Redefining Rockel

You know I never discuss female thermodynamics - Lou; Rescue Me

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The WORD of the Week

Matthew 3:7-10

But when he saw many of the Pharisees and Sadducees coming to where he was baptizing, he said to them: "You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the coming wrath?

Produce fruit in keeping with repentance.

And do not think you can say to yourselves, 'We have Abraham as our father.' I tell you that out of these stones God can raise up children for Abraham.

The ax is already at the root of the trees, and every tree that does not produce good fruit will be cut down and thrown into the fire.

Stupid Fact of the Week

There was only one civilian casualty during the three-day Battle of Gettysburg

30 November, 2005

Tales From NYC: Went To Hell's Kitchen, Going To Hell (Part the Final)

I shot Adam a look as if to say, I told you that you shouldn't have smoked away so much of the burnt offering. Now look what you've done!

He stared back at me with much less of the panic than I expected. That had all but melted away and in it's place was almost, you could say, amusement. Apparently Adam was on much better terms than I with the gods of cruel irony. It was as if he realized he had been caught with his hand inside the cookie jar, and instead of sheepishly cowering and begging for mercy he thrust his other hand in and ran off with double the booty.

Well, we had a good run at it, his face said. 'Had to end sometime, didn't it?
Yes, I thought, A good run. Now, just sit back and accept your fate. Walk the green mile with your head held high.

I was mentally preparing myself for what was to come, when Adam busts out laughing. Naturally, this draws a peculiar glance from the ladies. And me. With no regard to his volume or brazen accent he cried out, laughingly, "Ariel! Ariel!" Repeating the name of one of the blokes from last night.

"It's like Shakespeare. Who names their kid Ariel? He's a bloke, for cryin' out loud."
"I know," says I, having a good laugh and belting it just as loudly, "it's like that girlie mermaid thing. The cartoon."
"Like Shakespeare. Like the Tempest. Like... Mercutio. Horatio. Ariel!"
He laughed hysterically.
"Which one was bloody Ariel? I don't even know. I can't remember."
"I know. Who was he?"
"Was he the button lad?"

Oh, yes. We were going down in a blaze of fire that made the Hindenburg look like a sparkler.

The ladies were laughing right along with us, but my focus was behind us. I felt a disturbance in the force. I turned slightly. She was rising from her seat.

It was about to happen. The lever was about to be pulled; the axe about to fall. It was exhilarating.

Nothing happened.

I turned. Slowly.

She was walking toward the ladies room. As she disappeared behind the corner, our waitress appeared. Bringing our check. It was like our destruction and our salvation had just brushed against one another in an alternate dimension. And our salvation had one. And it was on it's way over to our table.

"Oh, the bill," says I.

Adam slid it over to his section of the table and opened it, revealing six small, individually wrapped Andes mints.

Now you, dear reader, have no doubt seen an Andes mint. No doubt you have also eaten one. I shall not take the time, then, to describe to you what one looks or tastes like. But I will remind you of something said many a time and oft forgot: Adam Shatarsky does not always think before he speaks.

But I will add this: I wouldn't have it any other way, because sometimes it is the funniest stuff you will ever hear.

The small black pad folded open revealing the six chocolate mints sitting neatly on our quaint little bill. Adam's eyes grew wide, and in the biggest, most excitable, overblown version of his dialect he blurted out:

"Fannie's your aunt, Bob's your uncle! We've got Chocolates!"

I lost it. All of it. Whatever it was, was lost. I shall probably never get it back.

The bill was paid, the goodbyes were said, the hugs were given. The ladies headed off in their direction, and we in ours.

I breathed a great sigh of relief. For me, the game was over.

For Adam... well... let me just put it this way...

To this day, and every day, he still receives emails from the lovely Christy.

posted by Rockel @ 3:25 PM

2 Comments:

At 30/11/05 6:04 PM, Anonymous said…

I can't believe you didn't get caught in it!!! that's insane...
At 30/11/05 8:01 PM, Anonymous said…

i can't believe you didn't get caught either!!

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Lyrics of the Week

ON THE NICKEL
by Tom Waits

("I'd like to do a new song here. This is eh, it's about downtown Los Angeles on 5th Street. And eh all the winos affectionately refer to it as The Nickel. So this is kind of a hobo's lullaby.")

sticks and stones will break my bones,
but i always will be true, and when
your mama is dead and gone,
i'll sing this lullabye just for you,
and what becomes of all the little boys,
who never comb their hair,
well they're lined up all around the block,
on the nickel over there.

so you better bring a bucket,
there is a hole in the pail,
and if you don't get my letter,
then you'll know that i'm in jail,
and what becomes of all the little boys,
who never say their prayers,
well they're sleepin' like a baby,
on the nickel over there.

and if you chew tobacco, and wish upon a star,
well you'll find out where the scarecrows sit,
just like punchlines between the cars,
and i know a place where a royal flush,
can never beat a pair, and even thomas jefferson,
is on the nickel over there.

so ring around the rosie, you're sleepin' in the rain,
and you're always late for supper,
and man you let me down again,
i thought i heard a mockingbird, roosevelt knows where,
you can skip the light, with grady tuck,
on the nickel over there.

so what becomes of all the little boys,
who run away from home,
well the world just keeps gettin' bigger,
once you get out on your own,
so here's to all the little boys,
the sandman takes you where,
you'll be sleepin' with a pillowman,
on the nickel over there.

so let's climb up through that button hole,
and we'll fall right up the stairs,
and i'll show you where the short dogs grow,
on the nickel over there.