Bag This

Once when I was 16 years old I worked as a bagger for a grocery store named Winn-Dixie. I worked as a bagger upfront for a year before I was upgraded to the dairy department. Thats not true, I was just never up front bagging and they just put me back there so I could actually do work while I slacked. One fond memory of my time bagging was when an older lady bought a pregnancy test and I let words pour from behind my teeth like an oil spill. I picked up the pregnancy test, waved it around in the air and said,

"So, do you want a baby or are you just making sure?"

In my head it seemed like a perfectly good question of a complete stranger could ask anyone.

She looked at me, jaw dropped, and said " That, is, Personal!" with a capitol P. I realized I had just made a horrible mistake and walked away from bagging her groceries.

Come back soon for the story of when I got caught stealing KY while on the job, its a good one.

Double Negative: The Mental Handicap

Life Lessons: Think before you talk.

Between my career in middle school, and high school, I have had my heavy dosing of ridicule,teasing, and bullying. Anything from getting my locker swung open and my papers spilled everywhere, to getting knocked off my block a time or two. Not because I was "that" kid, I asked to be "that" kid. Any chance I got, I ran my mouth; and I ran it a lot. Maybe it was the fact that I was born dead with shit in my lungs. Most of the time I pushed anyones buttons that I didn't like until I found the right one that set them off. I was never really into fighting back, I just like to see how much of a rise I can get out of someone; even to this day.

A couple years ago, the group of friends I that used to call my click, used to go to Village Inn late at night. It was one of those late nights that about eight of us piled into one booth, waiting to devour some soft buttery pancakes. Like usual we were telling all the usual round of jokes, stupid pointless stories, and observations we had at our disposal. Throughout the talking we somehow got on the topic of the old days. I'm not talking like our parents days, I'm talking the 1800's. He/She (Memory slip) was talking about how embarrassed he/she (there we go again) was that our founder fathers had slaves. I found this to be an ignorant comment and proceeded to explain "Listen dude/dudet(I've stopped with the drugs), everyone back then had slaves. It was the norm, so it is not a big deal." Now, I didn't just say this, I projected it. I wanted my two cents to be heard over everyone else chiming in with their own. Like a baby bird screaming to have my mom throw up the worm she just ate into my mouth. Give me your ears.

Some of my friends chuckled; the rest stared straight through me with an expression of disbelief. Lo and behold, there was a middle aged black man sitting two booths behind us. There was no doubt that he had just heard my sentence out of context, and translated to, "Slaves are OK by me".

We moved forward with our conversation, onto much more important topics, like boobies or zombie take overs. I can't recall how exactly we got to the topic(I'm reading books on brain exercises for memory), all I recall is my reenactment; golden globe worthy. During the conversation, a verb came up and I saw the chance to get some cheap, but well thought out laughs. I preceded to throw my right limp hand against my chest with the force of a thousand apes; I sir, was retarded. We finished our food and were waiting patiently on our checks as I heard a banging that will never leave my ears. The sound of metal, squeaky metal, metal being unfolding into a chair. I did not even need to turn around to know. The man two booths behind us was both, Black and Handicap.

If you have never been to a Village Inn, you should, you pay the bill at the front of the house. We stood in line waiting to pay, all eight of us, one cashier. The middle aged black man in the wheel chair rolled up right behind me in line and stared me down the entire time; or stared me up, however you want to look at it. There I go again, running my mouth.

All kinds of no.

Me: It's my birthday! Give me a free shot.

Female Bartender: No

Me: Come on, pleeeeease?

Female Bartender: Happy birthday.

Shes throws me a Jello shot.

Me: Thank you! I'd fuck you if you'd let me........

Now, in my head this sounded like such a great compliment.

Yelling it drunkenly to a Bartender.........not so much.

Screenplay: Crazy Carol and the THREAT

INT. 2ND FLOOR MASTER GUEST BEDROOM - NIGHT

A pale yellow room with plain walls. A mess of clothes scattered around the floor.

A computer BLARES a You Tube video with AUSTIN and IAN watching intently.

Austin is a tall, awkward, and skinny looking man. Longish hair with bags under his eyes from a long day. Wearing jeans and a black sweater jacket. Ian is a medium figure, short hair, not with a receding hair line but he worries about it. Wearing a plain blue shirt, dark green shirts and black rimmed glasses.

AUSTIN

Dude, I love it when people do stupid shit

IAN

It gets me every time, buddy. Lets watch this......

Ian is stopped mid sentence by a door opening downstairs.

Austin and Ian both cautiously walk down stairs to investigate.

INT 1ST FLOOR CONDO - NIGHT

Lime green living room with grey and dark green couches. Most of the decorations of the room do not match one another; but come together to form a complete room. Kitchen connects to the living room with an open walk way clearly visible from the living room. Bright red walls with chips in the paint. Full appliances, black in color.

Standing at the door is DJ RECKLESS with an oversized white shirt, dated Jinco jeans, pierced middle of lip, and a backwards hat on. On his right is CRAZY CAROL in a black shirt, too tight for her age, jeans, and frizzed out long blond hair. Both in their mid to late 30's.

We see fear and unsureness in Ian and Austin's eyes as they turn the corner to find the two walking through the door, uninvited.

DJ RECKLESS

(Drunkenly)

Yo man what's happening guys?

CRAZY CAROL

(Drunk Stutter)

Hey!

AUSTIN + IAN

(Sigh)

Hey

Austin puts his hand to his temples and starts to rub and shake his head. DJ Reckless and Crazy Carol stumble over to the closest couch and sit down.

DJ RECKLESS

What you getting into tonight?

IAN

(Fabricating)

We were just doing some studying. You know, we got school tomorrow and all.

CRAZY CAROL

(Shouting)

Schools for fools! I didn't do graduation, now I got my thing that I do when I serve pancakes to the people that ask for them in the morning.

Austin now pulling his hands away from his head.

AUSTIN

(puzzled)

What the fuck was that? Why did you just walk in our house?

DJ RECKLESS

(Sincerely)

Just wanted to see what you all are up to dog. I brought over some beer lets just have one then we'll go.

IAN

(Optimistic)

Well, thats not so bad I guess. Let me put these in the fridge.

Ian hands DJ Reckless and Crazy Carol a beer and walks to the kitchen to throw away the empty beer case. Austin follows to kitchen.

AUSTIN

(Laughingly)

We need to get them out of here.

IAN

Yes, yes we do. Especially when they are doing that on our couch.

Over Austin's shoulder Ian sees DJ Reckless and Crazy Carol start to make out drunkenly. Austin places his hands back to his temples.

AUSTIN

(Sigh)

I hate this neighborhood man. This dudes like 35, has three kids, and still calls himself DJ reckless.

IAN

(Laughing)

Not to mention, that lady is crazy as hell. I think she is on every pill she can get her hands on.

From the living room you hear giggles of a school girl. A fat, crazy, and drunk girl. Austin looks at Ian with a devilish smile and puts his hand to his chin.

AUSTIN

(Thinking)

I think I have an idea to make them leave

IAN

I don't like your ideas. They always end up with us running from something.

Austin walks over to the couch unoccupied by the couple. Ian follows and sits in the love seat.

AUSTIN

(Serious)

So, are you guys going to do it on our couch?

DJ RECKLESS

(Laughs)

Man you crazy.

CRAZY CAROL

(Shocked)

Gross, why would you ask that? I would not never couldn't want to do that ever if I thought I could. I want another beer.

IAN

You can't have another beer, you are out.

CRAZY CAROL

(Drunkenly)

Bullshit! I know you have beer. Give me one, I want one.

IAN

Uh, no dude. You can't have our beer we need that.

CRAZY CAROL

Oh my god you are so rude. Its just one beer. Jesus.

IAN

(Annoyed)

Yeah, and we paid for it. We are poor. We need that beer.

AUSTIN

So are you guys going to do it on this couch or what?

CRAZY CAROL

(Angry)

Stop it. I want a beer.

AUSTIN

I'll tell you what. You give DJ Reckless a blow job, I'll give you a beer.

DJ RECKLESS

(Laughs)

Man, come on. You crazy dog, come on. Seriously?

CRAZY CAROL

(Zoning in and out of reality)

I want a beer! I work too hard to not have a beer.

AUSTIN

So you are not going to give him a blow job?

Silence falls over the room and Crazy Carol zones in and out of reality. Austin gets up and goes up stairs to check his computer. After a few minutes Ian follows.

IAN

I can't believe you left me down there man. I couldn't take it.

AUSTIN

Dude, we got to get them out of our house.

From down stairs a loud CRASH, followed by SHOUTING. Ian and Austin look at each other and shake their heads both heading downstairs in a hurry.

AUSTIN

(Annoyed)

What the fuck was that?

From the kitchen DJ Reckless is standing over Crazy Carol who is on the floor in front of an open fridge. Beer surrounds Crazy Carol, along with some chocolate cake.

IAN

(Laughing but annoyed)

Our fucking cake? Are you serious?

CRAZY CAROL

(Past the point of drunk)

I wanted a beer. You didn't give me a beer, so I went and got one.

IAN

You spilt most of our beer; keyword "our" beer. Then you ruined our cake.

AUSTIN

You have to clean this up.

CRAZY CAROL

I ain't cleaning up nothing. I did the batter cake made with a pan.

Austin with a puzzled look on his face reaches and grabs the paper towels off the counter.

AUSTIN

Here.

Austin throws the paper towels at Crazy Carol.

CRAZY CAROL

What the fuck? I am not cleaning this

IAN

If you don't clean it you need to leave; or give DJ reckless a blow job.

CRAZY CAROL

(Shouting)

No! Im going to drink my beer.

AUSTIN

Thats not your beer.

CRAZY CAROL

Whatever

DJ RECKLESS

Come on Carol, lets get out of here.

CRAZY CAROL

I'll leave when Im done with my fucking beer.

Austin looking at Ian with anger puts his hands back to his temples and starts to rub with frustration; looking down at the floor.

AUSTIN

Last chance Carol.

Crazy Carol says nothing as she pours out the rest of her beer onto the cake that is sitting on the floor.

Austin take a deep breathe, hesitates,and pulls down his pants. Austin is bare ass in the kitchen with just a shirt on and pants around his ankles.

AUSTIN

(Calmly)

I need you, to suck my dick, or get the fuck out of my house.

Everyone in the kitchen erupts into screams of laughter. Crazy Carol is appalled and leaves.

SCENE.

This baby has a dent. Can I get it for discount?

Right now I am sitting in a completely purple room, listening to jazz music that is way over my head and thinking about, well, shit. I didn't know where I should start with this, so I figured I would take it back to the beginning - when I was birthed.

March 18, 1987: I was born into this world at 12:34? 12:43? 12:33? 12:54? Anyways, that's not really what I mean to say; I'm trying to say I was born dead. How was I almost a dumpster baby you wonder?

Was I a still born? Cliche. Born Premature? Who wasn't? Dropped on my head? That's coming later, trust me. Mom got to drunk for St Patrick's day and gave birth to me in a rat infested alley? I can only wish! Actually, I ate my own shit. No, seriously, I really can't make that up; let me repeat it. I ate my own shit.

Apparently when I was a fetus, I got so impatient waiting to be born, that I just went ahead and let one go. Now that I look back at it, this has been a pattern for my entire life. Not taking an uncontrollable crap per say, but being so impatient. Personally, I blame it on Internet porn and video games, but I'm no doctor. Anyways, where was I? Oh yes, eating my own shit, born dead, blah blah blah. There I was, hanging out, trying not to be born, raising hell in my mother's uterus. That's about the time I see this alien matter I have never seen before. It smelled like fish, (I loved fish at a young age ) come to think of it everything kind of smelled like fish back then, weird. So naturally, I inhaled it. Literally, I inhaled all of it. That's about the time someone on the outside of the womb noticed things were going very, very wrong. I can only imagine what was said. "The baby's heartbeat just stopped, we need to save his life." or "Five bucks says that baby just ate his own shit and is choking to death." Pretty sure it was a mixture of both with a couple of laughs sprinkled in for good measure. To get me out as soon as possibly from the womb and save my life, the doctor uses forceps. Kind of like needle nose pliers, but for getting a baby out of a vagina. In all of the hurry and all of the rush, I managed to get a fracture on the left side of my skull. Did my parent sue? Nope. I just got to keep a cool dent that I whip out when I meet people for the first time. Kind of like a freak show. It doesn't get me laid or anything, but people seem to really warm up to you when you announce your flaws right off the bat. Now again, I'm no doctor, but everything wrong with me, is on the left side of my body, just like my dent. Coincidence? I have skin the texture of an orange peel on my left knee. A bone growth behind that same knee, and my left testicle is all kinds of fucked up. I digress. The doctors did manage to whisk me away after being born and pump the poo out of my lungs; I am very thankful for that. When I look back now and think about now- hows that for foreshadowing - wait what the fuck did I just say? Anyways, I inhaled my own feces, but was given a second chance at life. If I subliminally learned anything from this experience, it was to chew my food. This explains why I remain such a skinny awkward figure instead of some lard based soul. I should probably write a book about force feeding your babies shit so they don't become fat kids. I don't think it would catch on though; so many mothers are already force fed so much shit it would never trickle down to the babies. Speaking of eating shit, anyone heard Trickle Down?

Skip ahead a year or two, my family lives in Maryland, and I am one cute baby. My dad is doing that thing parents do when they throw the baby up in the air and hold them above their head to get a laugh or to shut up a crying baby. At the time I was not having any of that. Given that I'm a fucking baby, 6 - 7 feet is like the earth to the moon at that age. Now I was told I was naked at the time, which I have to ask, what is my dad doing throwing me to the moon and back naked? In the middle of all of this there was an Apollo 13 like moment; and in my dad's words. "Ya took a shit right in my face." Well of course, I was dropped, and probably on my left side. Which now that I think about it, might be the true story behind this dent.