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Sunday, March 30, 2014

All the Nuts aren’t with The Pancake’s Part 15

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I scream jumping three feet in the air. I quickly rap my knuckles on the glass. His face doesn’t move his grin just gets bigger.

“It’s a free country and I can do what I want to do.” Chris yells back at me.

“Even watch me in the shower?”

“Yup.” he says absent-mindedly as he rubs his moustache. I turn around to face the wall.

“Especially when I got the keys to the castle.”

I turn back to him, he doesn’t move, he just starts to giggle.

This I heard perfectly clear and my brain decides immediately what this means.

I turn away from him again.

“Keys to the castle?” I ask purposely bending over to soap my legs.

“Yeah, keys. I got him wrapped around my little finger.”

“Who, do you have wrapped?” I ask not looking up.

“You know who and I can do whatever I want here.”

Chris then leans forward and taps the glass again.

“Nice butt,’ he hisses.

I quickly stand up, turn around and bang my hand against the glass. Chris just giggles. He smiles, and I see that he has yellow little teeth. “Like a rat,” I think to myself.

“So you better watch your butt missy,” Chris points a finger at me, then swirls it. He goes to take a step and staggers forward. His face is now pressed to the glass.

“I made one of them disappear already and the second one is on his way out.”

Suddenly it is crystal clear to me. It is early in the afternoon and Chris is bombed. He begins to ramble on about George and how he made Fred disappear.

Chris suddenly leans in cups his hand to the glass as if he is telling me a secret. “And, that nasty queen is next,” Chris whispers then points to the ceiling.

I assume that he is talking about Bill but I don’t question it, not yet.

Chris staggers away from the shower hitting his shoulder on the way and bouncing back towards George’s room. I watch him trip and stagger to the staircase.

An hour later I find Bill and tell him what Chris said.

“Girl that hooker is up to no good.” Bill says lighting up a cigarette. He then leans on the counter blows out a stream of smoke, looks directly at me.

 “Lordy,” he says looking right in my eyes. “I hope that he doesn’t fall prey to an even nastier queen than himself.” Bill then throws his head back and releases a cackle.

Somewhere in the distance, I imagine thunder and lightning.


To be continued…


Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writing "A Day in the Life/Down the Rabbit Hole". It cannot be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.

Sunday, March 23, 2014

All the Nuts aren’t with The Pancake’s Part 14

The next day the house phone rings and rings. The machine picks up and my manager from Denny’s is on the line. He started leaving messages for me earlier in the day. At first the messages were of concern but the message get more and more angry and violent the longer I don’t pick up or call back.

“Geoff, pick up this goddamned phone!”

He screams into the answering machine

“Hello?”

“Hello!”

“So you got thrown up on?”

“So what?”

“It happens!”

“Hello?”

“Are you coming back in?”

“Why did you leave the floor without telling anyone that you were leaving?” “Goddamn it, pick up this phone!”

(Audible Scream) and click.

Mr. Bock has left a total of fifteen messages. I can hear them through the ceiling. The answering machine is directly above my room.

I was laying in the dark. Suddenly I smell cigarette smoke.

“Honey?” It was Bill.

“Sweetie?” He is standing outside my bedroom in the dark, smoking. He begins to speak but has long pregnant pauses in between each thing he says.

“You’re gonna have to pick up the phone sooner or later.”

“Getting puked on is not the end of the world.”

“Not that I would know.”

“It is pretty gross though.”

“Actually the more I think of it, it is disgusting.”

“Honey you lay in the dark and fuck them and that job.”

“You deserve better than that!”

I listened to his feet shuffle away.

I plan on going back. I think. Yes, I need a job.

I have no money and no food. I will have to swallow my pride and call Mr. Bock the manager back soon. I know that there is a limited time window on how soon I will have to call him back and still have my job.

I swing my legs over the side of the bed and come to sitting.

I’ll take a shower and I will start to feel better.

I come to standing and head out of the bedroom.

The basement is dark so I don’t turn the lights on until I get to the shower.

I reach in and turn on the water and as it starts to warm up, I peel off my clothes. Kicking my underwear to the floor I reach over and flip the light in the shower on. I step in and let the water run over my head. The water runs into my eyes and down my body. The steam immediately begins to cover the glass. I don’t like not being able to see outside the shower so I run my hand over the glass and wipe away the fog. I have only been in the shower for ten minutes.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see movement on the other side of the glass.

I raise my hand and wipe the glass again.

This time I find Chris on the other side of the glass watching me shower.

to be continued…



Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writing "A Day in the Life/Down the Rabbit Hole". It cannot be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.


Monday, March 17, 2014

All the Nuts aren’t with The Pancake’s Part 13

I pull up in front of the house and park on the street. I don’t initially turn off the engine but sit there with it running. I have just finished chain smoking a full pack of cigarettes on my ride home. 

Thank god I bought two packs. 

The smell of vomit is still in my nose and clings to my clothes. It has enveloped the car.

I shut off the engine, light another cigarette, roll my window all the way down and slump low in my seat. I glance towards the house, there is a light blazing in the living room window. I can’t tell you whom I’m going to find when I walk in tonight because I’m never here at this time.

I play the night over and over in my head. Had I stepped up to the table moments later, would I be sitting here right now? The clicking of the engine tells me that it’s cooling off. I can’t sit here all night.

I pull the seat back up to sitting, flick my cigarette butt out the window; it lands blowing sparks onto the pavement. I crank the window back up and push the door open. The overhead light lets me see in my rearview, I still have the vomit in my hair. I push the urge to cry back down as far as I can. Unfortunately, I have let it get too close to the top. It bubbles over and I begin to sob. I begin to sob uncontrollably. I’m not sure why I am crying but I suddenly feel less than human. I feel worthless and trapped. I feel sorry for myself and I feel sorry for my situation. I hate where I am living. I hate where I am working. I am hating, hating, hating…

My breakdown hits hard and has delivered a message too me just as quickly. I need to find a way out. I need to change everything in my life. I am the only one who can do it. I need to create a plan. I need to see things clearer.

I pop a cigarette in my mouth, light it and wipe the tears out of my eyes. Its bad enough that I look this bad but I can’t let it effect me. I can’t let this pull me down. I have to be strong. I can only rely on myself.

“Pull your shit together!” I yell out loud. I drop my cigarette and grind it out with my shoe.

I lift my chin, walk up the sidewalk, put my key in the lock and push open the door. Sitting in the living room is George. He is in his recliner, the chair is pushed back, he is fully reclined. He is wearing a blue shorty robe that is open at the crotch. Black fuzzy slippers sit crooked on his feet and a full ashtray sits on the coffee table next to him.

He pauses, looks up from watching his television show to look at me.

“Jesus Christ you look like shit!”

He wrinkles his nose and sniffs the air.

“Jesus Christ you smell like shit!’

A smile crosses his face and he turns back to his television. Somewhere in that smile, I can see him finding happiness in my misery.

Sitting in the chair opposite George is a dirty, little, twinkie boy. He is dressed exactly like George. Same style bathrobe and slippers.He continues to watch television and never looks up. The yellow light from the table lamp reflects off his pencil thin moustache.

“Oh this is Chris,” George says blowing smoke into the air.


to be continued…

Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writing "A Day in the Life/Down the Rabbit Hole". It cannot be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.

Sunday, March 9, 2014

All the Nuts aren’t with The Pancake’s Part 12

The vomit hits me in my chest with such a force, that I take a step back. My soul actually tries to escape by pushing backwards, out of my body.

The vomit spreads from its point of impact and flies into my hair, my eyes, my nose, and runs down the front of my pants.

My body locks and I can’t move. As if in a movie, suddenly everything goes into slow motion. I can no longer hear the familiar muzak playing from the speaker’s overhead or smell the familiar clam chowder overcooking on the steam table. 

The sound I hear is all muffled, sort of like I am underwater and my sense of smell has become overpowered. I look at the faces of the people at the table who are watching this happen. Again it is in slow motion. Their faces contort from a look of shock, to a look of horror and disgust. I can see a man reach for a handful of napkins and extend his hand towards me.

“They’re all going to laugh at you Carrie White.” Says a little voice in my head

Frozen and all I can hear is a drip, drip, drip sound as the vomit drops off my face and hits the tip of my shoe. Frozen and I feel as if I am standing like this for hours. Time no longer exists. Sound no longer exists. All I can hear, smell and feel is the vomit dripping off of me.

I can see the table, and the woman who did this. Her head is back on the table and they are saying something to me. I believe, It’s an apology, but I don’t move.

Once my brain processes what happened, it decides to step in and make something happen to me. I slow turn around and face the dining room floor. Everyone is looking at me. Everyone is looking at me.

“They’re all going to laugh at you Carrie White,” says the little voice in my head again.

I can see Michelle, Lois and Anne frozen by the register, looking at me. Lois and Anne have come out on the floor to start work. Michelle is leaving and has changed out of her uniform. I can see the look of horror on their faces.

My head slowly moves from side to side as it pans every table, every customer. My hands are still frozen in mid air, it looks like I tried to block the vomit as it hit me or I was in the middle of a “hold up” when it happened.

Slowly, I pivot away from the girls on my heel and head towards the kitchen door. Every eye is on me as I walk. The busboys standing in front of the kitchen part as I come near them. They too have a look of horror on their faces.

I step into the kitchen. The polyester shirt of my uniform is stuck to my skin. Without a word, I unbutton my shirt and my vest. My nametag is no longer visible but I can see the Denny’s logo peeking out at the top.

I slide the t-shirt and the vest off my arms and drop it into the garbage can under the time clock. I pivot again and head back out of the kitchen, this time from the door closest to the register.

“It didn’t happen,” my brain reassures me. I am now wearing a vomit stained white t-shirt, vomit covered uniform pants and vomit covered shoes. Without a word to anyone I walk past the register, head out the front door of the restaurant and climb into the front seat of my car. I start the engine. Without a second thought I pull out of the parking lot and onto the main road.


I am heading home.


to be continued…

Geoffrey Doig-Marx holds all written and electronic rights to his writing "A Day in the Life/Down the Rabbit Hole". It cannot be reprinted in part or whole without his written consent.

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