Outworlder Materialized
It was a gloomy winter night at ‘Tidewaters’ on Atlantic Avenue in East Rockaway. The owner, who I’ll call Sam Slick, had owned other bars in Valley Stream and Rockville Centre, had a way of pissing off his bartenders and janitor.
His bartender at the time was a young Yaega Lee and a long haired, wooley faced, mildly psychotic, redneck country dude who did clean up and whatever else needed to be done, including backing up the bartender.
The janitor was not happy with Sam Slick and let him know he was incredibly depressed about how he was being treated and how he was being paid. The janitor also let Sam Slick know he didn’t like the way Yaega was being treated either. The janitor had his hair braded in Rasta style corn rows and wore black army boots, usually covered in shit from the overflowing toilets at ‘Tidewaters’. After that long night the janitor got on the phone with Sam Slick and the conversation went something like this:
“Sam, I’ve worked for you off and on for years, you talk about me like a piece of shit to all your so called friends, I get treated like a fucking leper in the place I work and you can’t even call me by my name when I’m working…I’m a man, not a thing! Fuck you Sam, fuck this bar and screw your coke snorting friends. After tonight you will never treat me like this again. I’ll fix you.” Sam heard what sounded like sobbing and his sadistic streak flared up.
Sam screamed into the phone trying to be heard over the jukebox, “Fuck you, you goddamed ingrate, I’ll see you in the morning and you’ll get everything you got coming you fucking long haired hippie freak…go back to the 60’s where you belong.” Sam was irate, that janitor got under his skin and he was going to make him sweat for his money. Sam was gonna fix this asshole. It was 3:30 AM.
When Sam walked into Tidewaters just after dawn, the bar was in a shambles, empty beer bottles were all over the place, broken glass was on the floor and the radio was blasting heavy metal mind bending sound. Sam was pissed and started walking behind the bar when he found the note. “Tell them all I love them, you’ll never screw me again….goodbye!” It was the smell that attracted Sam to the back area. That got him running, his eyes took it in and his face went pale.
The lifeless body hung from the dog chain noose, the cornrows, ponytail and shit stained boots left no doubt that it was Sam’s distraught janitor, N.F., hanging from the neck. Yaega had come in the bar behind Sam and walked to the back and saw N.F.’s dangling body hanging from a dog chain, she screamed. “Do something Sam, get him down, get him down, shouted Yaega. Sam who pissed himself, cringed as he put his arms around the lifeless corps and lifted it up.
The cornrow wig fell off, and the chain gave way from the loose pvc pipe, the stuffed coat revealed the blow up doll covered in garden manure, the real looking human face mask on the dummy had a note on the forehead “Look What You’ve Done”. The laughter from a hiding place and the half empty bottle of ice cold Heineken was enough. Sam was the victim of N.F.’s vengeance. Yaega laughed hysterically. (Sam Slick squared it with N.F.)
Lets fast forward to the here and now.
N.F. has a long history to those who have been part of the bar scene in the late 90’s and early 2K’s. He disappeared in the woods of Upstate N.Y. in a move that was staged from several locations including Bears Garage. After one warm autumn a few years passed, he left “downstate” swearing not to return if he could help it. An event came up and he couldn’t help being at, so he materialized.
Extraterrestrials were meeting in a hangar at Kennedy Airport to discuss migration, logistics and disbursements for outworlders working on earth during a recent Sunday past. N.F. came in the Saturday Night before(Dec. 6) to catch up with old friends. The only one to show up on that snowy Saturday Night was Yaega Lee. The three of us were at ‘Game On’ talking the night away and catching up on life. All in all, a good time. There are other bar stories about N.F. and the outworlders to be blogged about in another time, maybe another place.
The janitor was not happy with Sam Slick and let him know he was incredibly depressed about how he was being treated and how he was being paid. The janitor also let Sam Slick know he didn’t like the way Yaega was being treated either. The janitor had his hair braded in Rasta style corn rows and wore black army boots, usually covered in shit from the overflowing toilets at ‘Tidewaters’. After that long night the janitor got on the phone with Sam Slick and the conversation went something like this:
“Sam, I’ve worked for you off and on for years, you talk about me like a piece of shit to all your so called friends, I get treated like a fucking leper in the place I work and you can’t even call me by my name when I’m working…I’m a man, not a thing! Fuck you Sam, fuck this bar and screw your coke snorting friends. After tonight you will never treat me like this again. I’ll fix you.” Sam heard what sounded like sobbing and his sadistic streak flared up.
Sam screamed into the phone trying to be heard over the jukebox, “Fuck you, you goddamed ingrate, I’ll see you in the morning and you’ll get everything you got coming you fucking long haired hippie freak…go back to the 60’s where you belong.” Sam was irate, that janitor got under his skin and he was going to make him sweat for his money. Sam was gonna fix this asshole. It was 3:30 AM.
When Sam walked into Tidewaters just after dawn, the bar was in a shambles, empty beer bottles were all over the place, broken glass was on the floor and the radio was blasting heavy metal mind bending sound. Sam was pissed and started walking behind the bar when he found the note. “Tell them all I love them, you’ll never screw me again….goodbye!” It was the smell that attracted Sam to the back area. That got him running, his eyes took it in and his face went pale.
The lifeless body hung from the dog chain noose, the cornrows, ponytail and shit stained boots left no doubt that it was Sam’s distraught janitor, N.F., hanging from the neck. Yaega had come in the bar behind Sam and walked to the back and saw N.F.’s dangling body hanging from a dog chain, she screamed. “Do something Sam, get him down, get him down, shouted Yaega. Sam who pissed himself, cringed as he put his arms around the lifeless corps and lifted it up.
The cornrow wig fell off, and the chain gave way from the loose pvc pipe, the stuffed coat revealed the blow up doll covered in garden manure, the real looking human face mask on the dummy had a note on the forehead “Look What You’ve Done”. The laughter from a hiding place and the half empty bottle of ice cold Heineken was enough. Sam was the victim of N.F.’s vengeance. Yaega laughed hysterically. (Sam Slick squared it with N.F.)
Lets fast forward to the here and now.
N.F. has a long history to those who have been part of the bar scene in the late 90’s and early 2K’s. He disappeared in the woods of Upstate N.Y. in a move that was staged from several locations including Bears Garage. After one warm autumn a few years passed, he left “downstate” swearing not to return if he could help it. An event came up and he couldn’t help being at, so he materialized.
Extraterrestrials were meeting in a hangar at Kennedy Airport to discuss migration, logistics and disbursements for outworlders working on earth during a recent Sunday past. N.F. came in the Saturday Night before(Dec. 6) to catch up with old friends. The only one to show up on that snowy Saturday Night was Yaega Lee. The three of us were at ‘Game On’ talking the night away and catching up on life. All in all, a good time. There are other bar stories about N.F. and the outworlders to be blogged about in another time, maybe another place.
RJ
1 comment:
Great story.....bad joke. Whatever. Someone got what they deserved.
Did it help??
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