UBER THE CUCKOO'S NEST

 My name is Bill Thomas, and I drive cars for a living.  All over the USA, for busy executives, snowbirds, anyone who wants me to drive their car and deliver it anywhere in the lower 48 in an expedited fashion.  It was a cold morning in Cleveland, Ohio, and the address I had delivered to this morning was not exactly the shining gem of the city.  I was actually a little bit scared, and definitely wary.

Once I drop off a car, I have to get to the next pick up.  Sometimes it will be in the same city or nearby, but more often than not it's another city or another state.  I've gotten very good at finding the best and cheapest modes of transport, whether its plane, train, or rental automobile.  The trick used to be finding a city bus route to get from the drop off point to the transportation center.  Thank goodness Uber was created, it makes my getting around much easier.

I was waiting in the chilly morning hours for my Uber to come and take me to the Cleveland Amtrak station.  There I would catch a train to Chicago, where my next pick up was waiting.  The Uber was taking longer than usual, and almost double the ETA that appeared on the Uber App.

Five minutes later, a rusty old pickup truck pulled up and I saw a very elderly man inside.  He rolled down the passenger window and said  "I'm your ride, get in."

I always introduce myself so I know I have the right driver and the right car.  "I'm Bill."

"I don't care," he said as I climbed in.  He stared at me with a steely gaze and said, "My name is Jocko.  I'm 94 years old and I have a bad case of hemorrhoids.  So now you know."  He stepped on the gas so hard that my head snapped back and bounced off the head rest.

"I didn't know Uber hired drivers over 90."

"They don't.  My old pal Bobby made me a fake ID that says I am 70 years old.  Would you believe me if I told you I was 70?"

I looked at his wrinkled, weathered skin and his toothless grin, then replied, "I'm not good at guessing ages."

"Well, I fooled Uber, and I fooled you too."

"I'm headed to the Amtrak station."

"In what city?"

"Cleveland."

"Cleveland?  There ain't no Amtrak station in Cleveland."

I was perplexed.  I had a train ticket in my pocket from Cleveland to Chicago.  "Can you just take me to the address I entered?"

"OK, hot shot, I'll take you to that address, but you won't find Amtrak there.  And by the way, what are we going to do about all these damn aliens?"

Fearing this would open up a political conversation, I cautiously asked, "You mean illegal immigrants?"

"What?  No!  I mean the aliens from outer space who walk among us.  And fly over us in big white balloons."

"I think that was China."

"No, boy, China is another country but its here on earth.  I'm talking about Unusual Flying Objects from another planet.  You need to be better informed.  By the way, I saw a good movie the other day.  Something about crashing into a cuckoo's nest."

"One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest?"

"That don't sound right.  This was a movie about a big giant Indian man, who could not speak or hear anything.  He just pushed a broom around the mental hospital.  Then one day, he decided to just leave, so he tore a huge water fountain out of the floor, and threw it at the window.  Then he jumped out and ran away.  The end."

"I've seen that movie.  A lot of other stuff happens besides that."

"Oh, I know, I know.  I loved that little shrimp guy who wants always betting quarters and silver dollars."

"He bet a dime, then he bet a nickel."

"Yep, he was a funny little guy, that Screwdriver."

"His name, was Martini."

"No, that don't sound right.  Where did they find that little dwarf who played Screwdriver, he was hilarious."

"He's not a dwarf, he's just short.  His name is Danny DeVito."

"And after that movie, he was never heard from again."

I decided it would be foolhardy to debate this.  "How far are we from my destination."

"Dammit, I told you there's no Amtrak station in Cleveland.  And I -- wait, did you see that?"

"See what?" I asked.

"It was here, then it was gone."

"What was?"

"Mind your own business, that's what.  Do you ever think about suicide?"

What a crazy segue.  "No, not really."

"I do.  A lot.  I mean I don't want to live to be 100, am I right?"

"Well, as long as you're happy."

"But that's just it.  I'm never happy, not ever.  Sometimes when I'm driving on one of those big high overpasses, I'm tempted to crash through the guard rail and sail to my death."

 Now I was officially alarmed.  "Listen Jocko --"

He got very agitated.  "Who said you could call me that?  Don't you ever use my name without permission.  You got that?"

"Yes sir."

"I think you flew out of that cuckoo's nest."

"I just want a quiet, peaceful ride sir."

Jocko slammed on the brakes, and we were nearly rear ended.  "Get out."

"Beg your pardon?"

He was growling.  "I said get out, and I mean now!  You are making me uncomfortable, and I don't want you in my truck anymore.  And neither does my dead wife Naomi.  She would not have liked you one bit.  Now get out, before I call the police and report you."

I climbed out of the car and he took off, his tires kicking up gravel that sprayed me.  I've taken a lot of Uber rides with a lot of different drivers, but none like this one.  I ordered another Uber, and it came quickly and took me to my address.  And to my delight, there was an Amtrak station there.  I am sure if Jocko had finished my ride he would have been furious to find there was a station here when he was so certain there was not.  Riding with Jocko, I felt I had been Uber the cuckoo's nest.

 

STAR WARS SALLY

"You don't want an answer to that question," growled my boss Riff. 

"Yes I really do." 

"The customer complaints about you are piling up. You are such an idiot I don't know how you even comb your hair in the morning." 

"My hair?" 

"Yes your hair, that covers your empty head."

"I'm pulling off in Tallahassee now, speak to you later." 

"I'm not done yet!" he shouted as I was hanging up my phone.

I had driven this car from Dallas, and it was due just outside of Tallahassee the next morning. By chance, my old buddy John Hazzard was on business in town, and asked me to pick him up downtown. I was due to arrive there at 2pm, and still had ten minutes to spare. I pulled up to the curb near the old Florida movie theater downtown. Which is no longer open for business. There was John, easy to spot in his usual dapper dress code and carrying a briefcase. "Bill old boy, how in the hell are you? You're looking well." 

"Feeling great. What brings you to Tallahassee?" 

"Business. And a transactional possibilty for you." 

"What kind of proposition?" I asked warily. 

"I had lunch with my wealthiest client Miss Saloman today, and she was asking about you." 

"Her? Again? What is this obssession she has with me?" 

"She thinks you are adorable, and said she can't wait to get you into a Star Wars stormtrooper uniform." 

I shook my head. "She wants what?" 

"Miss Saloman is deep into cosplay, where a group of people dress like they live in the Star Wars universe. She wants you in the assless stormtrooper outfit." 

"Assless?" 

 "Yes, like assless chaps, your bare bottom is exposed for all to see." 

"But why?" 

John laughed. "The better to paddle your bare bottom." 

I was shocked. "Come on, you have to be kidding me." 

"She said she really wants to Yoda you good." 

"She wants to Yoda me?" 

"You know Bill, you don't have to repeat everything I say." 

I felt light headed. "I just want to be sure I'm understanding you correctly." 

"The proposition is for you to move in to a little cottage she has in the backyard. And she will take care of all your needs, and in turn you will do whatever she asks anytime." 

"You have got to be joshing me." 

"Nope, she is dead serious. In fact, she is already working to persuade you to move in." 

My eyes turned into suspicious slits. "Persuade me how?" 

"She said she has been using a Jedi mind trick on you every day in an attempt to make you move in, whether you want to or not." 

"Tell her I'm not interested."

John rubbed his hands together with eager anticipation. "She's not just going away. She is very determined. She says she has more sex toys than Luke Skywalker. And more devious plans for you than that evil Emperor ever dreamed of." 

"Okay, that's enough." 

"She said she wants to Chewbacca you real good. She want to give you a Force push." 

"Stop! Please!" 

"Why the hesitation, Bill? You've always been the biggest Star Wars fan I've ever known. So you have a base foundation for a relationship." 

"Relationship? Oh no, no, no." 

"You'd be a kept man." 

"I don't want to be kept, not by anyone. But if you think we have some kind of Star Wars connection, you are sorely mistaken. In fact it sounds like she is talking about a completely different universe that the Star Wars galaxy.. She is bastardizing everything I love about those movies." 

"I thought you were open minded." 

"This isn't Star Wars, its sex games in outer space. I'm not interested, nor will I ever be interested in this unsavory proposition. You can tell that to Sally for me if she brings it up again." 

"Sally?" 

"It's what I call Miss Saloman. Silly Sally." 

John chuckled. "Silly Sally?"  

"Yes, but I am officially changing it to Star Wars Sally." 

John shook his head aggressively. "Oh no, she will not like that nickname." 

I started squirming restlessly in my seat. "That's the whole point, I don't care that she won't like it. I don't care, I just don't care." 

John pointed ahead of us and said, "Pull into the next shopping center, there's a bar there and I think we need a drink." 

I pulled in and parked. "John, I appreciate you bringing the opportunity to my attention. But I am definitely not interested. You seriously think I should even give this consideration?" 

"Yes." 

"To live in her backyard and acting as her Cabana boy." 

"Yes sir." 

"And be at her beckon call?" 

"Why not?" 

"And cry on the inside while she tries to turn my beloved Star Wars into some type of sordid porno game thing?" 

"Whatever gets you through the night." John opened his door and began to climb out. 

"So this is no joke and there's an actual offer on the table." 

"The offer is dead serious, no joke." 

"And your best advice as my friend is that I give in to her wishes and become her play toy? You've got to be pulling my leg." 

John peered over the roof of my car at me. "Right out of the socket."

BROADWAY REOPENS

After the pandemic shut down so many places we all love to go, it was heartening to see that Broadway is back open for business.  And it took me back to my adventure seeing my first Broadway show.

Mel Brooks' THE PRODUCERS is one of my all time favorite movies.  When I heard they were making it into a musical, my heart sank, for I felt that they would spoil the magic of the original movie.  Then in 2003, my friend Justin bought me the CD of the Broadway soundtrack, and I found myself driving cars around the country singing along gleefully.  By this time Nathan Lane and Matthew Broderick had left the show, but I doubted I'd ever get the chance to see it live.

Then I drove an ambulance to New York City one early April day in 2004, and was supposed to pick up a limosine to drive back to Atlanta.  But when I arrived in NYC, I called and was told the limo wouldn't be ready to go until 11pm that night.  I had just read that Lane and Broderick had returned for a limited 3 month run in the show, and that run would be ending in a few days.  So I decided to try to go see it, and made my way up to the St. James theatre on 44th St.

I arrived to find a long line down the street and around the corner.  It was a Saturday, and I assumed they were waiting to get in to be seated for the matinee show.  As I walked down the line to find out where it ended, a dirty, smelly little man jumped into my path.  "Tickets here.  You want to see the show?"

"Are you selling them?" I asked.

"If you got cash I am."

"Are they good seats?"

"Are they good seats, he asks.  Back row balcony, only the best.  $500."

"That's a little steep for me.  Maybe I'll get on the cancellation list, for after this line of people goes in."

The little man laughed at me.  "Buddy, this line is for people waiting for any possible cancellations for this show.  Are you ignorant or pathetic or both?  You must be from the South."  He stormed off as if he was disgusted with me.  I looked at my watch, and it was one hour until showtime.  Damn!

As I walked back towards the entrance of the theatre, I heard a voice call out loudly "Bill!"  I knew that they couldn't be calling me, because I don't know a soul in Manhattan.  "Bill!  Bill Thomas, is that you?"

I turned around and was stunned.  "Kim?  Kim Mayer?"

"Hi Bill."  She gave me a big bear hug.  I hadn't seen her since college, where we were very close friends.  I had still been sending her a Christmas card to her parents' house each year.  

"I appreciated all the Christmas cards, you never forget me.  And you write the sweetest things.  You were always a good friend.  So what are you doing in my neighborhood?"

"Trying to see a Broadway show."

"Not this one, I hope."

"Why, isn't it any good?  Have you seen it?"

"Oh it's great, that's the problem.  Everyone wants to see it.  But yes I've seen it many times.  I'm the assistant manager here at the St. James."

"Since when?"

"Since five years ago.  But what are you doing now?  My guess was always that you'd be a famous writer by now."

"I drive cars around the USA for busy executives who don't have time to. But I do still write.  The last screenplay I wrote was inspired by this musical."

A voice called out her name.  "I have to run inside, can you wait here a few?"

"I have nowhere to be."  She ran into the lobby of the theatre, and I was once again enchanted by this lovely African American woman that I had a crush on all through college.  She only saw me as a brother, and I had to watch as she had many misbegotten trysts with other guys who only hurt her.  I was the one she came to when she needed a shoulder to cry on.

Ten minutes later, she was back.  "Hate to say it, but you picked a bad time to come.  Nathan and Matthew are back for a limited engagement, and this is their last week."

"So I heard."

"Everyone wants to see them, and I can't blame them.  These two guys have a magical chemistry."

"Well, I figured if I was going to see my first Broadway show, it should be this."

"Wait a sec, are you telling me you've never seen a show on Broadway before?  Ever?"

"Never.  To tell you the truth, I was reluctant about this musical because I'm so in love with the original movie version.  But a friend gave me the Broadway CD, and I've been listening to it over and over for months while I drive."

"Catchy songs, huh?  Listen, I'm about to get real busy until the matinee starts.  Can you hang out until then, we can talk more freely."

"Will you keep me in mind if a ticket comes available?"

"Baby, I don't want to burst your bubble, but this show is sold out, and I'm about to have to tell that line of over 100 folks that they are out of luck."

"OK, I'll just wait here for you."  I walked up and down the block, looking at the Majestic theatre where THE MUSIC MAN originally appeared in 1957.  And Sardis, a famous restaurant that celebrities frequent.  

Just under an hour later, the line had disappeared and Kim walked back out to see me.  "So what do you think of Broadway so far?"

"Exciting.  Vibrant.  And since I'm here anyway, I should get tickets for another show.  Any good suggestions?"

Kim crooked her finger and wiggled it for me to follow her.  "Come with me."  She led me into the lobby where I saw an elderly lady sitting in the box office.  "Ruth, this is one of my oldest friends, Bill Thomas.  Do we have anything for him at tonight's show?"

"One seat, front row mezzanine.  You want it?"

"Do I -- of course I want it!  How much?"

"Nope, you are my guest tonight," Kim said with finality.

Ruth handed me the ticket and said, "These go for 100 bucks and are very hard to come by."

"I am extremely grateful to you, Ruth.  And to you, dear sweet Kim."

"Cut the corny crap and thank me by bringing me back a sandwich and a brownie.  Now go see the city, but be back by 7:30, the show starts at 8pm sharp."

"I will, I'll be here."  I spent the day seeing New York for the first time, visiting landmarks and museums and finding my way around.  I had been in the city once before, but it was to visit a friend at the World Trade Center the day before 9-11.  There was no time on that trip for any leisure, it was all business.  And then my friend perished in the towers the very next day.

I arrived back to the St. James at 7:20, and found Kim easily.  I gave her a bag with a sandwich made on a croissant, two brownies, a sweet bun, and some doughnut holes.  She squealed with delight, because apparently the place I chose to purchase the food from was one of her favorite spots.  "Are you ready for a real experience?"

"I feel like the King of old Broadway," I answered, quoting a line from one the show's songs.  Kim passed me off to Judy, the head Usher, who took me upstairs to my seat.  Judy kept on glancing at me oddly, as if she recognized me.  

"You could be up on the stage tonight.  You look a lot like Max Bialystock."  I was flattered beyond belief.

"I know all the songs by heart," I proudly told her.  "I will have trouble resisting singing along during the show."

Judy's face grew suddenly solemn.  "Don't do that.  Please don't do that."  I could see she took me seriously.

I gave her my best humble, obedient look and said, "I won't.  I promise."

When the overture started, I had butterflies in my stomach.  This show I had dreamed about as I listened to the soundtrack was coming to life for me, and was so much better than I had possibly imagined.  Lane and Broderick were hilarious, and played off each other brilliantly.  Gary Beach was a scream as overtly gay director Roger De Bris, prancing and mincing like a real trooper.  The main production number was SPRINGTIME FOR HITLER, which is done up big and splashy.  I wanted to belt out the lyrics in unison with the cast so many times, but controlled myself.

After the show, I sought out Kim, and I grabbed her in a hug and lifted her off the ground, spinning her around.  She laughed with glee, and asked how I liked the show.

"Words can't describe.  It was one of the greatest show pieces of entertainment I have ever seen in my life.  And I have you to thank for making this happen."

"Bill, the smile on your face makes it all worthwhile to me.  I love bringing people joy."

"Well you sure brought a barrel full of it tonight for me.  Thank you again and again."

I got her current address and promised to stay in touch.  She said I am one of the only people she knows who actually follows through on that promise.  I felt a flutter in my heart when I hugged her for the last time, remnants of the longtime crush I'd had on her.

But one thing that show really reminded me of.  My goal, my destiny.  I wanna be a Producer!

 

SAVE MY BABY!

 It was New Years Eve, and I was once again surprised by the amount of people that I deliver cars to who choose to take delivery on a holiday.  Their plans are often in flux, and I find myself running all over the place.  This year, it was Wichita, Kansas.

I had spoken to Miss Bellows on the phone, and she said she would be very busy with the birthday party but there would be a slice of cake for me.  This was a red flag for me, because I like to drop off a car and go, not get caught up in the personal lives of my customers.

I was told to arrive at 4pm sharp, and no sooner had I parked and got out before I heard her shouting frantically and urgently.  I came around the side of the house, I saw the most elaborate birthday decorations ever.  At least, in my personal experience.  There were six Papillon dogs all jumping around Miss Bellows, each wearing a party hat and a tutu.  Miss Bellows, a rather rotund woman, was not handling the hectic pace well, although the sad looking man cooking on the grill seemed completely unaffected.

"Hi, I'm Bill Thomas," I said.  "I have your new car here for you."

"Thank God you made it, the boys were afraid that you wouldn't make it for the party." she said.  She seemed kinda peppy, kinda goofy.

"Oh, I can't stay."

"Lucky," I heard the grill man murmur.

"Now I'm gonna have to insist, we have burgers on the grill, there's cake and ice cream.  Right, Jimmy?"

Jimmy nodded glumly at the grill.  "Whatever you say."

"Cheer up Jimmy, it's a party!" she exclaimed.

"And I am thrilled to be here," he said with no conviction.

"Mr. Bill, the birthday boy is Rover, then there's Fido, Spot, Buck, Freckles and Spike."

I smiled and nodded in their direction.  "Nice to make your acquaintance."

"Don't be so sure," mumbled Jimmy.

I needed to get a move on, but didn't want to be impolite.  "If you can just sign my paperwork, I'll get out of your hair."

She put her hands on her hips.  "You are not in my hair.  And if you were, I'd be glad to have you.  Now the gift table is over there, if you have something to honor Rover."

"Run, while you still can," muttered Jimmy to me.

Miss Bellows scooped up Rover and came over to me.  "Mr. Bill, would you hold the birthday boy for me so I can get some pictures?"  She handed me Rover then put a party hat on my head, rubber band under my chin.

"I mean, I guess so."  I looked at the backyard, and it was lush and beautiful.  Right in the middle of it was a large swimming pool, and I wondered if it was heated.

"I have to get my Polaroid camera, its inside."  She ran into the house, and Jimmy started talking.

"OK, we don't have much time, so listen up fast.  She is crazy as a bat, she thinks these dogs are kids.  She will drag you into doggie drama then drag you down so far you lose yourself.  No joke buddy, you should go."

"Are you two roommates?"

"Oh God no!  I'm too stupid for that, I went and married the witch."

"Is she a witch?"

"Well, she ain't Samantha on Bewitched, I can tell ya that, bub."

Miss Bellows came out again just as Rover was trying to leap out of my arms.  She began yelling at me, "You're gonna drop him, you're gonna drop him!"  Rover fell from my arms to the ground, and at the same time Jimmy picked up a tennis ball and threw it towards the backyard.  All six dogs went rushing after the ball, but only five stopped when they reached the edge of the pool where the ball landed with a splash.  Followed quickly by a bigger splash, as one of the Papillon landed in the water.  

A blood curdling scream unlike any I have ever heard came from behind me, and Miss Bellows nearly knocked me down rushing towards the pool.  "My baby!  Save my baby!"  She was hysterical, running around in circles waving her arms over her head.  While the pooch was happily doing the dog paddle. "Someone save my baby Freckles."

I walked down to the pool and scooped the little dog up, offering it to the woman.  She squeezed it so tightly.  "He's fine, he's just fine," Jimmy tried to tell her.

"How can you say that?  I nearly lost my baby.  Did you hear that, Freckles?  You were almost an angel crossing over the rainbow bridge.  You could have drown."

Jimmy shook his head.  "He was fine, he knew how to swim just fine."

She looked insulted.  "Don't be ridiculous, none of my dogs have ever had a swimming lesson in their life."

Jimmy looked up towards Heaven.  "OK God, I'm ready.  Because wherever I go, its going to be a whole lot better than this."

I got the paperwork taken care of and headed for my next pick up.  Just out of curiosity, I called a good friend of mine who is a Veterinarian in Texas and asked if there is a special school where you send dogs to learn to swim.  My friend said, "Yep, it's the same school you send cats to so they learn to hunt mice."

HAPPY NEW YEAR

VIOLENT HALLOWEEN

It is Halloween night, and I am staying with a friend and watching all the trick or treaters come by.  Some of the kids are real cute, but some of the teens seem too old.  Free candy can be a powerful temptation.  I know this Halloween will be better than last year, which ended poorly.

I was in St. Louis stopping off from delivering cars to stay at my buddy's Jimmy's house.  He was planning a big party, and as soon as I got into town I stopped downtown and went to find a branch of my bank, using the GPS.  I soon found the bank, but had to drive three blocks to find any available parking.  I grabbed my bank card from my wallet and put my wallet in the glove box.

I walked the distance to the ATM, took out $260, and headed back for the car.  I noticed there were not too many people around.  After I crossed a street, a large man stepped out of a dark alleyway.  "Hey man."

I just kept walking.

"Hey man, I'm talking to you."  He got in front of me.  "Hey big man, you got a light?"

"Nope, sorry, I don't smoke."  I tried to step around him.

"Help a brother out."

"I would if I could."

"Gimme your money."

"What?"  Then very suddenly, I was grabbed from behind in a bear hug from a large man who held on tight.  

"Money!" shouted the man facing me.  He slugged me several times across the face, and it felt like my skin was being torn.

"You heard him," came the voice of the man holding me.  His breath smelled of cheap whiskey, accentuated by his tremendously strong body odor.  I felt dizzy and nauseous.

"Money, now!" yelled the slugger, then he punched me twice more.  I was angry, but all the fight was punched out of me.  The bigger guy continued to hold me, while his friend when through my pants pockets.  He found the cash and my bank card, and took them both.  When I was released, I collapsed to the ground, just in time for the slugger to kick me in the stomach.  Then they both ran off.

I peered around from my spot on the ground, and I thought sweat was getting into my eyes.  I later learned that it was blood.  My slugger assailant had big rings on his fingers, and they tore my face up.  Some kind folks saw me and ran up, asking how I was and calling 911.  I kept asking them which way the thieves had gone, but none of them knew.  They wanted me to focus on breathing.

I didn't get to go to the party, I spent the night in the hospital.  The Doctor said my face would heal without permanent scars, and that I had a bruised rib.  I called my bank to cancel the card, and had to make a report to the police officers who came to visit my room.  

The thing that concerns me most is that it left me feeling bitter and angry, and wanting some payback for the guys who so brutally attacked me.  I work very hard for my money, and don't make that much.  So I take it personally in the extreme when someone takes a chunk from me.  And bloodies me in the process.  Why is there so much meanness in the world?  I refuse to give in, and will continue to practice love, kindness, and generosity to those in need.  

Whatever happens this year, it's got to be better than last Halloween.

DEAR MR. SPIELBERG

I was driving as fast as I could from Ohio to Louisville, Kentucky where my best friend Steve was in the hospital.  Just three days earlier I had received a surprise call from him.

"Hey Bill," he said with the joy that was always in his voice.  "Oh boy, it's good to hear your voice."

"Same here, buddy.  How have you been?"

 There was a pregnant pause.  "I need to share some news with you.  My Doctor just told me that I have an advanced case of PNH, it's a rare blood disease and Doc says there are some promising experimental treatments.  But, this could be bad."

 "Wait, I don't understand.  How bad are we talking?"

"Dead bad."

"You could die?"

Steve chuckled.  "I will die, but maybe sooner that I had hoped."

"So does this mean our trip across Canada is cancelled?"

"Lord no," he exclaimed.  "I've been looking forward to that road trip with you since high school.  And I still plan to make it with you, once I get this PNH sorted out."

I was way beyond stunned.  "This is hard to process."

"Well Bill, you have been my best friend over 40 years now, and you are the one person I wanted to know about this."

"Wow, 40 years," I said in wonderment.

"Yep, and when I met you in high school, I was fresh out of the backwoods of Kentucky where I had grown up, and people teased me about being a country bumpkin.  But not you.  I remember you pulling me into your wild world of non-stop fun and crazy, and next thing I know I'm helping you make movies."

"I couldn't have made them without you."

"I really doubt that is true.  You were a one man machine back then, there wasn't any obstacle you couldn't overcome.  And I felt so damn lucky that you called me friend."

"I was the lucky one, always have been."

Steve began coughing hard, causing me concern.  He got hold of himself and assured me he had something caught in his throat.  "I have a really big favor to ask of you."

"What's that, buddy?"

"I've had to consider death for the past few days, although I'm not planning on going anytime soon.  But when my time comes, I want you to promise me that you will get one of your screenplays made into a movie.  I've always believed in you, and your writing and your stories are very good.  You just need a break, and I can't tell you how much I admire you for hanging in there."

I was so moved.  "I admire and respect you so much for the good person you are.  You have helped so many people in your life, you have the kindest heart of anyone I know.  You would quite literally take the shirt off your back to clothe a man with no shirt."

"Can I ask one more favor?"

"Anything, Steve."

"Can you please write a letter to Mr. Steven Spielberg and tell him how much his movies meant to you and me?  How we saw every single one of them from JAWS forward.  And the way that each movie marked a major milestone in our friendship.  Like the day my mom was buried, right after the funeral you took me to see ET.  I was so low, but I came out of the theatre with my heart soaring.  Just write him and tell him, for me."

"Sure buddy, if that's what you want."  I didn't have the heart to tell him that the likelihood of my getting a letter to Steven Spielberg was almost as good as winning the Powerball Lottery.  But there is nothing I would not do for my friend. 

 Once I had dropped off the car I was delivering to Dayton, Ohio, I rented a car from a local Avis office and headed for Louisville.  I had not told Steve I was coming, but decided I should call as I got near and let him know.  After repeated calls and texts were not answered, I assumed that he had already started his treatments.  When my phone GPS told me I was 20 minutes from the hospital, my phone rang and I could see it was Steve.  I quickly picked up.  "Hello, best friend in the world."

"Hi, Bill."  It was the voice of Fred, Steve's only child, only he was an adult now with his own kids.

"Fred, how are you?  I'm in Louisville now and on my way to the hospital."

"Bill..."  Fred's voice cracked.  "Dad just died."

"What?  He what?"

"He was driving over to the hospital this morning, it's over 100 miles from his house out in the sticks.  Just 3 miles from the hospital, a man was texting and driving and went through a red light.  T-boned my Dad's car and it was crushed all around him.  He was DOA."

"Wait, this can't be right."

Fred's voice wavered, and he said, "It's not right.  But it's true.  Bill, I'm sorry but I've got a lot to take care of here right now."

"No, of course, I completely understand."  Fred hung up, and I pulled over and parked.  Hot tears streamed down my cheeks, and I felt a deep sense of loss.  Steve was quite simply the best guy I had ever known.  But I pushed down my feelings and got a hold of myself.  I pulled a blank legal pad and a pen out of my backpack.  I made a promise to my best friend, and I had a letter to write.

FAST FOOD DRIVE THRU

 As I was driving a Ford Escape through central Tennessee, I was thinking of something my friend said to me on the phone. He said as he read all of my blogs, he noticed that my boss Riff never changed.  He is always half drunk, yelling at me, hurling insults my way, and not treating me with any respect whatsoever.  My buddy said Riff should show different sides to his personality, and that he has to grow as a character.  I pointed out that I write about Riff exactly as he is, and some things never change.  He pointed out that these are true life stories I write, and that I can fictionalize if I want to.  Dramatic license.  He insists that Riff needs a "character arc."

I was very hungry and got off the highway in a small town to search for fast food.  I didn't see a McDonalds or Wendys anywhere, but I did find a place called Burger Qween, so I drove in and got into the line at the drive thru lane.  When it was my turn at the speaker, I was greeted by an impossibly cheerful man saying "Welcome to the magical land of the Burger Qween, may I take your order?"

"Uh, yes," I stumbled.  "I'd like a fish sandwich --"

The man on the speaker interrupted quickly, saying  "You mean the Fish burger, that cute little cod fish who swims its way down the Alaskan pipeline by the Alaskan coastline, and swims its way into our hearts and our 450 degree fryers?"

"Yes, correct.  And I'd like some fries --"

He interrupted again.  "You mean golden brown french fries, Idaho potatoes sliced and diced before they jump into our 450 degree fryers, cooked just like the French do over in France?"

"Yes, large fries.  And a Sprite --"

"You mean Sprite, that delicious lemon lime soda, tastes like a lymon, and tastes a lot like the Uncola, 7-Up?  Is that what you want sir?"

I was frustrated.  "Yes!"

"I'm sorry sir, we don't serve Sprite here."

That did it.  I stepped on the gas just enough to get me up to the window, where I saw the manic cashier who had taken my order.  

"Hi there, I'm Mark, and I'm here to fill your order."

"Can I get a Coke with that?"

"Instead of the Sprite?"

 "You said you don't serve Sprite."

"You are so right, give the man a cigar!"

"How much?" I asked.

"How much longer?  Why it should just be a few minutes.  What's your rush sailor, slow your roll."

 "I came to a fast food restaurant because I wanted my food fast."

Mark stuck out his bottom lip.  "Well, someone sure is a grumpy Gus today.  Your total is $7.89."

I handed him the money and he gave me change.  "I forgot to tell you, I don't want any lettuce on my Fish sandwich."

"Sorry sir, this isn't Burger King.  It's never have it your way, at Burger Qween its have it OUR way."

 "Bad policy."

He clapped his hands together.  "Bad policy, bad sandwiches, that's Burger Qween.  If you want a really great chicken sandwich, don't buy ours.  Try out Chik Fil A, you will be glad you did."

 "But I ordered a Fish sandwich."

"OK, then try Long John Silvers, their fish is much superior to ours."

"Private!" came a booming voice, as the Manager walked up.

Mark jumped to attention and saluted the manager.  "Yes sir, Commandante..  Reporting for duty, Mr. Doloheim."

"Private Mark, what have I told you about promoting the competition? We have the best burgers, chicken sandwiches and fish sandwiches in the world."

"That is inaccurate and way wrong."

"Not as long as you're working here."

A fellow worker named Jolene brought a few bags to Mark, no doubt my food and the next customer after me. Mark held up a finger to make a dramatic proclamation.  "I shall no longer work for evil overlords who opress me and make me sad to wear this uniform".  Mark pulled off his hat and grabbed the bags.  He jumped out of the drive thru window nearly landing on my car.  He ran down the street, waving the bags of food and screaming "Have it your way!  Have it your way!"

The Manager stuck his head out the window.  "I'm so sorry for the trouble and inconvenience.  Just tell me what you want and it's on the house."  So I gave him my order again, but this time ordered a dessert.  I have been to many fast food joints, but never have I run into anyone remotely like Mark.  I keep wondering where he will be working next... wherever it is I don't want to order my food there.