Thursday, October 1, 2020

Customer is always right... even when they're very, very wrong.

 Customer:  We're so sorry to see you go.  I was sorry when you left SoHo.


Me:  We were never in SoHo.


Customer:  Yes you were, you had a store in SoHo.


Me:  No... this is our only location.


Customer:  I could have sworn there was a store with the same name in SoHo.


Me:  There is a store called 'Otte' which many people confuse us with, but we're not affiliated.


Customer, looking at me dubiously:  Are you sure?


Me:  No, ma'am, I'm lying to you for my own amusement.


Customer: ...

Saturday, August 22, 2020

Conversations With My Brain


Me:

Time for bed!

 

Brain:

Awake?

 

No, I'm going to sleep now.

 

Awake now?

 

Uh, no... again, it's time for sleep now.

Sleep.

 

Awake with many thoughts?

 

No!  No thoughts!  Sleep!

 

Remember in great detail that 

embarrassing thing you did 8 years ago?

 

...

Don't

 

Obsessively play the memory over and over

trying new scenarios to see if there could have 

been a different outcome?

 

Please

 

Story idea?

 

Im so tired

 

Funny dialogue you'll never remember when you 

wake up tomorrow?

 

why

 

Think about that horror short you watched on youtube?

 

oh god no

 

Convince yourself someone is watching you from your closet?

 

that's not...

there couldn't be...

 

Turn on all the lights and scroll through twitter 

until you forget about closet monster?

 

...

...

...

ok

Thursday, August 6, 2020

The 5 Stages of Internet Loss

1) Denial

    It's not really out-out.  Just wait a few minutes, it'll come back on. 
    
    Maybe try unplugging it and plugging it back in.
    
    You didn't wait long enough before plugging it back in, you're supposed to wait 30 seconds, try it one more time.
   
    *3 Hours Later*
   
    Aaaany minute now...


2) Anger

    *Hurls computer across the room*

    AAAAAAAAAARRRGHHHHHHH!!!!!   
    
    ARE YOU F*%$ING KIDDING ME??! 

    THAT'S IT!!!
    
    *Steam curls out of nostrils like a cartoon bull*

     I AM CALLING CUSTOMER SERVICE AND GIVING THEM A PIECE OF MY MIND!!


3) Bargaining

    *Upon finally reaching a human at customer service*
   
    Please....
   
    Please kind sir/madam, I promise not to yell... just please let me have my internet back. 
    
    I'll do anything - I mean, I do already pay for it... - but I can do more!  Whatever you want! 
   
    Just... just give me a taste, just enough to get me through the next hour, I'm begging you...


Customer service representative: Uh, ma'am?  That's uh, that's not how this works.  That's not how any of this works.  Ma'am?  Ma'am, please stop crying...


4) Depression

    Time ticks by in this hollow place...
   
    I am adrift without direction, without purpose...
   
    How much time has passed?  Hours?  Days?  Years?
   
    Shall I ever know joy again?
   
    Did I ever know it before?
   
    I shall lay here quietly, and perhaps, someday, I will find it again.


5) Acceptance

    Internet who?
   
    Nah, I'm into beekeeping now.  Got my artisanal honey business to think about.
   
    Also, I made a cabinet.  No biggie.
   
    And I've taken up yodeling.  Neighbors are thrilled.
   
    And you know what?  I really don't miss it.  I don't spend hours reading the news or scrolling through social media, and I feel better for it.  Happier.  Lighter.  I feel like I could actually DO something for a change!  You know, I think this- 

    Oh, it's back on.
   
    Well, that's OK, it's there if I need it, but really I'm just going to continue with all that other stuff, no need to jump on right away.
   
    Lemme just... I'll just check Twitter real quick, just to see what I missed.  Just a quick look... and.... and then I'll...

Monday, July 27, 2020

Re: Silence

Wrote this a while back, finally decided to post it.  I think it's amusing on it's own, but I was considering making it a series where the Brain replies, and they go back and forth with ever increasing passive aggressive politeness.  We'll see if I feel motivated.








Dear Brain,

 

            First, let me say that I really appreciate much of the work you are doing.  The way you regulate my heartbeat, and continue to push air in and out of my lungs without my having to think about it consciously is really top notch.  The Memory Department could maybe be a bit more careful with where and how they store important files, and the shortage of serotonin has not gone unnoticed, but overall I would say I am satisfied with performance across the board.

            With that being said, I would like to bring the issue of the hours between 2AM and 6AM to your attention.  For some reason these hours are being used as a time for departments to air grievances, give status reports, and generally just be as loud as possible.  As I’m sure you are aware, these hours have already been blocked off for use by the Sleep Department, and with everyone else clamoring for my attention, it is making it rather difficult for the Sleep Department to get anything done.

            I would appreciate it if you could remind your staff that those hours require strict silence, and, in particular, ask the Creativity and Motivation departments to remember that they do not need to whisper story ideas (including, but not limited to: dialogue, plot, and character development) at me until I am forced to write them down.

            Also, please tell the Regrets and Embarrassments Department that they have been allotted the hours between 12AM and 2AM in which they may replay as many instances of Here’s What I Should Have Said and Oh God, They Must Think I’m An Idiot.  Far too often, they have been running over, and I would like you to remind them that they are not permitted to apply for overtime.  If they are unable to accomplish their work in the time provided, I am going to have to seriously consider doing away with the department entirely.

            Thank you in advance for your prompt attention to these pressing issues.  The Sleep Department and I are looking forward to building a more harmonious work environment in the future.

 

Sincerely,

Julia

Monday, May 11, 2020

The Pinky Swear

Based off this writing prompt:



          As a kid, you told one of the people in your class that you’d owe them one favor, for ANYTHING, if they traded you their tater tots for your carrots. They agreed, and you sealed it with a pinky swear.  You completely forgot about that kid until now, twenty years later, where they’ve called in that favor. You can’t say no. You PINKY swore on it.



 The Pinky Swear

          In middle school, pinky swears were sacred.

          It all started when Jay broke his pinky swear to Eric and the next day his bike hit a rock, sending him tumbling over his handlebars to break his arm.

          Aconite Turnblatt, wearing a smugly superior expression and adopting an air of mystery, told everyone it was karma; a word she had learned from her new-age, hippie parents.

          After that, no one dared enter into a pinky swear unless they intended to keep it.

          It became a way to determine your true friends: if they wouldn’t pinky swear with you, did you even know who they were?

          Tribes were formed.  Friendships forged and broken.

          Alan Caruso became a sort of bookkeeper, recording all the pinky swears in a Nike trapper keeper that said “Just Do It” across the front.  He would reign over the central table in the lunch hall, the seats beside him left empty, keeper open and waiting, as kids approached to account for their latest swears.

          And when the swears became more ridiculous, more difficult to keep, it was Alan who came up with a penalty system.

          If you broke a swear, and didn’t want to face the universe’s consequences, you could pay it off.  At first, this meant the offended party getting a free shot at the swear breaker. But when too many kids started showing up at the nurse’s office with bloody noses and bruises they refused to explain, the system was forced to change, lest the grown-ups cotton on and put a stop to it.  

          The new system involved a simple fine (the amount determined by Alan, who was really starting to enjoy the sway he held over these proceedings, and could usually be bribed into less or more damaging penalties, depending on who had greased his palm sufficiently) but, given that no one really had much money to speak of, more often it involved some kind of trade.  Janice broke a swear to Eileen?  Eileen gets to keep Janice’s Hello Kitty pencil case.  

          Inevitably, certain kids started manipulating the system to get what they wanted; forcing more vulnerable kids to enter into pinky swears they couldn’t help but break.

          It all came to a head when Rocko demanded that Jordan hand over his Game Boy.  Alan, sporting a new pair of Nike sneakers which were identical to the ones Rocko had been showing off just that morning, agreed that this was a fair penalty. Reluctantly, Jordan gave up his Game Boy before running to tell his tearful tale of loss to a teacher, who took it to the principal, and well… that was the end of that.  Kinda.

          Pinky swears were banned, Alan’s trapper keeper was confiscated, and Rocko gave back Jordan’s Game Boy.

          But all this really did was send the pinky swears underground.  Alan set up behind the gym instead of the lunch room, and continued passing judgement. He even got himself a secretary in little Marshall Goodly, who recorded the swears in his cramped but precise hand.

          It wasn’t until Jordan died that they stopped for good.

          The grown-ups called it a tragic accident, but the kids knew better: it was karma.  Jordan had broken his pinky swear and hadn’t paid the price demanded of him. So, instead, karma had extracted its own price.

          After that, no one ever made another pinky swear again.

          Each time a new class came into the school, the older kids would pass down the story.  The legend of the Pinky Swear grew in the telling, eventually morphing into a tale of Jordan the ghost child who would haunt you to death if you dared enter into Pinky Swear with someone.  Kids claimed to see Jordan lurking in the hallways of the school, or popping up in the mirror of the boys bathroom nearest the lunchroom, just waiting for someone to slip up.

          As they got older, the original Pinky Swear kids began to forget.  If they thought about it at all, they told themselves that the accident had really just been an accident.  That Jordan had broken a pinky swear was just coincidence.  It was tragic, sure, but nothing more.

          But stuff like that stays with you, even through the rationality of adulthood.

          So when Ronnie Mallard showed up on my doorstep and demanded the favor I owed her, I wasn’t about to say ‘no’.




            “Ronnie?” I said bewildered, staring at the now-grown woman I hadn’t seen in more than 20 years.  Ronnie had moved away before high school, but we had been best friends up until then.  We’d tried to keep in touch somewhat, but, as happens when you no longer see each other every day, eventually grew apart.  Of all the people I expected to find on my doorstep, Ronnie wouldn’t have even cracked the top ten.

           “Hey, Fi,” said Ronnie.  She looked stressed, her hair thrown into a messy bun and dark circles under her eyes. But she grinned at me with an old familiarity, and there was warmth in the way she used my nickname.  “It’s been an age, huh?”

           “Yeah,” I said with a laugh, “yeah it has.  You wanna come in?”  Ronnie shook her head.

           “Nah, can’t.  Thanks.”

           We stood awkwardly on my front porch, Ronnie shuffling her feet and looking around.

           “Nice place you got,” she said.

           I felt this was pretty generous on her part.  The house had been my grandparents’, and wasn’t in the best of shape. But it was mine, and suited my simple, mundane life.

           “Thanks,” I said, glancing at the peeling paint beside the door.  “You sure you don’t want to come in?”

           “Do you remember that pinky swear we made in middle school?” she asked abruptly.

           I froze.  I hadn’t thought about Pinky Swears in years, but as soon as she said it, the memory came flooding in, like it had been lurking at the back of my mind, just waiting for its chance to be recognized once more.



              It was lunchtime, and I opened my brown paper sack to discover that my mother, who was on one of her health kicks had packed carrots with my pb&j.  Mom was always on some crash diet or other.  Skinny as a rail, she still thought she needed to lose weight.  And if mom was on a diet, that meant the whole family had to be also because she “just needed some goddamn support, if that wasn’t too much to ask.”

           I hated carrots, especially the slimy baby carrots mom was always trying to force on me.  I looked around at my circle of friends and proposed a trade.  Almost anything would be better than the carrots.

           Ronnie, who had gotten the school lunch that day, looked down at her tray and offered her tater tots.

           “Done!” I said happily, already reaching to scoop them up.  Ronnie stopped me.

           “You’ll owe me,” she said.

           “Of course,” I said, without thought, “anything!”

           “Pinky swear,” Ronnie said.  This was near the height of the pinky swear phenomenon, before things got too crazy, but significant enough to warrant a little caution.

           “Sure,” I shrugged, like it was no big deal.  “What do you want?”

           Ronnie thought about it.

           “I don’t know yet,” she said.  “Just… a favor.  When I ask, you can’t say ‘no’.”

           That made me pause.  An open-ended pinky swear could be dangerous, and wasn’t to be entered into lightly. But Ronnie was my best friend. What could she ever ask that I wouldn’t give her anyway?

           “Done.”

           We linked pinkies and shook.  I took Ronnie’s tater tots while she got up to tell Alan, who recorded our pinky swear in his ledger.




             I laughed a bit uneasily now, and nudged the corner of the welcome mat with my toe.

           “I remember,” I said.  “That was crazy back then, wasn’t it?  Seemed perfectly normal at the time but kids… kids are weird I guess.  Is that why you’re here?” I asked, looking up at last.

           “Yeah,” she said, “I’m gonna need that favor you owe me.”

           I tried to laugh again, but her face was dead serious, so I turned the laugh into a cough and let it die.

           “Well…” I began, uncertain.  I took in her tired eyes once more, the lines of stress in her face.  Ronnie was in trouble and she needed a favor.  So what if we hadn’t seen each other in 20 years? There were some bonds that just never let go.  I decided right then, whatever it was, I was going to help her.  “Okay,” I said.  “Whatever you need.”

           Ronnie studied my face a moment, then nodded once.

           “Good.  Come.  I need to show you something.”  She turned and walked down the two steps off my porch toward the driveway where her car was parked.  I followed somewhat hesitantly.

           The house was the very last on the block, surrounded on three sides by nothing but forest.  The road ended at my driveway, and the house next to me had been empty for the last 2 years. Sometimes the isolation bothered me, most of the time I liked it.  Today, it felt slightly creepy.  Even the forest, which was never quiet, seemed too still, like it was waiting.

           Ronnie was standing by the trunk of her car.  When I joined her, she held out her keys.

           “Open it,” she said.

           I smiled uncertainly.  This was going to be some elaborate joke, right?  Ronnie had always been a prankster, a class clown.  But she never went too far.  Her pranks were never harmful or made someone the butt of the joke.  It’s why people had loved her in school.  It’s why I had loved her.

           I grinned with more confidence and took the keys, fitting the one Ronnie had singled out for me into the lock and swung open the trunk with gleeful expectation.

           I stared down at the open trunk and blinked.  The grin froze on my face.

           “Ronnie,” I said calmly.  “There’s a body in your trunk.”

           “Yeah,” Ronnie said.

           “A dead body,” I clarified, determined to put all the facts on the table.

           “Yeah,” she said again, this time with a little sigh of resignation.

           I studied her profile as she calmly contemplated the body.  After a moment, Ronnie turned and locked eyes with me.  We held each other’s gaze evenly for several heartbeats.

           “We’re gonna need a shovel.”

Sunday, October 8, 2017

Hank



So, I wrote a thing.  It's the first part of a SHORT story.  (Please great Muse of Stories, LET IT BE SHORT.  I don't think I could handle anything else right now.)

But, seriously, I think it's a short story, and I already know how it ends, so... yeah.  It ought to be pretty short.

I hope I'll finish it.  I really like it, but that doesn't always mean anything.

Still, the fact that it positively vomited itself out of my fingertips after a near sleepless night is (believe it or not) a good sign!

I've felt creatively constipated since election night last November.  Everything has felt a bit "What's the point?" since then, so I'll take any inspiration or creative burst I can get.

This was that.  I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it.

As always, criticism and encouragement are greatly appreciated.

Lots of love,
Jules
PS- Ugh, the format is all messed up again, and I just don't have the patience to fix it, so y'all are just going to have to deal.  Sorry.

*********************************************************************

 
          It was the sort of shop one would wander into entirely by accident after having taken a turn down the wrong street.  The sort that having found it once, one would never be able to find it again, despite having taken careful note of the address.

          When she entered, the clerk at the back (a dark-skinned young woman with shaved head, nose ring, and combat-boot-clad feet propped up on the counter) said "You break it, you bought it" without looking up from her book.

The place was so narrow and so overstuffed with items - all of which appeared breakable - that she felt she needed to turn sideways and breathe shallowly while she looked.  There appeared to be no system of organization in place, with each item seemingly plunked down on the nearest empty shelf at random.  Books were scattered throughout, including teetering piles of them on the floor which she stepped around with great caution.  Many of them had rather lurid covers with strange depictions as something out of a dream, while others were so worn she could barely make out the titles.

The book the clerk was reading showed 6 monkeys dressed in Renaissance clothing, sitting in a summoning circle around a giant banana which had been peeled halfway to reveal a nearly naked woman with an enormous headdress emerging from it.  Even stranger, it was entitled "Jenny Goes to the Prom".

Everything in the shop was interesting, which made it difficult for her to focus on any one item at a time.  She would just be contemplating a Ganesh statue that appeared to be made of computer chips when a pair of sunglasses with a tag which read "For Eric, from his ancestor Thomas: You're going to need these!" caught her eye.

And so it was that she was drawn from object to object, never able to stop long enough to actually consider buying anything.  The consequence of this was that she found herself wanting everything and nothing all at once.


She wasn't certain how long she'd been there before the clerk sighed heavily and set down her book.

"It's that one," she said pointing, "third shelf up from the bottom."  She picked up her book and resumed reading.

The shelf in question was just as crammed with things as the rest of the shop, and, at first, she didn't know which item the clerk meant.

Then she saw it: a small painting on canvas, no more than 10"X10", of a buffalo.  He had been rendered in a number of soft colors: pinks and blues and golds and greens all mixed so he looked as though his fur had been painted in stripes with some sort of fruity, sugary cereal powder.  The buffalo was in profile but his head was turned so that he could look out at the viewer with one wary, patient eye.

Without thinking, she plucked him from the shelf and brought him to the counter.

"How much is this one, please?" she asked the clerk.

"What's his name?" the clerk asked, without looking up from her book.

"I'm sorry?" she said.

"Ugh," the clerk rolled her eyes and put down her book.  "His. Name."

She looked at the painting of the buffalo in her hands; looked deep into that intelligent eye.

"Um...Henry?" she ventured.  The clerk waved her hand like she was waiting for more.  "Henry...but his friends call him Hank," she said, feeling foolish.  The clerk nodded once and took up her book once more.

"He'll cost you your keychain," the clerk said.

With a mounting feeling that this was all some weird dream from which she would soon awaken (or at least an elaborate prank), she pulled out her keys and looked at the keychain.  It was a small pewter disk with a tree carved into it.  Her sister had given it to her when she moved into her first apartment in NYC.  Sad to give it up, but unwilling to leave Hank behind, she removed the keychain and placed it in the clerk's outstretched hand.

"Have a nice day," said the clerk as the keychain disappeared into her pocket.

When the shop door closed behind her there was a sort of whooshing sound, like something being sucked out into the vacuum of space.  She shook herself a little and looked down at the small plastic bag in her hand.  The buffalo painting was inside it, though she couldn't remember the clerk having put him in a bag for her, as well as a receipt which she was certain hadn't been offered.

The receipt read:
(1) Oil buffalo on canvas, correctly identified as Henry (Hank)
Sold to Ms. Georgette (Gette) Kaspar for:
(1) keychain, used daily, 7 years, gift from Ms. Clementine (Tiny) Kaspar

 
             Gette stared at the receipt, then Hank, then the storefront (which now appeared to be closed).

            "What the fuck was that?" she said to no one in particular.