Tag Archives: late

LIFE IS A GIFT, YOU CAN ONLY DO IT ONCE, IF YOU DO IT RIGHT,ONCE IS ENOUGH

It’s just an ordinary Monday morning. I arrive at my job at Ellis Insurance Company at eight AM sharp. I sit down at my desk and look around the office. It’s unoccupied save for myself. This is extremely odd because Harry and Everett are always sitting at their desks and hard at work when I arrive. Huh, I think that’s weird.

Bank Robbery

I shrug my shoulders and decide to start the coffee and have a look at my schedule while I drink my super-caffeinated brew. I like to start the day with a kick in the keister. If you know what I mean. It looks like it is going to be a busy, busy morning which makes the absents of my bosses even stranger. They’re nose to grindstone types. You know the first ones in the office in the morning and the last to leave. I start looking over the files of the clients that will be arriving shortly. I finish two cups of coffee and feel the call of nature.

When I get up to use the loo, I hear the bell on the door ring and see that it is one of my office mates Martha. She is the bookkeeper. She is a strictly business kind of person. In other words, Martha and I don’t go out on Friday night for a nightcap. She keeps her personal life, personal. We have worked in the same office together for six years and I know nothing about her except that she drives a ten-year-old Honda. That she keeps in tip-top order. She’s tight with her money. She squeezes a penny so tight that I’ve seen Lincoln shed a tear. Yeah, I know that’s an old joke. But it’s a good one.

I tip an imaginary cap at her to say, “hello.” And she raises her chin to me. In Martha talk that’s almost a hug. Then I say, “Martha, did Harry or Everett mention that they would late coming in today?”

“No, they did not but let me check my cell phone to see if they texted me.”

About half a minute later she says, “no nothing.” And then she starts getting ready for the day by booting up her computer. And that’s the last thing she says to me that entire day. Martha is not one to mince words or waste words. I’ve often thought she would have made a great mime. Since she hates to have to resort to talking for any reason.

I was almost finished going through the files I had set aside for this morning when I suddenly realized that Everette and Harry have neither shown up or contacted me or Martha. “Martha have you heard from Everette or Harry yet?”

“No, not yet. I don’t remember them ever being this late without giving us a heads up. It’s probably nothing to worry about. And they’re well aware that we can keep the office running without them. Maybe they just went out for breakfast. You know how they love to eat at the greasy spoon restaurants, the greasier the better.”

“Still I would have thought they would have let us know.” Martha just shrugs her shoulders again and goes back to work. I shoot a text off to Everette since he’s the more organized of the two of them. I decide to continue working until lunch and if we still didn’t hear anything I was going to start contacting the clients they have appointments with this morning and if necessary calling their wives., but that will be the last resort. Harry’s wife is extremely high-strung and jealous. Since Harry has a problem staying away from the ladies. He has a roving eye And Everette’s wife does not like to be bothered by anything going on here at Ellis High-Risk Auto Insurance. In addition, I’m somewhat reluctant to make their families worry without proof that anything is wrong. I set my timer on my cell phone for noon and then I would start my calls.

At twelve o’clock sharp my cell phone alarm goes off and it startles me so much that I let out a little scream. Martha says,” what the hell is wrong with you. You half scared me to death?”

“Sorry Martha, my alarm startled me. I’m going to call Everette and Harry’s wives and see if they know where they are. I’ll try to do it in such a way that they won’t freak out. You know how high-strung they both are.

“High Strung, by that you mean nutty as a couple of fruit cakes? Why are you so worried? They are grown, men. They can take care of themselves.”

“Yeah, I know but still I’m going to check with the wives. I’ll let you know what they say.”

“Don’t bother, I’m sure they’re out to breakfast with new clients or something.”

I called Everette’s wife several times, no answer. She isn’t picking up. I didn’t leave a message because I didn’t want her unduly worried. I just asked her to call me back when she has a chance. Then I called Harry’s wife. Wow, you wouldn’t believe what a nutjob she is. The message on her phone was- I’m busy. Leave me or message or don’t it’s up to you.” She is a real charmer that one.

As I’m eating my lunch which is a thermos of vegetarian vegetable soup and salt-free crackers I contemplate what I should do next. I decided to look at the local news on the internet. There is a news flash. It says local businessmen, Harry and Everette Ellis save the day. And then there is a video of none other than Harry and Everette being clapped on the back by the mayor. What in the world is happening? I yell at the top of my lungs,” Martha, Martha come look at this. Harry and Everette are on the local news. They are heroes.”

“What are you yelling at, I almost peed my pants. And what are you babbling about?”

“I’m not babbling, come here and look at this, Harry and Everette are on the local news. Apparently, they stopped at the bank to make a deposit and there was a bank robbery occurring as they walked in the door. Harry and Everette snuck up behind the robbers and hit them over the heads with money bags. Apparently, Harry was also depositing his daughter’s savings which were ten years of quarters she had been saving. They knocked them out cold. Can you believe it?

“Can you believe it?”

“Honestly, it sounds like a lot of bolognas. It’s probably just a publicity stunt.”
A publicity stunt, what are you talking about? Do you think Harry and Everette set up a fake bank robbery to get publicity? Wow, you are nuttier than I realized. They could go to jail for doing something like that. You have no faith in people at all do you?”

“No, no I don’t why would I? Have you seen the people that come into this office day after day? They are the dregs of humanity, low-life scums.”

“Really that’s what you think of our customers? Then why are you still working here? Why don’t you find another job somewhere else?”

“Maybe, I will. I’m sick of this place.”

I just stare at Martha and shake my head back and forth in disbelief. “Wow, it was better when you kept all your thoughts to yourself. Six years of almost being mute and this is what you finally spew out?” I feel kind of sick to my stomach, I can hardly look at her. You never know who people are and then you do and you wish you didn’t know anything about them.

At that precise moment that Martha enlightened me about who she really was all these years, Harry and Everette burst into the door all smiles. I jump up out of my seat like it’s on fire and run over to them and give them a big smile and a hug. “Our heroes are here. I’m so proud of you two. You two are so brave. You could have gotten yourselves shot.”

“Thanks, Eleanor, I guess we didn’t think about how dangerous it was. We just reacted. The robbers were threatening to shoot the bank tellers and the bank customers. They are all people we have known for years. And there was no way we were going to allow that to happen.

And then Harry whispers, let’s get them and he pointed at the heavy bags of quarters we were carrying. Then the robbers said, you two, get over here and they were shoving all the customers into the bank president’s office. As they pushed us into the office Everette and I swung the money bags and bam we hit them both hard on the head. And they hit the floor like a ton of rocks. And the coin bags split open and poured all over their heads. They didn’t get up again until the police arrived and dragged their sorry asses out into the paddy wagon.”

I hugged them both. Meanwhile, Martha never looks up or says a word to either of them. Harry says, “Hey let’s all go out to lunch and celebrate. What do you say?”

I said, “hell yeah, let’s go to that Japanese restaurant down on Route 38. I love that place.”

“Wait, let me get my purse. Harry and Everette look over at Martha and say, “Hey Martha how about it? Do you want to go out to lunch?”

Martha looks up at them and sees how excited they are and believe it or not she said,

‘Sure, that sounds great.”
I was flabbergasted. I guess it’s never too late for an old cranky old mute to learn a new trick.  That life is a gift that never take for granted.

 

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BETTER LATE THAN NEVER

BETTER LATE THAN NEVER

Time Man Alarm Clock by Miriam Fotos Pixabay

Harry realizes he’s going to be late for work yet again. Jack Loman, his boss at Berkeley’s Department Store, is going to fire him for sure. Harry already has three warnings.

He jumps out of bed and dashes into the bathroom. He quickly washes his face and hands, brushes his teeth, and runs a comb through his overgrown hair. He needs a shave. But no time for that. No time for a shower either. He pulls on yesterday’s clothes that he had tossed over the shower door last night. Checked his pants pockets for his wallet. Grabs his shoes and dirty socks and runs out the front door and slams it shut, and quick steps it to his car. He pulls on the door and realizes it’s locked, and he doesn’t have the keys. “Crap.”

Harry considers putting on his shoes and socks but decides to forgo it. He runs so fast toward the door that he thinks he might have been lifted off the ground for a few moments. He jerks the doorknob hard and nearly dislocates his shoulder. He realizes the door is indeed locked.

Harry thinks,” What now? What now?” He screams a thousand expletives in his head and jumps up a down a few times for good measure. He knows, at some level, he is acting like a five-year-old having a tantrum. He has lost it. He is going to be late again. His boss warned him the next time he was late, his goose is cooked, and he was getting fired. There won’t be any other chances. He’s done; no going back from fired.

At that moment, he realizes that he left the kitchen window open last night. If he is able to boost himself up somehow, he can get his keys. And it isn’t totally impossible that he might just make it to work if he drives like a demon. He decides to go for it.

He double-times it to the back of the house, blocking out the pain of stepping on sticks and stones the whole way. He sees the window. He decides to take a flying leap by running at top speed and propelling himself through the open window. He makes it, and then he realizes there is a full sink of dirty dishes in the sink. He hits the dishes and cups and forks and spoons head first. Luckily there aren’t any steak knives in there.

“Shit.” He screams at the top of his voice. His face feels like he got hit by a Mach Truck. He rolls out of the sink headfirst and lands on his back with his legs splayed out in front of him. He doesn’t know how he even accomplished it. But it seems like a ray of sunshine in the middle of a hurricane. He feels his face; there is some bleeding but not too bad. He might look like he got into some kind of brawl at a biker bar. At least, that’s what he plans on telling everyone.

He pushes himself up off the floor. And limps over to the hooks by the door and reaches out to grab his keys. They aren’t there. He has a strong impulse to jump up and down again. He manages to suppress it.

At that moment, he pats his pants pockets. And low and behold, his keys are in his pants pocket. If he weren’t sore all over, he would do an Irish Jig. Instead, he heads out the back door towards the driveway, keys in hand. He slams them home in the door lock and yanks the door open. This hurts his arm and shoulder.

He gets in the car and starts it up. The engine grinds a little but doesn’t start up right away, and then it suddenly catches. As the engine catches and Harry backs out of the driveway like a bat out of hell. And he puts the peddle to the metal and is finally on his way.

He takes Main Street to Poplar Avenue and sees the turn for Interstate 40, and enters the highway without really looking. And he nearly hits the guy in front of him. He shoots him the bird. Harry keeps going; barring some unforeseen event, he should be getting off the 40 in about six minutes. And that is when he realizes that the red warning light is telling him he’s out of gas. His car stops as Harry pulls it to the shoulder of the road. Harry repeatedly bangs the steering wheel with his open palms. A tear rolls down his battered cheek. He pulls the keys out and stuffs them in his pocket.

He slams the door shut and starts walking off the ramp onto Mt. Ephraim Blvd. As he walks, he sticks his thumb out, hoping someone, anyone, will take pity on him and give him a ride.

After about five minutes of walking down the busy road, he is covered in dust and even managed to step on a dead animal of some kind. He doesn’t bother to take a closer look. He hears someone beep at him, either telling him to move or offering to give him a ride.

He looks back at the car beeping, and he sees some fat guy gesturing at him to get in his car, which he has slowed down to a halt. He walks over to the car, and the guy gestures at him to get in. He does. Harry is about to say,” Thanks, buddy,” when he realizes that the fat guy in the driver’s seat is none other than his boss. He doesn’t know if he should cry or laugh, so he does both.

His boss leans over and says, “Rough morning, Harry?”