CRAP-ON
Saturday I work till
noon. I got a call from heinz at about
11:30, he was talking about going to the big book store. We talk for a
bit, I'd
like to go but we were having some trouble with the furnace. I need a
thermal-couple
I think. The pilot goes out at night.
That reminds me of a joke.
I call deb and get back
with hienz.
to
cut to the point I took a crap on the side of I-94
Not that it has anything to
do with crap on the freeway but today I got a lot of laughs at this
story about
me and heinz, when he crawled up on the roof of my gremlin. I was doing
65 down
I-75 and heinz rolls down the window and crawls out up on the roof.
there was a
car behind me. It backed way off and
started flashing the bright. I had a
factory installed roof rack on the car but I remeber reading that it was only rated for 150 POUNDS of luggage
and heinz had to go 250 (read as 280). I didn't slow down
I kept it right at 65. Maybe he will start
pounding on the roof wanting off. But instead he leans his head over
the roof
and gives me the face upside down through the wind shield.
The face had
stated back in high school. It
was the late seventies, I think it was just before
disco. The world was pure. I met heinz in the
tenth grade. We weren't sportys, burn outs, or band fags. I guess you
had to be
something so we were woodsmen. (the few, the proud, the flannel clad
and Vibram
soled) There were maybe five or seven of us. Some-times on the fringe
of the
burn out crowd, sometimes a guy went
sporty but never came close to turnin'
band fag.
I don't know who did the
first one time. One I got hienz at Backus Flowers. there were a few
customer in
there. Heinz was standing in line. I knock on the glass, every body
looks out
the window. I push my face up against the window and blow my cheeks
out.
Then I am so embarrassed
I got to go hide in his old Mercury Murauder.
They had just put
a big addition on the high
school and what use to be the library
became the LRC, Learning Resource Center, see it was books and
so much
more, I think they had micro fish and some dumb cassette tapes that you
had to
listen to with headphones and sit in this cubical and stare at the
beige burlap
fabric, really the kind of thing that will broaden your horizons.
Little did I
know that it was training for the office of tomorrow. I'd go there on
my
lunchhour, you had to sign in, and sign out when you left. My next
class was on
the second floor, so were the emergency exits. I would sign in under a
pseudonym(Jerry Jepta, Mort Neff, Bob Seger) and as I made my illegal
exit I
would bang on the door release bar so that the Librarian would hear me
leavin'.
I made the mistake of tellin' hienz about this. Some advice; when you
are
running a scam, keep your mouth shut.
I enter the LRC, sign in as
Dick Beninya, and find me an atlas of Michigan Rail lines(circa 1900). I head up the stairs and settle into a beautiful sea of beige burlap. It is time to
go, I hit the door with a loud bang. I am shocked, it won't budge. The
noise
has alerted my nemesis, the library. I have no time. I push again with
all my
might. Suddenly a face appears through the narrow, wire reinforced
glass
window. Its heinz, he has barred the door. He gives me the face through
the
window. I turn around, my escape thwarted, I will retreat to the safety
of the
beige burlap cube. The librain was laying for me. She stands on the
steps. She
becons me. Shackled in defeat I am lead to the sign in sheet.
"where is your
name" she poses the rhetorical question
"I singed in as Dick
Beninya" I reply
"why?" If I had a
nickel for every time some one has asked me why I do stupid things.
"because I thought it
was funny" the rest of the interrogation becomes a blur.
to cut to the point it was
a an credibly bright snow covered January Saturday. Heinz was there in
the
parking lot at 12:00 when I got out of work. He had a universal furnace
thermal-couple. It was an extra that he had acquired during a stint in
the bld.
maint. trades.
It had been decided that a
coworker and new friend, Steve, would accompany them to the Big Book
Store. The
Big Book Store is on Cass Avenue across I-94from Wyane State
University. They
claim they don't have a bathroom. They have a
$1.00 to enter and read used perve books and magazines room, but
they
have no bathroom. I feel my gut start to churn and think this anit
gonna be
pretty.
After the very audiable
lack of bathroom conversation with the argumentative manger of the big
book
store I say to heinz and Steve "lets get going."
Heinz anti in no hurry he
is looking through some boxes of old National Lampoon. I about got to
shake him
"lets go". the three of us crawl into the garden city lighting truck.
A
Chevy I call the Garden City Lightin Truck; with the air cleaner
flipped
over so she can breath through a 4 barrel carb, hand fabbed headers
dumpin into
hypo-billy mufflers and them meat tenderizing Goodyear snows all the
way
around,
Oh
man, oh man I'm leaning over the wheel driving and looking for
an abandoned house to crap in. I know its hard to believe but I can't
find one.
I'm about to get on the freeway.
possible evacuation scenarios race through my mind. Oh man, Oh mannn. I
turn
down the entrance ramp trying to tell myself
I will make it to the suburbs. I picture a sanitary public
restroom,
warm, sparkling, with a large soft roll of fresh toilet paper. Reality
punches
me in the gut and doubles me over. I anit never gonna make the suburbs.
I
pull'er up on the shoulder and park it in the foot deep snow. I anit
gonna shit
my pants. No trees for cover, nothing. I drop my draws, squat down next
to the truck and let loose.
steves
yelling something about a HUGE PILE UP ON I-94. Heinz is
trying to get him to take off in the truck.cars are goig buy honking the look of horror on one ladies face is
frozen in my mind. No toilet paper I grab a hand full of snow and do
the best
job I can. I wipe off my hand best I can and get back in the truck.
It hits me again but this
time I take a book with me. Jail House Sluts, I still got it but its
missing
more than a few pages. I hear a a kock on the back window there is
heinz given
me the face.