Knock, knock.

Someone was pounding on my door.

The sound jarred me from the deep comforting darkness of sleep..

Jefe: wha the fah? [it being too early for hard consonants]

I groaned. My head hurt...

I blearly focused my eyes until the red haze of my alarm clock coalesced into legible numerals

8:15

Jefe: hmph.. yeah righ..

I rolled over and burrowed.

Unfortunately it seemed that I wouldn't be going back to sleep. The combination of my head and the taste in my mouth were not conducive to the gentle loss of consciousness.

I started to mull over the question of who the hell could want me at such an ungodly hour on a Sunday... At first I had assumed it was my landlord come to tell me he was off on a one of his vacations. Wanting me to bring in the mail and the paper. That's the kind of relationship we have, we pick up each other's mail and try not to bother each other. I reckon that that's about as good as it gets.

But wait. My landlord is like 85 and certainly doesn't pound on the door like the poe-poe...

wtf?

Jefe: Snougrhsa! [sound of me whipping head from pillows while sucking in air] WH!

We had planned to take a day trip to the beach that day…

I jerked out of bed and stumbled towards the door.. I blearily navigated through the obstacle course of crap littering my floor, noticed my cell phone vibrating, and finally wrenched open the door cringing against sunlight and the fresh air…

WH was still there sitting on my porch

… whew…

Jefe: [cognizant he’s standing only in boxers, crazy hair, and scrunched face] Sorry man

WH: [smirk] s’cool….

[The Night before]

Setting: A charming bungalow yards from campus. N & E had invited the crew over for the usual pre-Hell dance party mixer.

The DJs are part of our posse so we usually meet at N & E’s, have a few drinks, and then go to the dance party at the local dive. We drink, we walk, we dance. Recipe for success.

That night the Jefe sauntered in with one of his fav buddies to find the party in full swing. We were naturally greeted by a chorus of cheerful hello’s and how-dees .

As is my custom I immediately walked by the living room towards the kitchen.

Jefe: “What’s to drink?” [I was the feckless fiend who had arrived empty handed. Shame reader, shame]

Cheerful: “I brought SCOTCH!”

Ah.

A note on Cheerful: Cheerful and his partner Rather Reserved are couple of decent fellows to be sure. Well liked by all.

They are however, super light-weights.

Can’t handle their drink.

Should.

Not. Never.

Associate or Attempt to Match the Jefe when the Jefe becomes jovial in his spirits.

Here reader we come to the crux of the problem, the moment where things probably took a turn for the worse. You know, two roads diverged in a yellow wood, and I took the one with lots of rocks and pebbles that make you stumble and weave like a drunken lout etc.

Ah reader, but it is fact that the Jefe loves his Scotch. There is no hiding it.. No denying it. I was so touched that somebody would bring his Scotch for all to enjoy that I immediately poured myself a generous tot and toasted their generous nature.

After a few of those, I deemed it my responsibility to hand down a modicum of stern advice:

A) One should only buy Single Malt Scotch

B) One should only buy Scotch from good Scottish distilleries and not bottles with grinning seamen on the label.

Although it was my duty to impart such knowledge, I of course felt so aggrieved when Cheerful apologized for his selection that I insisted on drinking more to assure him that everything was alright.

Afterwards I felt it ill advised and very unagreeable to sully my palette with any thing other than more Scotch.

Yaddah Yaddah Yaddah in that vein.

I can only say that at least I had the presence of mind to eat a sandwich.

[Back to WH and the next morning]

As I blearly pulled myself together, pulled on my togs, and rounded up my gear, the events of the night began to come back to me.

Jefe: [yelling to the next room grinning] Hey WH, betch you thought your old buddy forgot you huh?

WH: [surveying the damage of my apt] mmmm

Jefe: [still grinning] Check the kitchen.

WH walks in. A cheer of “hells yeah” echoes from that room.

Somehow, someway I managed to fill a cooler with beer and ice after the club and before I went to bed. (that's another story)

Of Course I'd left the nozzle open and water was all over the kitchen floor...

That's why the Jefe rents
El Jefe

This Morning...

I woke up to the sound of an NPR story. My conscious mind started following what was being said, the body slowly waking. This particular story was about the Director's cut of Donnie Darko that has just been released.

Unfortunate.

Donnie Darko is one of my favorite movies ever.

Having said that, sound bites from Donnie Darko are not what you want ushering you down the winding road between REM sleep to full consciousness. Too many opportunities for pit stops. The upsetting kind.

I also had a mouth that tasted of cigars and beer, a grumbling stomach, and a deep-seated fatigue from lack of sleep. I could tell that it was going to be a freaking great day.

But wait... that wasn't all.. Something else was going on here

I had the feeling that something had been done... some step had been taken...

I got the familiar feeling that my old enemy, Jefe of the past, had once again screwed me, Jefe of the future... that @$#@ing bastard.. I could just see him chuckling into his mug about some injustice passed on to that nit, Jefe of the future..

Yeah.. My spidey sense was not happy at all..

I might want to roll-back tape....


--- Late the Night Before ---

Me and Jfizz were headed back from a cigar run..

We'd had a few..

sure.

We were barreling down 54, windows rolled, radio on...

We were a bit frustrated cuz we'd been trying to get a poker game together..

no luck..

[eventually we come to our turn-off and Jefe of the past is hit by genius..]

Jefe: "Fizz... Why you turning here?... RDU's that way... Hell, we can be in Vegas in a few hours.."

JFizz: "hehe... I like it...Strong... "

{ moment of thought }

JFizz: " seriously?"

--- a little while passes ---

We're sitting at the computer messing around online...

Jfizz: "jefe, throw me my wallet"

(tap,tap)

--- a litte more time passes ---

{a finger hovers over the return key}

Jfizz: "jefe... you sure about this"

Jefe: "hell yeah" (I sorta was)

He pauses... finger still raised

Jfizz: "I'm having a doubt"

[click]

We were in, the transaction logged.

Jfizz CEO
and
Jefe DDS
[they let you pick titles]

were headed to Atlantic City....

awesome

----- later that day -----

I walked into the office and wondered how it'd be. I was less and less excited about this trip. There are three people in our department and I didn't relish asking the boss if the two of us could have two days off because we got drunk and bought tickets to Atlantic City. I sensed there would be an awkward moment.

When I got there Jfizz gave me a rather embarrassed look.
Jfizz: "What's up buddy?"

---Long story short..

He got us a refund. I just looked at him

Jfizz: "You okay jefe"
Jefe: "Sure, why"
Jfizz: "I sense tension"
Jefe: "No tension............................... "

Yeah..

I'm going to give him shit about this for quite some time.

I mean he blinked first
El Jefe

My Dude-fu is stronger than yours...

Like many modern stories, it all started with an email.

The job ad was for a position with what appeared to be a non-profit called Ipas..

It paid pretty well..

"Interesting" I thought speculatively.

"Wonder what they do?"

I browsed to their web page, misusing company property, and read about what they did.

"ah.. " Women's reproductive health issues.

"hah, good, great."

Don't get me wrong. I love the ladies. Love 'em. They deserve anything they need/want. I understand that it can be damned tough to be a gal at times, and from what I can tell a bit complicated as well. I mean I'm not a dick. I have a mother...

Like most guys though, I just rather not be around when such things are discussed. I blush and stare at my shoes. Not much help. That's just the kind of guy I am. A bit old fashioned perhaps. Dad taught me well. We'd bond standing outside store entrances while the girls did whatever, holding the shopping bags. Chatting about the markets, what-have-you. I'm not the guy standing in the delivery room aiming a camcorder as things "happen". I'm the sort who discreetly stands with his back to the doctor, or better yet outside. You know, a Dude.

All of this made me a tad hesitant. However when the better pay scale and the den of fucking inequity where I was working at the time factored in, I was ready to go. It was an IT job for heavens sake. IT is like Switzerland... You know neutral, not necessarily uncaring, but you don't really ask for their opinion either.

Besides the idea of working for a non-prof rather intrigued me. I'm an Economist by training you see. We're not generally allowed or expected to get too carried away or excited by causes. Meddling in natural events isn't something we're big on. Best rely on the usual forces to get things done. You know profit motives etc. But like any dude, the idea of making a difference kinda intrigued me...

So after a successful interview and pay negotiation, I decided to take the job.

I was a bit nervous.

...

That was a year ago. Went by in a flash really. There have definitely been ups and downs..

Last year I accidentally went to the talent show..

But overall its been a larf. The IT job turned out to be a good internship that turned into a good job. I've also met a lot of interesting people. In truth I find I rather enjoy working for the hippies. True believers are more fun to be around than you're usual dead-end-jobbers.

I'm much more informed about the problem as well. As a member of the web team I often find myself reading the literature. As a result I've started picking up facts and statistics about women dying around the world because of poor or non-existent medical availability. After the first few months I joked about it, but I find it less funny as time goes on.

Plus if you're looking for a crowd who like me hate the current administration with a white,hot rage, well.... look no farther.

Yep.. I'm like two shades shy of being an advocate now. I can't tell if that's good or bad, but it is more interesting that working for an insurance company..

I'm also a little less gun-shy around the shop. These days when I see a female pelvic model or the various implements/tools lying on somebody's desk I no longer spasm in panic. I just keep my cool and try to ignore them. The eyes glaze over..

Its like I've attained a new belt in being a Dude.

Good thing too..

Cuz, In this game you've got to keep your head.
El Jefe

Eating old Food... Bad/Irresponsible or Heroic?

A coworker and I were shooting the shit when another cube-mate came walking down the hall clutching several bags of vending treats. Odd I thought. We're talking about someone who bikes something like 5 miles to work each and every day. The sort who I imagine makes informed decisions and read's the sides of cereal boxes.

My Spidey sense told me something was up.

I gave her a look, eye-brow raised.

Fit Coworker: "Free Expired Snacks in the Breakroom"

Aha.

Needless to say me and Jfizz immediately got up and started walking... being the sort of people who drive like 2 miles to work each day, there was no question.

As we were snatching items out of the bowl, the Pack-meister, another wage-slave, warned us that we should check to see just how out of date the food was. We completely ignored her.

Now.

I know what you’re thinking. Ugh, gross, and perhaps even poor bastards, but before you saddle up your high horse consider one thing. Who really is the poor bastard here?

Me and Jfizz?

Or is it you?

You who live within the artificial box that the Food Processors have forced on you. The carefully plotted boundaries of “Guaranteed Freshness”. Calculated with some supposed Formula that they would have you believe incorporates all of the uncertainties in a crazy mixed-up world.

So what if my Big Grab bag of Cheetos Crunchy expired today? Should I believe what's been written in black and white by those that "know about such things"? Am I going to pass up food that has been deemed inedible simply for litigious reasons?

Hell no.

Especially when that shit’s for FREE.

Of Course it was only later when I was eating Cheesy crackers that expired in March that I began to see the wisdom in the Pack-meister’s words.

One should judge risks wisely.
El Jefe