Wednesday, November 30, 2011

A Two Step Robbery

Some people break down doors. Others open them. I usually open them. However, sometimes I crawl directly through them, break off the handle from the inside, open the door, and return to the room I started in. Confused? Let me explain...

The year was 2011. The month, November. The day, Tuesday. The hour...sometime. Regardless of the ambiguous hour, it seemed a day like any other; but little did we know the awesomeness that lay before us. For years the door to the back warehouse had remained tied open and nothing much was thought of it. However, today it was closed. No matter. People close doors all the time, right? Wrong! Well, people do close doors all the time; but what I was referring to was the subtle implication that everything would be fine when it turned out otherwise - get off my back. Anyway. When attempting to get a case from the warehouse, we found the door; which is passed through literally hundreds of time a day, was, not only locked, but entirely jammed shut. To make matters worse, the handle was spinning freely and all of the bolts to remove the door or handle were on the inside of this heavy, metal, warehouse door...that everyone in the building needed to get through. After nearly an hour of Clay and JT attempting to pick the lock, remove the handle, etc. I offered to try to climb through the tiny window in the door. Clay, my general manager, quickly told me not to try it and went to call a door company. As soon as he left, JT very bluntly asked, "Dude, can you fit through that window?" Everything seemed to move in slow motion as I followed his eerie stare and traced the path of his bony finger to a tiny opening within the door way. There we stared at the smallest window ever built by man...all theatrics aside, it was a freaking stupid small window. Strictly to erase any doubt that I am exaggerating or expanding on it's size, I have included a picture or said door and it's diminutive window. Besides, expanding the size would have made this next situation far easier. Deciding it was worth a shot, we removed the glass and I attempted to go through. Being smaller than my shoulders, I had to stand on a chair and olympic diver position myself to go through pencil straight. Getting my arms and chest through the hole, I was stuck halfway through. At this point, it basically came down to me yelling at JT to push my feet, while I rolled my body diagonally so my hips could fit through the opening. In the process of this nonsensical maneuver, my belt caught the edge of the window. While I was trying to get my belt unstuck, JT, unaware of the hangup was pushing violently on my legs. Suddenly, my belt buckle broke open and my hips pushed through the window; tearing my shirt wide open and forcing me through. As I dropped head-first into the room, my pants caught on the window and were torn off me as I fell. Before I hit the ground, my foot got stuck in the window and I hung there a moment before twisting my ankle free and falling on the cement. Laying on my back, looking straight up; my pants around my ankles and my shirt torn off, JT's head popped through the window and, laughing hysterically said, "Looks like you made it, buddy" followed by the frantic cries of Clay screaming, "He went through the %#^@ window! He went through the *#&! window!" It was pretty much amazing. Even after I'd made it through, the screws were stripped (just like me) so I still had to bend, twist and eventually kick off the door-knob, use a screw driver and wire-cutters to cut a hole through the metal to pull out the dead-bolt and figure out some way of straightening the hinges so it could open again. Needless to say, the door is now safely secured - in an open position...but if it ever closes we've found an instant and rather comical solution. Brilliant.  

As if the night wasn't already amazing enough. Blake and I went through Wendy's in the kangaroo mask and got the most amazing reactions from a group of older women at the RedBox...but that's another story.       

Monday, November 28, 2011

Tazing a Drunken Isaac Newton

Last night marked the most amazing situation I have ever found myself in the middle of.

Caroline had left and Blake and I had just concluded watching the worst cinematic debauchery ever created. Honestly, after sitting through a horrific rendition of Red Riding Hood, I thought my life had ended. Little did I know that it was just beginning (there's a sermon or twelve in there somewhere, I'm sure). It's 3am. I enter my room, turn out the light and lay down. Literally thirty seven seconds later I hear the most profane screams coming from outside. Looking out my window, I see a collection of hammered drunk people, standing outside a taxi, screaming at each other and threatening to murder this other guy if he didn't leave them alone. I know this because they literally said, "I'm going to kill you if you don't leave us alone" several times during their explicit conversation. Logically assuming that someone was going to 1) leave someone else alone or 2) get murdered, I awoke and proceeded to watch the following events transpire:
While the group was screaming at this other, random guy and telling him to get back into the taxi or they would kill him, the cab driver, obviously irritated with the developing story-line, drove away and left the individual the group wanted him to take away. At this time, the guy they wanted to leave said he would kill them all and called one of the girls poor; which instantly resulted in one of the other guys punching him in the face. Knocking him to the ground, the girls started screaming and made everyone move into the apartment and leave the guy out on the pavement. Fortunately, they lived in the apartment directly across from mine! Coming out of my room, I found Blake staring through the peep hole in our door and laughing hysterically. The group had moved inside and the drunk guy they were trying to leave was standing outside the door, screaming frantically and punching the door while they yelled back that they had called the police. We took turns watching him for awhile as he would back up to our door, scream "fighting is what I do for a living!" then run full speed into their door, get knocked to the ground, get up, scream "send out just one man! Fighting is what I'm good at!", boxing dance around, then punch the door two or three times super hard. He did this for about ten minutes before finally just telling him that he thought his phone might be in their apartment and they needed to let him in so he could find it. They didn't believe him, apparently. During all of this commotion, Blake and I had determined that he was extremely funny when irritated, so every time he calmed down we would do something to irritate him again. At one point, he was just kind of standing there with his head against the door, offering to teach them all how to fight if they would let him in. As he kept pushing his fighting abilities, though highly doubtable, and was only 7 or 8 feet away, we weren't too willing to risk the off chance that he was a professional MMA fighter. Therefore, when he was in this vulnerable state, we employed the "two-man-double-tag-team-hit-the-other-guy-and-slam-the-door-before-he-can-react" approach. While he was standing there, Blake whipped open the door, I hurled an apple full speed at the dude, hit him in the back of the head, Blake slammed/locked the door and we both dove for the peephole to witness his reaction while laughing hysterically. The guy had no clue what happened. He was screaming and kicking and yelling that he was going to kill whoever did that. Shortly after, he proceeded to continue beating down their door and our entertainment continued. Another 5 minutes passed and, finally, we decided to talk to the guy. Grabbing another apple and Blake grabbing a wrench, I opened the door, walked out and said the super clever and awesomely funny and original line, "hey man, you've got to be quiet; it's 4am". Which, to our dismay, he very cordially and calmly replied, "I'm sorry man. They hit me in the head and stole my phone and wallet. I had to track them back here and now I'm trying to get it back. I called the cops but they aren't here yet." I don't know how necessary it is to point out that he was lying, but I will; he was lying. Before I could even say anything, two police officers rounded the corner and greeted us. They asked him for his ID and he started telling a random story before turning around, mid-sentence, and taking off at a dead run the other direction. A chase ensued and before we knew it, there were a dozen cop cars around us. It took about ten minutes but, eventually, he was seen sprinting across the street. Apparently the police saw him as well because they tazed him and, amidst bloodcurdling screams, handcuffed him in the street. Ironically enough and much to our delight, when they were walking him back, he tried to run again...leading to another healthy dose of tazing. Beautiful. We all had to fill out witness statements and it turns out that the girl across the hall and her friends had met him at a bar, he jumped in their cab and insisted on coming home with them. Considering I'd seen the situation transpire from the beginning, it all made sense. What was amazing was watching a dozen drunk people all in a state of panic trying to retell the story. Priceless. What was even more amazing was that one of the chicks (fortunately the only attractive one - go figure) was terrified that he was going to break free and kill her...therefore I was comforting her and she was clinging to me tightly - which, as she was drunk out of her freaking mind, lead to her kissing me frantically and telling me how brave I was. The sun was up, I smelled like a woman's spit and alcohol and had just witnessed a live episode of COPS in my front yard. Needless to say, McDonald's was the next stop in this unparalleled adventure. Once our dining had concluded, Blake and I sat on the couch laughing non-stop and re-telling the situation for nearly an hour. Walking down the hall, we both realized that I was still holding an apple...and he had a wrench in his back pocket. The laughing began again and the world was a better place...

True story

Friday, November 18, 2011

Someday I'll Find Something

There are some things we control and others that control us. Then there are things so uncontrollable that the more we attempt to control them, the more out of control they become. That's how I've felt the past month. Like I'm trapped in this revolving room of doors where each open path leads to another random room that leads back to the one I started in. Doors keep opening and I keep moving; but no forward motion occurs. It's like a plaguing nightmare. It disturbs me and leaves me with this eternal longing to run toward something I can't find. It's this sort of weird vacancy searching for fulfillment. I guess I feel that if I go enough places and meet enough people, I'll find the right place and meet the right person. I though I'd found both. Maybe I had but was too frightened to admit the fact that I'd allowed myself to trust again. Who knows. Now I'm caught in this strange paradox of loneliness and distrust where I'm faced with the decision to trust someone enough to not be lonely or avoid loneliness by being with someone I don't trust. It's a flaw I'm repairing. When did I become so cold? I don't want to be dark; It's just all I've known for the past year. I'm thankful for the experience and am stronger for it all, but standing alone, fighting for dreams that no one else believes in gets tiresome from time to time. I'm happy; I'm just exhausted from forcing myself to smile. I want it all to be natural again. It'll turn around. It always does. I'd just rather fight to make things happen for myself so this lingering sense of helplessness frustrates me. I guess it's that control thing again.

I keep waking up from this stupid dream that rips my heart out. Why does it always come back? I think every second together ran through my mind. It was strange. I even got up, made her favorite chicken alfredo and watched Iron Chef in the dark like she used to. It made me want to cry. I wonder if she misses me? I sat awake flipping through photographs thinking awhile. I think it was her eyes that did it. God, those eyes. I felt safe there; like the world was collapsing around me but everything was beautiful. Ironic how things swing full circle. That brought to mind another night in the back of my truck at 2am when I felt that peace again. I should have said something to her. Whatever, I tore off my rearview mirror years ago; but for some reason I keep staring at the reflections in the windshield waiting to turn a corner so I can't pick them up anymore. Keep moving forward and praying that someday I'll find something that makes it all make sense.
A beautiful story with un-beautiful parts...

On a lighter, more awesome note,
I was juggling these corndogs I made and dropped one into an open jar of powered sugar (yeah, you read that right). A flawless discovery. Seriously? Honey-batter corn dogs coated in powered sugar? A delicacy from God himself.