sometimes,” Heather answered.

“It’s amazing. Peoples little foibles…”

“Foibles?” questioned Aaron.

“…and they don’t try to hide them. Like that guy,” I pointed across the dining room to a man who was drinking a Coke and eating biscuits and gravy while reading the paper. “He needs to scratch his nose.”

Heather and Aaron quickly turned around to look at the man. “How can you tell?” Aaron wondered.

“You can hear him sniffing. Hell, you could hear it on Mars. Anyway, he could also have a runny nose caused by the gravy but he has a stack of napkins so why doesn’t he blow his nose? He is obviously one of those that don’t scratch his nose until the feeling becomes unbearable,” I explained.

“That’s amazing,” Heather said, astonished.

“Old people are the best because they either don’t care about what they do or they are embarrassed by everything they do. Same with middle-aged women. Sometimes they won’t even blink without an ‘excuse me.’ One time I was in this diner and this woman must’ve had a cold or something in her throat or lungs because she kept coughing. Nothing big but just cough…cough…cough. Something your average person wouldn’t notice.”

“But you did?” smiled Heather, who looked at Aaron.

“Yes. But hers was consistently cough…excuse me. Cough…excuse me. Cough…excuse me.”

“She was just being courteous,” Heather argued.

“No, but this was, like, every 45 seconds. Cough…excuse me,” I held up my hand a little from the table and waited exactly 45 seconds and then, “cough…excuse me.”

“Yeah, but still you have to take into consideration that she may just be a polite woman and you shouldn’t judge her just based on that one…”

“Cough…excuse me,” I said, interrupting Heather.

Aaron spoke up. “Well, now I see how it could get a little annoying.”

I looked over to my left into the corner and saw a woman eating and reading a romance novel. “Another thing I want to know is about women who read romance novels.”

“What about them?” Heather asked, not looking at me.

“Do the women masturbate to them?”

The question was caught off-guard by Aaron who nearly spit out his drink. “What?!”

“It’s a valid question! It’s nearly the same as an erotic novel only change the words ‘sucked my rock hard nipples’ to ‘tongue caressed my tender nipple buds.’” I explained.

“Oh my God!” Heather shielded her face from the passers-by.

“Stop being such a schoolmarm. Think about it. Inquiring minds want to know.”

“Schoolmarm?” she whispered.

“It would probably vary from person to person but I think a majority of them read them to think about relationships they were never able to achieve themselves,” Aaron explained.

“That’s what I thought until I wanted to know if they masturbate to them.”

“Jefferson!” Heather snapped.

“Oh, stop it! You sound like my mom.”

“Here’s a question,” began Aaron. “How come you don’t call him Jeff like everybody else?”

“I got the name from his office door and he’s never corrected me,” Heather explained.

“That’s cool. Can I start calling you Jefferson?”

“You’re fired, Aaron,” I said, standing up with my tray to dump it.

“Okay, I’ll go back to calling you Jeff,” Aaron said.




Melissa had just finished packing when Heather, Aaron and me arrived. “You ready?” I asked.

“Almost. The doctor wants to look me over and give me some last minute instructions,” she answered.

As soon as she finished, the doctor walked in. “Ms. Girard? You all set to go?”

“Yep.”

“Is this your ride?” the doctor asked, looking at us.

“Yeah, and Jeff is the one who’ll be staying with me,” Melissa said.

“Ah, boyfriend?”

And before I could correct the doctor, Melissa answered “yes.” I looked at her questioningly.

“Well, just do everything I told you. Since you have someone who knows you intimately, I assume, it should be an easy transition and if you ever need again, call a psychiatrist or 1-800-SUICIDE and they can help. It also looks like you have good friends and you can always talk to them,” the doctor said. “Any questions?”

Everyone shook their heads.

“Alright, well, come back in two weeks and we’ll remove those stitches,” the doctor said pointing to Melissa’s right hand. “Have a good day, all.” And the doctor left.




I dropped Aaron off at work and Heather off at our apartment and went back to Melissa’s apartment. “I want to thank you for doing all this for me. I really appreciate it,” Melissa said. “And I’m sorry you had to see me in that state.”

“It’s okay. Anything for you, remember that,” I said. “However I do want to know what happened that caused you to do that.”

“I found out that Mike was married and you seemed to disappear whenever I needed to talk so I…”

“Mike was married?” I asked. Melissa nodded her head. “I knew something wasn’t right about that guy. And what did you mean by telling the doctor I was your boyfriend?”

“Hopeful wishing. I never really wanted to be with Mike. I always wanted you but you were either with Maggie or getting close to Heather and I didn’t want to disrupt your life again.”

“Melissa…Pussycat, if you are wanting to give you and me a serious chance, all you have to do is ask,” I said, stepping closer to her.

“Jeff, I want another chance. Please?” Melissa, too, stepped closer.

“Mmm, I don’t know. I’m gonna need some convincing…” Melissa pressed her body to mine, wrapped her arms around my neck and leaned up to kiss me. When our lips unlocked, I looked down at her, smiling. “I think I could.”

And we kissed again.

Next:
Jeff has a speech and Mike confronts Melissa.

Fourth of July Finale

And the Thornapples couldn't move three to five inches on either side in order to see the fireworks?

But what I don't understand is if they were under the tree then how did it obstruct their view? They didn't notice the low-hanging limbs and branches covering the area of the sky where the fireworks would've been? My wife and I attempted to view our local fireworks show and staked out under a tree because it was starting to rain. We parked a car near where we would be at, hung out with family and then was dropped off at the park. We were all set to view the 'works (and move from out from under the tree) when it downpoured. Soaked to the bone, never saw any fireworks (but we can hear other people's fireworks, which, by the way, are illegal to shoot off in my town) but all in all had a good day.

That's a snappy beret, Gladys.

#215: This Isn't Suitable for Work

I typically like the people I work with on a team if they have a good sense of humor and they are laid back. The lesbian and wife-stealing bisexual didn't particularly like me but on the plus side, I didn't exactly like them either. There was this girl on our team who was short, chubby and had curly red hair, glasses--she was nice enough although not my type because she had a boyfriend and she wasn't all that attractive. And she was on my team from the beginning until I moved to overnights but the thing I remember most about her was the way she was fired shortly after I moved to overnights.

Working in a call center, you see and hear some pretty weird things. Some you can take with a grain of salt and choose to believe or not. Normally something like this I would consider false except for it has corroborating evidence. I was talking with someone who used to be on my team and she was talking with this girl who said that occasionally, to pass the time until the end of the day, she'll cover herself up with her blanket (because women are never at the right temperature) and "think about her boyfriend". I'm gonna let that sink in. But like most people, this person needed clarification one what she was talking about. And yep, the clarification confirmed that this girl was indeed masturbating.

Well, seeing as how that is unacceptable (plus someone else sooner or later will have to use that chair), the woman turned this girl in and she was given a stern talking to and allowed to return to work. I'm pretty sure if a guy was. . .doing that sort of thing, he would be fired and shunned--emphasis on shun. Anyway, she went back to work and continued to touch herself inappropriately. She got caught again and was fired but I often wonder "why?"

And it's not even the "why would you even consider doing that in your workplace" but more of a "why would you continue doing that after you get caught the first time". Did no one else notice? Did she even bring herself to orgasm or did she kept getting interrupted by incoming calls?

I don't know...and I don't want to know. It's good to have a hobby you can bring to work but maybe it needs to be a bit more appropriate.

Until next time, I remain...
~Brian

(Some changes will be coming to POB starting with #216 which will hopefully be in a couple of weeks.)

Don't Let It Get Too High, the Neighbors Will Tattle On You

Well, that wouldn't get me to mow the lawn on a regular basis.