Wednesday, November 19, 2008

Tastes like trouble: IX

He closed the little book and looked hard at me. “You know I want to believe you. Something like this could mean a great deal to a lot of people. Even if the gold has already been recovered its likely to lead us to some very bad people.”

That's interesting, I was under the impression that the bad people didn't have it, hence my extreme makeover. I pointed at my eye, the swelling had gone down. I was now sporting a very purple and yellow face. I looked ready for the big game, it was too bad we weren't at the Mertodome.

There are all kinds of bad people.” My fork had been resting on the edge of the plate. “If you are done, there is someone I want you to meet.”

I shrugged, I could have gone for a slice of pie but my gluttony was usurped by a general sense of guilt. Holocaust gold and murderous Nazi spawn suddenly filled my stomach with stones. I pushed my plate aside and tented my napkin on the plate signaling my unconditional surrender to what remained on the plate. We got up and left, someone other than me payed.


On the street I felt charitable and informed a bum that he was about fourty years to young to have been in Vietnam. As we pulled away I watched as he gave me the bird and change his sign to say Gettysburg. He must have been an art student, I must have missed his point. I am not sure he had a point.


We didn't drive far. Before long we were pulling into an underground parking garage. It was under a nice large plain looking building that had government written all over it. We took an elevator up to the seventh floor. A secretary greeted the UIO and handed me an icepack. I tried to protest telling her the swelling had gone down. It seemed like the place was swarming with UIO men.

John, they have been waiting for you. Trotter is pissed, Gregs is worried.”

I have some answers...” John Said and then pointed to me, “He has some answers.”

I shrugged and mouthed its in his little book, the book has the answers, pointing at his pocket with the hand that wasn't holding the icepack to my eye. My nurse took my real nurse to sit down in the lobby. And by my real nurse I mean my girlfriend. Who still happened to be with us, we didn't forget about her or drop her off or anything.... And I guess if the UIO man has a name everybody might as well know that her name is Karen. Karen went to the a waiting room or lobby or someones office or soemthing with the secretary. The secretary doesn't get a name.

John turned as we went into the meeting room. “Jess, can you get me the files off my desk regarding this case?”

Well shit. Ok, the secretary gets a name too. The secretary's name is Jess, and she is getting files off of John's desk.

She replied, “Sure John.”

It was like they were flaunting their identities.

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