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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: People
- Hits: 1894
He greets all the girls as they get on the bus, he's sat up near the driver, slouched, but when they board he sits up and smiles and waves and says hello.
There's something not right with him. It's late at night, I've seen him on the bus before, he must have a job downtown. There's a large scar on his forehead, his eyes go in different directions, his face looks as though he'd survived - barely - a severe automobile accident. I'm not sure if he was born this way or it was an accident.
He's alone, after he says "hi" he gets all shy and slouches over again, forefinger stuck up his nose.
He misses a girl getting on the bus, misses his greeting, and so she doesn't pick up that things aren't quite right with him and sits near the front of the bus.
Eventually he looks up, recognizes the new arrival and waves hello. "Hi" he says. "Cold outside, isn't it?". He doesn't sound slow.
"Sure is" she replies, and he gets all shy again and begins picking his nose. After a few minutes he screws up his courage to chat. "When I get home I'm going to watch Fear Friday on...." and he names a channel.
"Oh" she says, regretting now that she sat so near the front. "Do you like horror movies?"
"Love them" he replies. "They're my favorite. I love zombies and vampires and ...." and the conversation begins. The bus is quiet.
There's something unnerving about him, the ambiguity of his disability, and there's something so perfect about his favorite movie genre, the girl now, perhaps she's entertaining thoughts of him following her home as he outlines in vivid detail the gory details of his private obsession, yet it's somehow a moment that Jack Nicholson would be proud of....
- Details
- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: People
- Hits: 2051
She's there first thing when I show up. The resident artist.
She hangs about the restaurant while your setting up, for no reason in particular, just hanging out. She's about 60, terrible hair, heavily overweight, obviously plastic teeth carefully molded into the original overbite by an sadistically meticulous dentist. She has a particularly vapid smile which she imagines to be charming. It's just offputting.
The staff despise her.
She hangs out, follows the owner about, talking to him...she just wants to keep in touch, and staff ignore her until she manages to catch someone's eye and avails herself of the opportunity to ask for a cappuccino. She's a freeloader. After the cappuccino she'll drop hints to the owner, she'd love some food, dessert maybe....but while she's drinking the cappuccino she talks about her many ailments. Her hip, her back, slipped discs, she's got these magnets that a friend gave her and they're doing her a world of good (and one is tempted to observe that placebos work best with psycho-somatic ailments, but she wouldn't get it...).
After a while the owner gets busy and so she follows the staff around, she has pictures of her work on a digital camera she's just happened to bring with her, commonplace mountain scenes and landscapes, they look passable, although anything looks passable when reduced to the size of a one inch LCD display. There are cougars and wolves as well, and we feign interest and remark upon her obvious talent.
We're obviously lying, but it's what she wants to hear.
And she hangs about a bit longer, mooching, trying to stick a finger in every dessert that comes out of the fridge, waiting for the owner to offer her some food but he's busy and forgets and so eventually she runs out of people to show her pictures to and she just disappears.
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: People
- Hits: 2078
I sit outside to smoke. It's nice, the weather's good, the cat curls protectively at my side. The neighbor to my right, he's about my age, balding, overweight, bad leather jacket, he's always home, his son, twenty-something, is paying the rent, the neighbor, he's at home, sometimes he takes his dog for a walk.
It's a small dog, shit zhu or terrier or some-such.
When his son is working he's outside talking on his cellphone. About condo's and real estate and large deals that are just about to go through with a bit more capital investment....He's loud, loud enough to overhear, loud enough that if I was in the least bit interested I could disclose the most intimate details of his imagined corporate life. But I'm not interested, not even just a little bit, and my indifference just makes him talk even louder.
Big numbers. 25 units, $400,000 a unit...having a problem hiring...everyone's going to do real well out of this...buy now....you'll see...
He's a big talker.
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: People
- Hits: 1761
Carmellina, she's worked there almost 30 years, 70 years old now, she's been there since the restaurant first opened. The other Italian ladies have been there over 20 years each, but they aren't as competent, salads and prep is what they're good at, they don't know the recipes, can't work on their own...
The regular customers, they cut through the kitchen after their meals, praise the food, thank the owner, nod and say hi to the women in the kitchen, they should know them but they don't, just a general "hi" and a wave in their direction, then they exit through the back door.Carmellina, still one of the sharpest knives in the drawer, smiling she waves goodbye back, "fuck-a-you very much" she says, and her eyes glitter behind her glasses.
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: People
- Hits: 1647
I couldn't resist. But tell me this isn't far, far scarier than the original Darth Vader...I think it's the eyes...