The first room immediately to my right after entering the
House of George, is the living room. Directly in front of me are two Lazy Boy
rockers with an end table that sits between them. The ashtray on the table is
filled to capacity with smoked cigarettes.
In the corner behind one of the Lazy Boy Rockers sits a giant cage. In the cage sits a giant parrot. This is George Jr., says George presenting the bird with a sweep of his arm.
In the corner behind one of the Lazy Boy Rockers sits a giant cage. In the cage sits a giant parrot. This is George Jr., says George presenting the bird with a sweep of his arm.
“Hi George Jr.” I say taking a step closer to the cage.
“Fuck You Cocksucker,” the bird screams as he bounces up and down. “I would
watch my hand near George Jr.” George says before pulling me gently back from
the cage. “Faggot, Faggot, Cocksucker!” The bird screams before grasping the
bars with his beak. He moves one foot at a time to hang onto the side of the
cage and flap his wings. “Cocksucker, Cocksucker!” he screams again.
“Isn’t that cute?” George asks me, “I taught him that.”
“Fuck you, Fuck You!” screams George Jr. apparently to both of us. The bird
never stops talking as George gives me the tour of the living room. On the
opposite side of the room is a large giant wooden box, roughly the size of a
coffin with a movie screen attached to it.
“This is my favorite thing.” George
says as he strokes the top of the box with the sleeve of his jacket. “The
latest in home stereos, everything is attached and runs through speakers
located throughout the house.” George reaches down, lifting the lid of the box.
“This is a laser disc player.” The lid creaks open as I take a step forward. Inside
the box are three light units that will project on the screen as soon as it’s
turned on. Next to the television, George makes another proud sweep with his
arm. “This is my Laser Disc Collection.”
I notice the first two titles on the shelf are the Texas
Chain Saw Massacre and I spit on your grave. The discs are the same size as a vinyl
record; they have a hard plastic outside. “How do you play these?” I ask.
“Well, the disc is inside and you click it into the player,” George says
pulling out I spit on your grave. The cover of the disc shows a girl who has
clearly been through a rough situation, holding a knife. George begins to
ramble on explaining how to turn the television on with the speakers, how to
make the sound go through the house and how to turn on the cable. I have
stopped listening and stare at the cover of I spit on your grave, in the
background George Jr. is screaming “Cocksucker, Cocksucker!”
The tour continues. The next room on this floor is the
laundry room; George goes through all the rules and regulations of doing
laundry and with a smile adds, “That’s if you decide to live here.” I’m not
listening but looking around at everything, something doesn’t seem right about
George, about the house and about the bird. My Spidey sense is tingling again
and I do what I do best, I try to ignore it.
The last room on this floor is the kitchen. There is a
stove, refrigerator and a long counter top. “I work late and stop on my way
home to pick up food.” George says opening the fridge, which is half empty with
take out boxes.
“Where are the bedrooms?” I ask, “Next stop on our tour, in
the basement!” George steps forward to the end of the kitchen and opens a door.
I can see a flight of stairs.
To be continued….
Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writing "A Day in the Life". It can not be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.
Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writing "A Day in the Life". It can not be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.
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