Work with Me, Man. Work with Me!

A few years ago I worked closely with a good guy, Mark. He was in his mid 40's, had a couple kids and had been married for about 15 years. He was going through a stressful time in his marriage. He was not where he wanted to be career wise, he wasnt bringing in the same income as her which was making all the monthly bills a bit overwhelming. It was pretty much a daily occurance that you would hear a somewhat elevated and heated exchange between Mark and his wife over the phone. They would never be full out scream fests but you could tell things were not as smooth between them as a married couple would like. I always felt sympathetic to the situation. Mark was a great guy, I was sure his wife was very endearing and I knew that they were raising some great kids. Well, one day Mark's wife walks into the office and is hanging around for a bit. I remember seeing her when she walked in and thinking to myself that this is a very attractive woman. This is before I realize she's Mark's wife. Before long I see her and Mark talking and I do figure it out. And as I walk past them Mark stops me and introduces me. Now I'm not always a smartass, 89.5% of the time yes, but not always. This was one of that other 10.5% of the time. Perhaps my reputation preceedes me, I don't know. At any rate, I saw this as an opportunity to help old Mark and his better half have a nicer day together than it would have been otherwise. Now it's about here that all you readers are thinking "Damn Brico, what did you do?" in your little belittling we-have-better-judgement-than-you voices. Well I say to you all "Talk to the hand! You don't know me!" THIS is what I do: As soon as Mark introduces me to his lovely wife I look at him and say (very politely and pleasantly mind you!) "You weren't kidding Mark, your wife is beautiful." And I catch in my periferal vission a wonderful sweet smile begin to emerge from the corners of her lips as she turns her head slightly to look into the eyes of the father of her children. This is the point where any man would have turned his head toward his wife and reply "Yes she certainly is." Unless you're Mark that is. If you're Mark, apparently the protocol for such a situation is to jerk your head quickly to the friend (me) and reply without hesitation "I never said that." And just like that the corners of her sweet smile vanished. I tried man, I tried. You gotta work with me!

It's All In The Timing (and in the attitude!)

Last week I noticed at jambase.com that String Cheese Incident was coming to town in October. Ovens Auditorium is an all seating venue usually hosting more formal and intimate events. It is literally 1 block from where I work. The cool thing is that you can buy your tickets at their box office and bypass the Ticket-Master-Rape-Me-Till-I-Bleed "convenience" charges. So this morning I walk over there just to ask what day tickets go on sale and how much they will be. The kindly old woman at the counter responds " In 12 minutes"! And that all tickets are reserved seating and $30, not general admission. I had no idea today was the day they went on sale! Pleasantly surprised by her answer, I look around. There is only 2 other people in the shadows of the lobby waiting for that 12 minutes to pass. How can this be? SCI sells out most shows within minutes. It must be the age of online buying that now makes actually getting off your ass and going to the theatre itself an advantage. I call Miguel and tell him the surprise situation and how it looks like were set to get some good tickets and is he in? He is. Good. For the next 12 minutes I let myself become encompassed in the depth and serenity that are the pale blue eyes of the oh-so-tasty hippie chick in front of me as we share stories of our common love for music. At the same time there has entered into our private little flirting bubble an annoyance of great proportions in the form of another ticket buyer in wait who is hell bent on annoying everyone in the room (me, blue eyed hippie chick, quite ticket buyer with kid in arms, kindly old lady, and second ticket seller lady at second window). He repeatedly, loudly and agressively asks each of us if he can give us cash so we can max out our purchase of tickets for him so he doesn't have to wait his turn (2nd in line in his window!!) Then proceedes to yell over our shoulders repeatedly to the ticket ladies if they can start printing out tickets now and just hold them for the remaining minutes. He must have asked this 4 times in that brief period and gave attitude every time the answer was 'no'. All of us are beginning to look at each other with rolling eyes. Finally the 12 minutes goes by. Hippie chick requests 2 tix and completes her transaction in record time. Apparently the kindly old lady at the helm knows EXACTLY what she is doing and appreciates just how much in competition she is with the onliners around the U.S. since all tix went on sale at the exact same time. Hippie chick looks at her tickets. 2nd row! She quickly winks at me and moves aside with all due promptness. I force my eyes away from hers and back to the business at hand. I tell her "2" and slide my debit card (one of the greatest inventions of the 20th century - hmmm, that gives me an idea for a 'tens list'). My tickets are printed out... Orchestra... Row 'C' Hmmmm... I jump into math mode A =1, B=2, C=3!! 3rd row!! I look at the seating chart on the wall. 3rd Row CENTER!!! Take that Ticket Master!!! In your face!! Annoying guy, who once more yells over me to both ticket ladies "Can you print out my tickets now?!", moves behind me because the quite guy with kid in arms who he was behind is purposefully counting out his cash quite slowly to start that negative karma repayment to annoying guy as quickly as possible (nice move quiet guy!!!). He ends up getting his tickets 45 seconds after me and got row 'DD'!! That would be row 30 for you non-math types! "Damnit! Row 30" he says with extreme agitation "Thanks for your help guys" he emits sarcastically as he turns around to head off. "Wow" I say to the ticket lady "They sold that many tickets That fast?" "Oh yeah" she responds looking at me with a wry smirk emerging from her kindly old lips "SOMEtimes they sell that fast" as she throws me a completely sinister wink! OH SWEET JUSTICE!!! Thank YOU kindly old lady who doesn't put up with annoying people's shit!! You HAVE the power!!! Take THAT irritating guy! Don't forget your binoculars!! Heh Heh Heh

The Last Laugh

This was probably the biggest laugh I ever had the privilege of enjoying... Scene 1: In my girlfriend's college dormroom. Early afternoon. Alone. Doing what college sweethearts do in such a setting. Shortly afterward her phone rings. Its her mom. She takes the call and starts chatting. I seize the opportunity and give her a lesson in self control. I don't want to get graphic or turn this into a smut log so use your imagination. She does her best to contain herself and not let on to her mom what exactly is going down. Finally the phone call is ended and I am slapped repeatedly in a fun a good natured way. We laugh it over for a few minutes... Scene 2: About a week later. She and I are relaxing in my dormroom which I have to myself for the weekend. Nothing is going on at the moment. The phone rings (these are the old phones when they still had cords). I pick it up. Its a fraternity brother (that's right! Sigma Chi!) needing some top secret info or something. So I take the call. And my ever so playful girlfriend decides to repay the favor from a week earlier. However, my bro only needed one or two quick questions answered. That was it. Two really quick yes or no questions and he was ready to say "okay thanks, gotta go" Now, I KNOW exactly what's going to happen: Im going to say goodbye and the ever so playful girlfriend is going to decide that play time is done now that the call is over. Thats all. Have a laugh. Go back to what we were doing before (nothing) I DON'T THINK SO! And I get an idea: I refrain from saying the words 'goodbye' on the phone. I cant let him onto what's going down or all bets are off. I have to make it sound like the conversation is important, urgent, and complicated. He keeps saying goodbye but all I say is "okay" and "that's fine" and "sounds good then". He eventually hangs up. I quietly reach over to the phone base and gently press down the button with my finger so as not to disturb girlfriend's concentration. Now all those years of childhood acting and improv class are about to pay off (thanks mom). I keep the receiver to my ear and keep on talking... "right" pause "how long will it take Yoach to get there?" pause "can Tripod make it instead?" pause "no? how about Sleastack or Digger" pause "okay, then tell Chud to stop by and pick up the kegs after he and Noodle are back from getting the dry ice" pause "what do you mean they didn't order the dry ice?!" pause "so how far is that?" pause "okay, this is not good. that was Stork's job to order the ice so if Chud has to drive another 20 miles to get then Stork is paying him for the gas, that's ridiculous." pause Keep in mind, I'm making this up on the fly. There IS noone on the other end. And it would be a cold day in hell before Yoach or Chud would let me tell them what to do anyway. So about 3 minutes into my monologue, girlfriend doing her very best to keep me distracted, me in deep conversation on the phone, what do you suppose happens? THE PHONE RINGS!!! the very phone on which I am supposed to be having a long conversation is now eliciting loudly and clearly the message that 'noone is using this phone at the moment despite the reciever being off the hook and pressed to Trout's ear' Silence... I freeze. I have to think fast. All positive sensation that I had been enjoying for the last 5 minutes quickly subsides. Girlfriend's face begins to appear from behind her long hair. I try to save the situation from complete chaos! "Um, hold on Skeeter, I got another call coming through" I try to fake it. Of course, I don't think there even WAS call waiting at the time and even if there was the phone doesn't ring out loud when a second call comes in. Her look changes from confusion to realization to anger. I am unable to restore the previous situation, the gig is up. I answer the phone once again as I try to avoid the coldest and most vengeful-promising eyes I had ever seen. I can not contain myself and I burst into uncontrollable laughter as a sharp pain begins to encompass my lower region. I have to hang up the phone to save myself from further injury. Lets just say that I didn't look too far off from Ben Stiller's plight in Cameron Diaz's bathroom in Something About Mary. I was never able to find out who that second call was from, what they wanted, or most importantly: what they heard.

The Alligator Episode

This is my daughter's favorite story that I tell from my youth... you get a good idea of just what kind of youth I was (is?)... Scene: A bird/wildlife sanctuary near the Louisiana bayou. There are many inlets of water coursing through extended quiet greenways nice for walking. Great undisturbed area rich with trees, birds, alligators (2 of which we had earlier fed an entire can of cheeseballs to - THERE'S and ad that a marketing firm has yet to employ), etc. The Setting: Mom and stepdad are sitting on a bench about 20ft off a lagoon's edge staring out over the water at the abundance of birds and reeds in the breeze, enjoying a quiet moment to themselves (or so they think). I (about 12 years at this time) see my opportunity for one of my favorite pastimes (pranks), particularly when said prank involves scaring the living bejesus out of someone, especially when that someone is a close relative, and even better when that relative is out in public view! This was a prank factor 10! No question about it! I was already grinning ear to ear just waiting for the right moment! ...And then it came... I sneak up ever so stealthily behind said parental units sitting obliviously on said bench overlooking said spectacular view. Once I'm about seven feet away I get down on my hands and knees (they're still unaware of my presence and I'm about to pee my pants in anticipation of the next moment - just like when you're playing hide and seek and you are the hider) I open my mouth and let out my best (imitating voices and sounds has always been a talent of mine - keep that in mind) version of an angry alligator hiss that I can muster while down on my knees (we had heard this sound several times over the course of the day - try telling an alligator that is needing his cheeseball fix that the can is now empty and see what YOU get!) Now I was hoping/expecting to get some kind of reaction. A quick jerk, a mild startle effect, something like this. I guess my alligator hiss imitation was FAR better than I gave myself credit for because within a fraction of a second the entire scene changed. Once that sound filled the immediate area and my folks were under the assumption that an angry, cheeseball-craving gator was right behind them 2 things happened: 1- In an acrobatic move that could not be repeated by even the strongest of athletes or flexiblist of contortionists, my stepdad IN A SINGLE MOVEMENT, moves from a standard bench sitting position into a 180 degree turned around standing position ON TOP of that very bench. If that wasn't enough, in that same motion he adopts the crane position made famous by Ralph Machio as if to not only scare away and intimidate the gator (me) but to also defend his loving/adoring wife who... 2- Is by now 20 yards away arms flailing in the air as she runs, screaming as if a gator (me) was about to make her lunch. So much for her sticking beside her loving man in times of a crisis. As a direct result of 1 & 2 happening, 2 other occurrences quickly followed: 1- I fall to the ground and roll on my back in absolute uncontrollable laughter. Equal parts pleasure at having done such a good job and elation that the reaction exceeded all expectations. 2- The few people that were in the vicinity cognizant of my shenanigans (I guess a preteen crawling up on two adults in a park gets some attention in and of itself) erupt in cheers and applause and pointing fingers. Wits were quickly collected, flailing arms went back down to a standard resting position, raised crane legs were lowered, benches were descended, eyebrows also were lowered, deep breaths were taken, hair was straightened, grass was brushed off clothing, and crowds slowly went on their way. Fortunately for me the prank was appreciated in due course of the afternoon no thanks to the occasional passing tourist at the park who pointed in my direction to his family laughing and nudging his kids.

Just a Coincidence

Due to a blogger that I recently discovered I was reminded by this coincidence that happened some 15 years ago... In college I had a good friend, Kalani Larsen. She moved up to San Francisco sophomore year. I missed her. She was a very cool chick. After senior year I found myself in San Francisco and took a chance. I picked up a phone and called 411. I inquired if there was a Kalani Larsen registered. No, but there was a K. Larsen with a listed number. "Okay, I'll try that one then." moments later: RING "Hello?" "Hi, is Kalani there?" slight pause and a hint of awkward stammering and confusion "Um, yeah... hold on" a slightly puzzled Kalani "Hello?" "Kalani?" "Yes. Who's this?" "It's Brico, from Redlands. How are you?" Long pause. One can sense there is confusion and bewilderment on her end of the line "I'm uh good. How... how are you?" "Im good. Say, I'm in your neck of the woods this weekend and was hoping we..." "I'm sorry man... How did you find me here?" "Excuse me?" "How... Where did you get this number?" Now I'm confused "How did I find your number? I called information. You're listed under K. Larsen. What are you talking about?" "What?" says a slow Kalani Now I'm really confused. Not exactly the reception I was expecting. I spell it out for her "I called 411 and asked for a listing for Kalani Larsen. They didn't have one, but they did have a listing for a K. Larsen. So I called it. So here we are talking. Kind of the way it works, no?" "Uh... no. Hold on." She speaks to the person who answered the phone "Kristen, what's your last name?" I hear faintly in the background "Larsen" "OH MY GOD!" she screams into the receiver. Now I'm beginning to understand myself. The number I called, the number listed under K. Larsen, was not Kalani's number at all! By some bizarre coincidence, the odds of which I couldn't begin to calculate, Kalani happened to be at this residence of Kristen Larsen (a friend of a friend) for only a few minutes for that very first time. I happened to call that number at that moment on that day. Any other day and Kristen would have said "Sorry bud, wrong number" Kalani and I did get together for a bite the next evening, but the coincidence overshadowed the evening. I failed in convincing her that it was a sign we were supposed to hook up. Like I said, she was a cool chick.

a true story

it must have been early april '95. i had just completed in country training with the peace corps in honduras. all the volunteers from our training group were off to our assigned sites where we experience and often endure a life that was to rob us of all luxuries to which we had grown accustomed in the states. though it wasnt prohibited it WAS discouraged for a volunteer to hitch rides across country, particularly alone. if you have ever traveled on a third world bus you know why hitching a ride in the back of a hog truck is preffered to the ordeal that goes on in a mass transit vehicle venturing city to city. on this particular morning i had the fortune to be picked up not by a hog truck but in a brand new government health department pickup. a ride in the cab noneless! the first 2 hours were pretty uneventful. the driver took his time around the dangerous mountain cliff roads and didnt press me for extensive conversation. it was when we made the turn off the main highway and headed away from the cities toward the outlying hill villages via a road less traveled that the memerable moments began. we were only 20 minutes out from where i was to be dropped off to make my way to my particular destination (las aradas for those who care to know mundane details) on a winding dirt road when we were passed by another truck traveling the same direction, but much faster. the older pickup now just ahead of us, swerves and comes to a dead stop in our path. the driver of my vehicle lets off the accelerator but doesnt apply the brake yet. just then the passenger door of the 'other guys' ride flies open and out jumps what has to have been the biggest pistol ever made carried by a man also wielding an angry expression that would have given pause to dirty harry himself. "jesus christ!" i find myself saying far louder than i needed to for my driver to hear adequately my concern for the moment. "si!" he responds. hmmmm, either the messiah's name translates fluidly across language barriers at times like these or he instinctively said the only word that came to HIS mind at the moment as i did. that angry faced gun took about 2 steps in our direction before my driver decided to channel dale ernhardt instantaniously (i know he hadnt died yet but work with me) and the accelator was punched and the wheels swirved edging us around the what i can now call the 'evil doers' and their weapon of mass intimidation. if youve ever been in a vehicle when a .44 rings into the side of it it is a sound you never hope to hear twice. unfortunately i heard it about 5 times within a minute (he must have missed with the 6th shot). meanwhile, there are a number of thoughts going through my mind. for some reason when youre curled up in a ball on a flying vehicle's floorboard because your very life is in danger you get the bright idea to hide your wallet under the floor mat (like not having any cash is going to garnish sympathy and save your life. as im stashing my loot the driver is managing to navigate the winding, sheer drop off, loose gravel road with a flawless touch while himself crotched beneath his floorboards with only one eye above the dashboard and one hand on the wheel. his other hand is simutaniously holding the c.b radio handpiece and frantically changing the channel on its base as he called for help (i dont know exactly whos listening to these channels in a 3rd world country, what kind of range he had, and what someone could have done IF they had actually heard him - but at the time i was extremely optimistic that putting word out to the tuned in world of our current predicament would quickly correct the wrongs that were upon us. noone ever responded. the high speed chase that ensued lasted about 3 minutes though it could have lasted 10 seconds for it to have been burned into my memory banks. at one point the pursuing vehicle had pulled along side us and not on the edge side either. fortunately THAT scenario was short lived and we managed to gain some ground on them. the light at the end of the tunnel came when we overtook yet another pickup going (quite slowly by comparison) in the same direction. as luck would have it, riding in the bed were 3 police officers. after rolling down my window the driver (having given up on the always useful c.b.) let them know of the ill intentions of that truck quickly coming up behind us. now the driver of the police truck could have easily accelerated faster and left us to fend for ourselves (and having lived in the country and seeing the honduran boys in blue in action such a move wouldnt have surprised me) fortunately these finest took the creed 'a protegir y servir' seriously. they slammed on their brakes, drew pistoles and began to fire upon the banditos from about 40 yards as they realize whats going on and do their best to change direction and return from whence they came. at this point i was just hoping that my driver was still planning on going straight ahead rather than turn around and help out the police. fortunately he was as eager to get to his destination as i was mine and onward we headed. shortly thereafter he pulled over at my dropoff to let me out. i grabbed my backpack from the back (no holes in it!) and waved him adios. i watched as he drove off further up the road creating a cloud of dust as the vehicle faded out of site. complete with my wallet and $200 u.s. cash still under the passenger side floormat!