Alan Moore, �Swamp Thing: Earth to Earth�
Those of you who don�t have Diaryland don�t know this, but when I login at this Web site there�s a little message box at the bottom showing the last time I updated. If it only been a day or two you don�t think anything of it, but once three or more days pass, it looks petulant. Once it passes the seven-day mark, it looks downright accusatory.
�Monkey-king: Updated seven days ago.�
�You want to take that snot out of your voice before I knock it out of you, Diaryland,�
�What? I�m just saying.�
�I know you�re just saying, but do you have any idea what my day was like?�
How could I? You haven�t written anything in...�
�Hey! What�d I just say?� I hold my knuckles close to the screen for emphasis.
�Oh yeah, tough little monkey-king who doesn�t update in a week. Just what was your day like?�
- 8:30 a.m. Wake, eat, shit, shower, shave, brush teeth. I�m pretty sure that was the order.
- 9:10 Jump on bicycle and ride to campus to take midterm.
- 9:35 Walk into class five minutes late. Still manage to finish the test 20 minutes flat, making myself the third person to leave.
- 10:10 Back on my bike, headed for work at THE COMPANY.
- 10:15 At the last minute I turn back to my house to change my shirt and pick up a book. I changed my shirt because I realized I was wearing the Ramones shirt I picked up when I saw them on the Brain Drain tour, and I didn�t want anybody asking me if we carried it in a Youth Small. I changed into my Prisoner shirt, because they just recently issued me an employee number.
Last time I worked, one of the employees asked me what my number was. I emulated the first episode of that show, where Patrick McGoohan looked shocked and appalled at that very same question and said simply, �I am not a number. I am a person.�
They didn�t get it. And yes, this is working out to be quite the sequel to my book.
And speaking of books, why did I need to go home to pick one up? I�ll get to that.
- 10:20 Again on the bicycle, on my way to the mall.
- 11:01 I walk in and start a conversation with the manager to see if I can expect eventually getting more than four hours a week. She says we�ll discuss it later, as I was one minute late clocking in as of that moment.
- 12:00 p.m. I�m absolutely horrified when I see some of the new stock � we have a brand new shipment of NoFX shirts.
This needs explaining. From probably 1986 to 1991, I went to pretty see NoFX pretty much anytime they played at Gilman, which was usually once or twice a month. Up until 1990 or thereabout, the band were still making these crappy, homemade, poorly screened shirts on cheap white cotton T-shirts. Since they weren�t putting a lot of effort into fancy designs, they usually had a childish drawing on the back with tour dates. I still have one of these shirts from their �Under-wa-tour� in 1986.
My point? THE COMPANY obtained a re-released shirt from 1988, complete with tour dates, and mass-produced it, selling them for $17.99 a pop.
- 1:00 The music playing as ambient noise today at THE COMPANY is better than normal. I�ve heard a couple of Flogging Molly songs, a bit of NoFX, the Clash, Operation Ivy, The Ramones, The Misfits, and a few songs from the first AFI album. This actually makes my day worse when I realize that I own most of the records they decided to play. I decide I must quit very, very soon.
- 1:30 A female customer says she�s going to be �a punk� for Halloween, and asks what she should buy to look authentic. I answer with, �well, if you�re really trying to be authentic, I should tell you that no self-respecting punk would shop here.�
- 2:00 A new manager begins her shift, and switches the music to some screamie-industrial band. She says they need a current phone number for me, as they tried to call me to offer me another shift and couldn�t find me. I remember how she always happens to mention � unprompted � how she has a child. I give her the number which I know is correct, but tell her to call and make sure just so she can get my answering machine message, which I culled from Home Movies. The message features two characters, Jason, and Melissa. The conversation goes as such:
Melissa: �I love this new car.�
Jason: �Me too. Do you know what else I love?�
M: �What�s that?�
J: �You.�
M: �Yeah. We should run over some children.�
J: �Yes, let�s go kill children.�
[beep!]
She stared at me for a second, then finally told me it was an answering machine with two people talking.
�Did they mention killing children?� I asked.
�Yeah, they did.�
�OK, that�s my number.�
She looked at me like I was a total freak. Yeah, lady. You�re the one with the silver contact lenses and wearing four inch moon boots that are covered in faux-fur � in Hawaii � and I�m the freak.
�Well,� she said finally, �I guess I won�t ask you to babysit.�
�Oh, that�s right,� I said. �You have kids, don�t you?�
Heh, heh, heh
- 3:10 My shift is supposed to be finished. I�m still here. If they try and write me up for being a minute late, I�m gonna write them up for keeping me longer.
- 3:20 I finally demand to go, as I have to get to the copy editing job. Just to prove I�m a total hypocrite because of what I said at 1:30, I return the Gir figure I bought last week. I debated the ramifications of purchasing something at a store I hated, but eventually capitulated. I brought it home, intending to mount it to my computer monitor, between the Ash and Daredevil figures, Just to the left of my homemade Diorama of the beast from Alien pushing Cookie Monster on a skateboard.
Yes, yes, fine. I�m a dork. In any case, I took it out of the packaging and discovered it was broken. So now I was making them do a return. When they asked me to state why I was returning the item, I wrote �Shoddy merchandise.�
Knowing how they have a policy against satanic influences, I thought about saying the devil made me do it, but I was happy with my response.
- 3:23 Suffered the final indignation at work, as they searched my bag to make sure I wasn�t stealing.
And this, ladies and gentlemen, is why I went home to get the book.
I had emptied out my entire bag, putting one book in its place.
Specifically, this book. When they looked through my personal items, this was the only thing they saw. That was probably enough.
- 3:30 Rode back to the campus to work at Job Number Two, giggling all the while.
- 4:00 Arrived at the school paper and proceeded changing ten million passive sentences into active ones.
- 6:00 Back on the bike.
- 6:15 Ran back into my house to collect records and CD�s, as Job Number Three at the club featured a few punk bands, and the owner said I could DJ between their sets.
- 6:30 Discovered the club already had DJ�s set up for the night.
- 7:15 Show begins. The first band is a ska band. Second up is a punk band, complete with Misfits cover song. Third band is light death rock. The entire event feels like it should feature Marlo Thomas as MC, telling us all that we�re free to be.
- 10:00 Show ends. 80s Night begins. Thankfully, Ghostbusters does not play.
- 1:00 a.m. I�m recognized by a Hot Topic shopper. I reminisce when I used to be recognized in bars as being �The bookstore guy.�
- 2:00 Club closes. Time to stop living in the past, people.
- 4:00 Arrive at home again. Pour large glass of whiskey and coke and start typing.
- 5:00 Pour another.
- 6:00 Yep. Another.
- 6:15 Noticed the sun rose when I wasn�t looking.
- 6:45 Finish entry. Begin copy editing. Again.
- 7:10 Fix HTML.
- 7:30 a.m. Posted entry and ready to go to sleep.
Next time, I swear I�ll talk about Hawaii.
Or the book.
Maybe even both.