Blackhumouristpress's Blog

January 22, 2010

A day in the life of an American part II

Filed under: Uncategorized — blackhumouristpress @ 8:33 am
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Now keep in mind that our hero in part 1, blended one day into the next without the benefit of any sleep.  He has spent over $15.00 on over priced coffee which included the obligatory drop of coin change into the barista’s clear box next to the register. 

            Trent’s mother has come unexpectedly with his her husband, Trent’s step father who is nearly three years younger than Trent.  His stepfather is a former Marine and a closet homosexual with a drinking problem.  Trent has driven over 100 miles since leaving home half of which were in a Smart Car.  He answered over 30 emails on his Blackberry as well as answered close to ten voice messages.  We find him pulled over on the north side of Chicago in part two.

2:20 pm- Trent has been pulled over by an Officer O’Malley in squad car 1592.  Officer O’Malley is fifty seven years of age, has twenty two percent body fat and a penis that used to get 4.75 inches long when it could become erect.  That was back when his body fat was under fifteen percent, over ten years ago.  Officer O’Malley enjoys watching sports, loves his nine grand children and his time share in Cancun.  He and his wife fall asleep watching Jimmy Kimmel on late night television in their matching recliners most evenings after watching the news.

            “I hate to do this to you but there is a law here in the City of Chicago and normally I wouldn’t give a driver a ticket but I sat behind you for an entire red light and then you made a left hand turn without using your turn signal.  I’m going to give you the choice of what I give you the ticket for…  Personally I would go for the cell phone as it will not go on your record,” said Officer O’Malley.

            Here’s the irony; Trent was on the phone with the Chicago Police Department, trying to get an officer to meet him at an apartment building where a tenant had adopted all the furniture in the foyer, for her own unit.  A water leak from an over flowing tub in the thief’s unit had caused terrific water damage to a unit below. 

            A section 8 tenant with five cats, called to tell Trent that plaster had fallen and hit her while she was asleep in bed.  The tenant had already called an injury attorney that she sees every commercial break on local television.  He was in her corner all along.

            “I’m on the phone with the Chicago Police Department right now!” Cried Trent as he held out the cell phone towards the officer.

            “Okay…  I’ll let you go on that account but I gotta ticket you for the left without a signal.  That was just plain stupid, sir.

2:47 pm- Trent walks into the lobby of the apartment that had been stripped of a table and four chairs.  Two lesbian officers stood annoyed with the janitor of the building whose name was Abulfasal and was born in Bosnia.  Abulfasal changed his name to Bud.  Bud had a wife and four children who lived in the one bedroom basement apartment belonging to the company that Trent worked for.  His wife is an illegal alien and Bud is missing a tooth.  The tooth came out while fixing a small plumbing issue in the building the year before.  He hit himself with a large pipe wrench while trying to loosen a rusted fitting that was leaking.  Bud underestimated his own strength.  He loosened the rusted fitting and took his tooth with it.  With no health insurance, his tooth did not stand a chance.

            Now the lesbian cops both played softball on the same team and were training to run a marathon.  Both of them had short cut hair and very pale white skin and spoke an octave lower than the voice god meant for them to have.  They were annoyed that Trent had left them waiting in the lobby for over ten minutes when they were in the middle of eating lunch when the call came through.

            The tenant opened her door to find Bud, Trent and the two female cops with low voices.  The tenant was trying hard to get off of drugs and find a job but the problem was that she just had a child three months earlier and had another one that was eighteen months old.  Both children were of mixed race or as they called them in the old days; mulatto.  She was thin and pale with greasy blond hair, with huge bags under her eyes and a black front tooth that was affected by heroin.  She was smoking a cigarette and trembling.  The father of the second child had just called her from Cook County Jail and needed to be bailed out.  She had no money and her boyfriend would have to stay until a court hearing and then maybe some extra for breaking the terms of his probation.  The young woman was really nervous about what would happen upon her boyfriend’s return.  Violence of some sort was expected but what was not known was to what extent.  She had some time.  Meanwhile she was at the mercy of Trent.  Trent looked at the sleeping infant in an old car seat and couldn’t ask for the woman to be arrested.  He ordered Bud to move the furniture back to the lobby and bolt it down.  The officers questioned Trent in the hallway.

            “It’s up to you…  We can arrest her, the kids become ward of the state and chances are the judge is going to let her go anyway…  Whaddya wanna do?”

            The tenant with the five cats could hear the conversation as she walked up the stairs with yellow Tweety slippers, holding an ice pack to her head.  Even though she was clunked pretty good on the head by wet plaster, she was absolutely fine.  She was hoping to win the lottery on this one and nothing was going to come out of it.  At that moment though she was full of hope as she climbed the stairs in her yellow slippers, holding the ice pack against her forehead, she interjected.

            “You better know what you’re gonna do, mister.  This is a serious situation…”

            It was a serious situation.  Trent at that moment was the closest he had ever come to quitting life completely.  Nothing suicidal but more like clearing the deck.  What Trent really wanted to do was go back to work and quit.  He wanted to tell everyone at work to go fuck themselves and try to have a nice life.  He then wanted to go home and tell his mother to plan her life better and send the Marine to rehab.  He then wanted to put it to his wife that they sell everything and open a wine bar in the Bahamas or maybe a miniature golf center.  Trent was ready to slow his life down.  After all, every work day was nearly identical to the one he was having and some times he would sleep and often times he was too wired to relax.  Trent wanted to live by the ocean where most every day was as beautiful as the next.  He wanted to drive his car on the left with a wheel on the right and watch cricket matches in the shade on days that he wasn’t selling wine or handing out putters.  All of these thoughts crossed Trent’s mind as he sat in stand still traffic late in the afternoon on Interstate 94 headed north even though the sign says west towards Milwaukee.  While Trent contemplated changing his entire life for the sake of saving it, he listened to the news about tens of thousands of some of the poorest people on the planet, losing their lives in an earthquake in Haiti.  The news was more or less subliminal.  Trent then received a text from his wife.

            “What’s the plan with your family for tonight?  Eating?  Food?  Please advise.”

            Trent really wished that she had not ended the sentence with please advise.  Most people who complained all day long in emails, always ended their emails in please advise.

            7:52 pm- Trent had brought home some deep dish pizza that Chicago was really famous for.  His mother, her husband, his wife and he all made small talk.  The kind of talk that when you try to remember what was discussed the next day it leaves one wondering what exactly was exchanged for hours?  Weather?  The baby?  The past?  It didn’t matter.  While everyone chatted, Trent scooped up their infant daughter who was fussing due to the fact that she was hungry and tired.  He changed her and got a bottle of formula ready.  His eyes grew heavy as he starred down at his infant daughter who was having a hard time keeping her eyes open and focused on him.  After all, he was one of two people she could now pick out of a crowd of strangers if she had to as she drank her milk in his arms.  Trent thought about all the meaningless but necessary bullshit for a moment while looking down at his baby girl and decided he was no better or smarter than the Salmon.  He like most, were just trying to fight their way upstream, against the tide for the benefit of their progeny.  That’s just how it goes.

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