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November 18, 2005
Caffeine, Aspirina, and Tylenol
Last night, I had some of the neighbors over for pheasant catchatori. They’re really good neighbors, and I’ve taken advantage of their hospitality for far too long. So, with a freezer full of pheasant, I figured I’d attempt to lure them over and do a little fence mending. I’ve got a lot of fences to mend with lots of neighbors, but the longest journey begins with a single step.
So they came over with wine and wild rice and we all sat down to and began telling lies and drinking heavily until I was thoroughly soaked in alcohol and the kitchen floor was covered in pheasant blood and the women were licking the inside of the picture windows and even the coyotes stopping howling and came to see just what was going down at the compound.
When I climbed into my bed some time around midnight, I was surprisingly inebriated by a nearly lethal cocktail of cabernet sauvignon, Pacifico, and whatever drugs the mind-control collar was secreting. I had a hauntingly, lucid dream where I was diverting from that freezing cloud wall just south of Scott’s Bluff and making an unscheduled landing at night and how the pilot told us to make phone calls and check in and I told him I had no one to call. But somehow, I must have been really lying in my bed, cause I was just dog-tired, laying there in a pool of pheasant blood and feathers, shivering in the cold cause Xcel Energy had shut off the gas again and suddenly this giant pheasant flew into the bedroom and covered me up, like a hen on eggs in a snowstorm. And when I woke up in the morning, it was gone, and I was just lying naked on the bed in a pool of feathers.
At work, I started pounding caffeine, Aspirina, and Tylenol. I was so tired I could hardly hold my head up. Then, the boss called me into a secret meeting. Apparently, part of my probation is that I have to have weekly meetings where we talk about my progress or lack thereof. So, I’m sitting there with my tail between my legs, bobbing my head like I’m in the principals office in elementary school for playground transgressions.
And the next thing I know, he’s repeating what I said in the Monday meeting word for word. Like he was recording me. And then, he’s projecting the meeting as seen through my eyes onto the wall and it suddenly dawns on me that there’s a video camera in the collar.
“Y’all are filming me?”
“Well…not exactly. We’re recording what you say and filming what you see.”
And suddenly, my mind flashes back to last night and the giant pheasant that flew into my bedroom.
“Did you see it? Did you film what happened last night?”
But he just sits there and smiles at me and says “Company policy says that what you do in your bedroom is not of consequence to us.”
“Who said anything about my bedroom? Where did that come from?” I ask.
But he just gave me that blank public-sector shark-eyed, deer-in-the-headlights stare, betraying no signs of comprehension.
“Did you see the bird?” I asked.
But he just smiled and dismissed me with a wave of his hand.
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Posted by Peenie Wallie on November 18, 2005 at 12:53 PM
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