fat loaded with
sugary goodness. Definitely hospital disapproved.
Cathy put down
her pen and pushed the notepad aside, leaning forward on her elbows
again. Reporter mode off, intimate conversation mode engaged.
“It is good to see you,
Joe. I’m sorry it’s been so long.”
“Life. It
happens.” I shrugged again and shoveled in more cake. Heaven.
“Don’t be sorry.”
“We all
wondered what happened to you. One day you were there in Kaye’s
advertising class. The next …”
Delicious cake
suddenly tasted like ashes in my mouth. The jukebox speakers hissed
again while the lights overhead flickered, like a power surge had
just swept through the strip mall.
I tried for
lighthearted.
“Yeah well …
Some of us couldn’t wait til’ graduation for our careers to
start.”
Cathy’s face
turned sympathetic. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“I really
don’t.” Pushed the cake plate aside, suddenly full. “In fact I
don’t want to talk at all.”
“Why not?”
I sighed.
“ ‘ Cause
there’s nothing to say, Cathy.” My knuckles cracked as I locked my
fingers together, leaning forward on the table as well. “I get why
you’re here. It’s good to see you. So good that I don’t even mind
you using our college friendship to try and score an exclusive with
the idiot bouncer who got shot by a street gang member.”
“I’m not trying
to …”
“It’s okay, I’m
really not mad. Hell, you did me a solid helping me sneak outta the
hospital. Odds are the media’s having a field day right now trying
to get quotes from hospital officials about how they let a patient
in their care slip away unnoticed.”
Cathy’s dimples
accompanied a wry smile. “I have gotten a few texts from the boss
about that now that you mention it.”
I smiled
ruefully. “Today’s media. Finding a story out of nothing.”
Cathy shrugged.
“Sometimes yes, but not in this case.”
“Yes, in
this case,” I laughed softly. “As soon as hovkey season ends
there’s suddenly room in the news for human interest pieces.” I
cued up my Radio Announcer Voice. “City officials going to raise
school taxes. Does Googling yourself mean that you’re egotistical?
Legal aged girls who can make their own decisions in life go
missing without a word. Police vow to crackdown on street gang
violence after dipshit bouncer tries to eat bullets as a party
trick. All this and more at eleven o’clock, right after Seinfeld .”
Cathy scoffed
at me. Really, she did. Just like an old Jewish rabbi.
Or I suppose,
like Seinfeld.
“Joe, you can’t
just sit there and shrug this away. Your story is a big deal.”
My arms moved
outwards of their own volition, palms up to the sky as I stared
back at her. “Why? Why is everyone interested in me? I can’t be the
first mid-thirties failure at life who got shot while working a
menial job, can I?”
“Joe …”
“For real,
Cathy!” I slapped my palms down on the table, louder than I’d
intended but my blood was up. It was just too much for me. I was
frustrated and embarrassed about this entire ordeal and now here in
front of me was a beautiful reminder of everything I’d wanted in my
life before it all went to shit. Yeah, that makes me sounds
pitiful. I know it. But dammit that’s how it felt and I was
determined to avoid letting everyone in town hear about my sob
story and pity me.
I may have been
dealt a shit hand, but many people had it worse. And I wasn’t going
to humiliate myself or my mother any more than I already had with
this bullshit.
So I brought my
hands down to the table. Slapping my palms loudly off the old,
polished wood. A small thrill started in the back of my head,
similar to an adrenaline spike. Like one I would feel staring down
a troublemaker in the club. The feeling raced down my neck and
along my arms, raising gooseflesh the whole way.
The
sugary goodness. Definitely hospital disapproved.
Cathy put down
her pen and pushed the notepad aside, leaning forward on her elbows
again. Reporter mode off, intimate conversation mode engaged.
“It is good to see you,
Joe. I’m sorry it’s been so long.”
“Life. It
happens.” I shrugged again and shoveled in more cake. Heaven.
“Don’t be sorry.”
“We all
wondered what happened to you. One day you were there in Kaye’s
advertising class. The next …”
Delicious cake
suddenly tasted like ashes in my mouth. The jukebox speakers hissed
again while the lights overhead flickered, like a power surge had
just swept through the strip mall.
I tried for
lighthearted.
“Yeah well …
Some of us couldn’t wait til’ graduation for our careers to
start.”
Cathy’s face
turned sympathetic. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“I really
don’t.” Pushed the cake plate aside, suddenly full. “In fact I
don’t want to talk at all.”
“Why not?”
I sighed.
“ ‘ Cause
there’s nothing to say, Cathy.” My knuckles cracked as I locked my
fingers together, leaning forward on the table as well. “I get why
you’re here. It’s good to see you. So good that I don’t even mind
you using our college friendship to try and score an exclusive with
the idiot bouncer who got shot by a street gang member.”
“I’m not trying
to …”
“It’s okay, I’m
really not mad. Hell, you did me a solid helping me sneak outta the
hospital. Odds are the media’s having a field day right now trying
to get quotes from hospital officials about how they let a patient
in their care slip away unnoticed.”
Cathy’s dimples
accompanied a wry smile. “I have gotten a few texts from the boss
about that now that you mention it.”
I smiled
ruefully. “Today’s media. Finding a story out of nothing.”
Cathy shrugged.
“Sometimes yes, but not in this case.”
“Yes, in
this case,” I laughed softly. “As soon as hovkey season ends
there’s suddenly room in the news for human interest pieces.” I
cued up my Radio Announcer Voice. “City officials going to raise
school taxes. Does Googling yourself mean that you’re egotistical?
Legal aged girls who can make their own decisions in life go
missing without a word. Police vow to crackdown on street gang
violence after dipshit bouncer tries to eat bullets as a party
trick. All this and more at eleven o’clock, right after Seinfeld .”
Cathy scoffed
at me. Really, she did. Just like an old Jewish rabbi.
Or I suppose,
like Seinfeld.
“Joe, you can’t
just sit there and shrug this away. Your story is a big deal.”
My arms moved
outwards of their own volition, palms up to the sky as I stared
back at her. “Why? Why is everyone interested in me? I can’t be the
first mid-thirties failure at life who got shot while working a
menial job, can I?”
“Joe …”
“For real,
Cathy!” I slapped my palms down on the table, louder than I’d
intended but my blood was up. It was just too much for me. I was
frustrated and embarrassed about this entire ordeal and now here in
front of me was a beautiful reminder of everything I’d wanted in my
life before it all went to shit. Yeah, that makes me sounds
pitiful. I know it. But dammit that’s how it felt and I was
determined to avoid letting everyone in town hear about my sob
story and pity me.
I may have been
dealt a shit hand, but many people had it worse. And I wasn’t going
to humiliate myself or my mother any more than I already had with
this bullshit.
So I brought my
hands down to the table. Slapping my palms loudly off the old,
polished wood. A small thrill started in the back of my head,
similar to an adrenaline spike. Like one I would feel staring down
a troublemaker in the club. The feeling raced down my neck and
along my arms, raising gooseflesh the whole way.
The
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