Four total strangers. Four unusual names. Four guys who grew up as an only child. Four guarded hearts. Four lost souls. And now, four best friends. Each has lived his entire life as an isolated prisoner of his own quirky identity. But together, they sense in one another a strange brotherhood. They need that and more to rise up and battle an eighteen year-old, naughty little scandalous girl, in a voter fraud fiasco that shocks New York City. Set to launch late March. Brace yourself for the most fun, entertaining novel of 2012.
PARKWAY PRESS
#1 Independent Publisher
P.O. Box 252
Niles, OH 44446-0252
United States
www.ParkwayPress.com
Copyright © 2012 David Brown. All rights reserved.
PARKWAY PRESS is a trademark of Parkway Press, Ltd.
ISBN 10: 0982808941
ISBN 13: 9780982808948
Printed in the United States of America
First Edition
This is an original work of fiction. All characters, names, places, events, and incidents portrayed in this novel are either fictitious or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, mechanical or electronic, including photocopying and recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author or publisher (except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages and/or short brief video clips in a review.)
Caution: This novel contains adult content and is not suitable for young children.
CHAPTER ONE
Meet Geek
THE MOST SKILLED SURGEON IN THE WORLD can't remove the insecurity embedded in the pit of his stomach.
A rainy, late September morning awakens New York City.A young man known by most as Geek, laces up his shoes, puts his glasses on, grabs the sport jacket he'd tossed on the back of his couch the night before, and heads out the door hoping today will be different.
Getting out of the bed each morning to face a new day is often a struggle for him. One that's a continual battle between despair and his healthy, productive side. His mind often drifts back to his childhood and how difficult it had been. He trots down the stairs from his small studio apartment on the third floor at Normandie Court, Upper East Side.
Outside, he walks at a brisk pace before sprinting. Why am I running? he thinks. Am I running toward the truth, from it, or both? As the rain begins to slow – so does he. Winded, his calves cramp up, and his lungs burn like a blacktop driveway on a scorching July afternoon. He arrives, on time, at the subway station at Lexington Avenue and 96th Street, and hops a cross-town bus to work. He makes it to work in a cheerful mood. He walks into his classroom and senses a different attitude. He can smell the tension in the air. A stale, odor of a room occupied by people breathing, yet no one's talking.
Did anybody brush their teeth this morning? he wonders. He checks his own breath under a cupped hand to make sure it's not him. His job as a new sensitivity instructor is tough - especially when no one gives a shit.
A normal guy, although a bit peculiar, life to this point has never been fun for Geek. Six-foot tall with a wiry build and wispy light brown hair cut above the ears, he sports the semblance of a mustache never touched by a razor.
A graduate with honors in Social Work from NYU, Geek took extra courses each semester so he could finish in three years. At commencement, he skipped the ceremonies. He didn't want to walk across the stage to accept his diploma because his name would be announced aloud. He asked the school to send it in the mail.
It's Monday. In the mind of a guy with a quirky nickname, it marks the third day since Thursday when he last laid eyes upon his co-workers and students. Not only that, he'll turn twenty-years-old in less than a week. Geek's job is to assist a class of five earlytwenty-somethings, on how to deal with their feelings after being made fun of most of their lives. As a new instructor, it's his job to help foster a safe atmosphere in which his students are free to express themselves.
No one seems to want to talk about their painful pasts, or the name calling and disrespect they have endured. Geek knows he has to jump start this morbid group. Searching the room from side to side, his eyes rest on Vanessa, an attractive young woman who's wearing way too much makeup. He looks at Gavin, who's sitting next to her. He sees only the top is his shaggy, mashed up head of hair, as his face is buried beneath two folded arms resting on his desk.
Geek's eyes blink to the left, as he now studies Dominic, who's dressed in vintage retro grunge and nodding off. He decides to take action. He summons Gavin to start the group session. Grumpy and unshaven, he wakes from a short nap. Geek encourages him to share his feelings.
Gavin yawns, stretches his arms and legs to loosen up, and takes in a deep breath before speaking.
“PUSSY!” he blurts out. “I can't tell you how many damn times I've been called a PUSSY! Yeah, I said it...P-U-S-S-Y...pussy, okay...pussy!”
Geek leans down to a woman in the group and whispers in her ear.“Geez, how many times is he gonna say that word?”Mercedes, pretty and curvy, with flawless mocha skin, glares at him. She reels her head back like the rod of a fisherman who snagged his greatest catch ever. She smacks her full lips and rolls her eyes.
Class discussion continues. Charles is up next. Nervous, his foot shakes a hundred miles an hour under his desk. He jumps right in.Jerk-off!” he proclaims. “And jag-off, too! I've been called a jerk-off since the fifth grade, and I'm sick of it! If I so much as hear see you later masturbator one more time –I'm gonna hurt somebody!”
“What caused your initial pain?” Geek asks.
“People called me a jerk-off because one time in the tenth grade, I got caught in the boys restroom...well...” he said, closing and shaking his right hand up and down, “doing my thing. I'm a man's man. I gotta a right to, you know, touch myself.”
“Well, of course you do,” Geek acknowleges.
“I may have done that before, and I might do it from time to time, but it is not who I am. I reject the mockery I receive because of it!” Gavin continues. Out of the corner of his eye, Geek gets a glimpse of the shadow of a man standing at the window of the closed classroom door. The man opens the door about half-an-inch, and screams.
“FREAKS!”
The man slams the door and disappears. Geek runs over, opens it, and explodes into the hallway. His head snaps to the right and left, but he sees no one. Puzzled, he returns his attention back to his class. Charles leaps up from his chair and announces he needs a bathroom break.
“Class isn't finished yet,” Geek tells him. “I, uh...I gotta pee...now,” Charles responds. The other students laugh it up. Everyone knows why Charles needs to rush to the bathroom –except Geek. A few seconds pass before he realizes why. “Ohhh...now I get it.”
It's Vanessa's turn. She shares her feelings about the one thing which annoys her to no end. Geek leans forward to listen – because she talks really fast.
“Why?” she said in a soft tone.
“Why what?” Geek asks.
“Drug companies. They're driving me crazy!” she said, her pitch rising to a scream.
“In what way?”
“Why do they advertise their pills in TV commercials, trying to convince us how great they are, and how they'll improve our lives? At the end, they tell us about all the side-effects that could kill us!”
Everyone laughs and nod in agreement.
“You have a valid point, Vanessa,” Geek replies. “Perhaps the Food and Drug Administration attempts to be as transparent as possible in their disclaimers, thus avoiding liability.”
“Bullshit!” she yells. Earsplitting, it rocks the other students in their chairs, causing each of their limbs to flinch hard, in reaction.
“I'm so tired of them saying, 'side effects of XYZ drug are common, and include headache, nausea, vomiting, serious illness, death, dizziness, stomach pain, angina, skin rashes, wardrobe malfunction, stinky feet, depression, toenail rot, brain freeze, darkened poop, demonic worship, excessive bleeding of the gums, vampirism, involuntary defecation, vaginal squirting, amnesia...,”
Vanessa's chest inflates like a balloon as she takes a deep breath to refuel her remaining tirade.
“Whuuuhhh...”
“Gender confusion, spontaneous spitting, spontaneous cussing, spontaneously bitch slapping your bestie, knotted armpit hair, giant boogers in your nose, frequent urination, explosion of your tits or balls, dreams of homosexual zombies, farting and liking the smell, persistent sexual arousal syndrome, perpetual erection....,”
“Are you finished?” Geek barges in.
“No! There's more!” she barks, inhaling again.
“Whuuuhhh...”
“Randomly flippin' people off, diarrhea of the mouth, personality disorder, facial warts, the heebie-jeebies, rectal dryness, rectal itching, rectal fingering, hemorrhoid explosion, sleep crime, uncontrollable singing, hallucinations, psychosis, euphoria, hangover, cranial twitching...”
“Whuuuhhh...”
“Visions of mass naked aliens, excessive forehead wrinkles, convulsions, cat tongue, the urge to lick yourself, rage, short-term insanity, severe sweating, eye mucus, extreme morning breath, pubic hair discoloration, color blindness, stuttering, insomnia, and dark yellow piss...whew!”
She straightens her blouse, skirt, and flips a wayward band of red hair to the side of her face.
“Now I'm done.”
“Whoa, awesome, girl!” Dominic said, clapping. “Is it my turn now?” he asks Geek.
“Sorry, class is over. It will have to wait until next time.”
“Well, okay. Can I say two things before we go?”
“Sure, Dominic, but make it quick.”
“I like the word, crotch.”
“Two, why are fortune cookies shaped like female genitals?”
“Okay, gang. I think we've absorbed enough abuse in one day,”Geek said. “Meet back here, same time, Wednesday morning.”
Out of nowhere, Geek whips around in reaction to the roar of a bloody, knock-down-ass-gettin'- kicked, brawl in the alley below. He hurries to the side window of his third-floor classroom, and opens it about an inch. He gives a quick wave goodbye to the last two students, as his eyes beam in on a kid, twelve or so, beating the hell out of three older, larger, teenagers in the rain-slicked alley.
He notices a young girl standing off to the side - both hands cover her mouth. Horrified, as if watching a scene from Silence of the Lambs, her eyes are as big as a dinner plate. He wonders if they skipped school to avoid the bullies, and were later followed into the alley. One of the bullies wraps his arms around the kid's chest, holding him from behind, while a second foe rears back his right hand to throw a punch to his face. Before he can launch his fist, the kid uses the other bully holding him as an anchor, lifts up both legs, and kicks the chump in the chest, knocking him five feet in the opposite direction.
He whips a leg backward around the larger teen's ankle, tripping him to the ground, using his body to cushion the fall. A third hooligan jumps on the kid while he's on the ground, but he breaks free, rises to his feet, and punches the delinquent square in the face, knocking him out cold. The kid turns his attention back to the other punk lying on the ground, jumps on him, and pummels his face with piston-like right crosses. The other two ruffians take off running, leaving their friend behind. Battered and bleeding, the last bully staggers to his feet, cursing the kid as he runs out of the alley.
Huffing, the kid stands in a fighting posture, fists still clenched and sweat pouring down his face. He relaxes, and walks over to put his arm around the little girl, who gives him a big hug. They gather their book bags and glance over their shoulders to make sure the hoodlums are long gone. The kid wipes a glob of blood from his nose, and the two walk out of the alley.
Geek shakes his head and whispers to himself, “I wish I could fight like that.”
His boss, Jonathan, enters the classroom. “Hey, Geek wad,how'd class go?”
“The usual. I think we're making progress. At least they're opening up more.”
“Well, keep at it, Geek hole, you'll get 'em headed in the right direction.”
“Oh, by the way, didn't you wear that lame shirt and tie yesterday, and the day before?” Jonathan asks, noticing a long, wayward string of thread dangling from the end of Geek's tattered tie.
“Um, I don't remember...maybe. Sir, did you happen to see anyone running down the hallway about a half-hour ago, or hear anyone shouting?”
“Nope, sure didn't, Geek fart,” Jonathan said. He rips the string off Geek's tie, rolls it into a tiny ball between his fingers, and flicks it in his face, before walking over to the window, and out of earshot. Geek lowers his head and scans his wardrobe – realizing he needs to go shopping.
Truth is, Geek can't stand Jonathan.
“What a bonehead.” he quietly fumes to himself with a clenched jaw, as he fidgets with folders on his desk. “I hate the stupid nicknames. Geek piss, Geek snot, Geek germ, Geek dirt, Geek barf, Geek spit, Darth Geeker, you name it.”
Jonathan Glickman is a bully – a twenty-four year-old corporate bully, to be exact. He doesn't like anyone, feels entitled, thinks he's perfect, and he hired Geek for the sole purpose of entertaining himself by abusing him every day. Single, living alone, bills to pay and desperate, Geek needed the job. He's been hurt so often he's been unwilling – more like afraid – to take risks. He's a guy with a guarded heart and a distant, yet caring and sensitive personality. He carries a lot of baggage and self-doubt, but deep inside he craves change.
After only a month on the job, Geek reaches his boiling point.
He turns to Jonathan, who's still standing at the window. “Hey, buddy,” he snarls at him. “What can I do for ya, Geek wipe?” Jonathan said. “Go to hell!” Geek blurts out. “That's what you can do for me! It's over! I quit! You can take this low paying job, ball it up in your clammy little hands – and shove the stench of it right up your panty waste – you pathetic butt muncher!”
Seeing that kid beat the crap out of those creeps in the alley has given Geek some balls. He flips Jonathan off – with both hands, and races out of the classroom to the bathroom down the hall. He leans down in front of a toilet and barfs. Chocking a bit on the backwash, his iPhone rings. A peek reveals it's his on again, off again, girlfriend, Zoe Jackson, whom he met at NYU.
Today spells off again, as she'd broken up with him last week. Geek doesn't have the strength to answer it. He's not sure if he's finished puking. He flushes once, and a second time. Dejected, he walks to the sink and takes a long look at himself in the mirror. While washing his face and hands, his head jerks up and his eyes widen.
“Shit! Did I just quit my job?” he yelps in a panic. He dries his hands, straightens his tie, tucks a portion of his shirt back into his pants, and hustles into the hallway toward his class. He stops in his tracks, turns to face a nearby elevator, and pushes the down arrow button. Before the elevator door opens, Geek take a quick glance down the hallway. He turns away from the elevator and takes two steps toward his classroom. There's no one else around. The silence is surreal. He looks up and notices the elevator has three more floors to go before the door opens – plenty of time to figure out his next move.
Frozen in indecision, his heart pounds; the pressure pushing up his neck, hitting his head, ramming it, as if it's about to explode gooey brain matter. His breathing is so labored, he fears he may pass out, so he takes a deep breath to calm himself. He turns away from his classroom door and walks back to the stainless steel elevator door, staring at the floor numbers as they light up – one by one. They serve as a symbol of freedom – or an avenue backward to beg Jonathan for his job back.
Ding.
Two more floors left to liberty, or the same lunacy he's lived most of his life. Feeling like a yo-yo, he thinks back to the kid in the alley again, who seemed outnumbered and over-matched, yet still won the battle. Geek turns around and takes a few steps back toward his classroom once more. He stops in his tracks again, and turns back toward the elevator door.
Ding.
One more floor to go. Make a change, or remain status quo. He's sick of living life as if his head is stuck up his ass. A calming sensation comes over him, his heart rate begins to slow. He thumbs his glasses back to the bridge of his nose, wipes sweat from his brow, and he manages a smile. He's ready now. It's time. Geek makes a tough choice and decides when the elevator door opens, he's getting in it with a new attitude – a fresh beginning. Doubt creeps in during the last few seconds before the door opens. He knows change is coming...fast.
Ding.
The elevator door opens, forcing him to take another deep breath. He steps inside and exhales. It's clear to him now. The one thing he could in his life – he just did. He wants a new start, a new adventure, a new life. He never considers going back to gather his belongings. He knows the choice he just made is more important than the stuff he left in his desk.
Yeah, he had the courage to quit his job, but more transformation is needed – the kind of psychological and emotional reconstruction that shakes a man to his core.
* * * * *
Grantham Geekenmier, pronounced gran-thumb geek-in-myer,grew up in a middle class neighborhood in Garden City, New York. He lived with his parents, Grantham Sr., and Ruth Geekenmier. His father is a conductor for the New York City Subway system. His mother works in the Garment District in Manhattan.
Grantham, born September 28th, 1992, is an only child. He always wondered why. The day after he graduated from from high school – he asked his mother. She explained she felt sorry for him, and didn't want to bring another Geekenmier into the world and go through what her only son went through during school, and in the neighborhood.
The kids in his neighborhood could never pronounce his last name, preferring to call him, “Geek.” As a kid, he got teased –a lot. His childhood resembled the aftermath of various fruits and vegetables tossed into in a blender and set to high mode.Taunts, jokes, and being flat-out disrespected became normal. He had a crush on a girl once in seventh grade – Rose Madison. He couldn't bring himself to talk to her for fear of being rejected, so he decided to keep his mouth shut. He adopted it as a general philosophy throughout high school and college.
The plan didn't work well for him though. His first name is weird enough, but his last name, well – pure horror. As a ten year-old kid, he tried his best to fit in, but that name – Geekenmier –cursed him from day one, never allowing him the opportunity to relax– EVER. He didn't want or ask for attention, and Rose Madison would never know his feelings about her. She could neverknow – too dangerous.
His best friend as a kid was his wiener dog. A great listener and loyal supporter, she died when Geek was seven. He was devastated. He lost his best friend in the whole world, his security blanket, a comforting old pal during the pain of a childhood mired in low self-esteem and insecurity.
Not one kid in school could he describe as a best friend. Other classmates with weird names had a difficult time with bullies too –but not like Geek. At school and at home, other misfits feared banding together, thinking it would draw more unwanted attention. Geek's parents tried their best to help him cope. With a last name like Geekenmier – he became a target by default.
His father was his hero.
“Dad was great,” he told his psychologist one day. “He used humor to maintain his sanity during his own childhood. He told me he stood up to bullies too. He was the only kid in school with a full-time job – fighting kids and defending himself. Now, he's too old to give a damn what people say or think,” Geek said. “Dad always told me, when people tease me, smile and let it go, because they don't know me as a person. Mom would tell me to hang in there, hoping the jokes would end once I became a man. That helped me cope,”he said. “But it still hurt.”
From elementary through high school, Geek would often come home from school with tears in his eyes. His Mom would give him a hug and prepare his favorite meal for dinner: meat loaf, mashed potatoes, and buttered green peas. He would finish it off with his favorite dessert– apple pie. His Dad said to him one day, “You gotta fight for your own peace of mind. You're a Geekenmier – life isn't gonna to be easy, but you must be tough in here,” he said, pointing to his heart, “and here,” pointing to his head.
“I'm proud of you, son. Since the day I saw your head pop out of your mother's vagi...,”
“Grantham!”Ruth yells, pointing at him. “Don't...you...say it!”
“I mean, since the day you were born, I have never been more proud of you.” Ruth walks by and smacks Grantham Sr., upside his head. “What? What did I do?”
“I know what you were about to say!” Grantham Sr. snickers and walks away. Ruth shakes her head.
* * * * *
With no job, he waits on a corner along 33rd Street, trying to flag a cab.
“Taxi!”
Waiting next to him for a taxi is an old man with a walker. A third man in a pinstripe suit, a red tie, and polished shoes, approaches them in a harried fashion. Soon, a cab pulls up to the curb. The other man, in his mid-twenties, pushes forward and tries to hop in first. Geek reaches out and grabs him by the arm, “Hey, man, let the old guy go first. He's got a walker.”
“Who gives a shit,” the man said, jerking his arm from Geek's grasp. “This is New York City dick head.”
Geek snarls and slams the cab door shut before the man gets in, blocking it with his body.
“Get outta my way, dumbass!” the man shouts. “You're the dumbass!” Geek hollers back. The old man walks behind the obnoxious man. “Please, sonny, I need this cab. I'm meeting my wife at the doctor's office and I'm already late.” Turning to the old man, the younger man leans close to his face. “Go croak somewhere you old bastard!”
Appalled by the man's disrespectful behavior, the old man tilts his walker sideways, lifts one of the legs and cracks the jerk in the nuts, dropping him to his knees. “Yeaahhh! That's what I'm talkin' 'bout, gramps!” Geek shouts, turning to give the old man a high five. Geek steps over the punk in pinstripes, who's moaning and writhing in pain on the sidewalk with both hands between his legs, and opens the door for the old guy. He folds his walker, puts it in the trunk, and jumps in the back seat. “There you go, gramps,” he said. “Sorry about all that.”
“Young man, I want to thank you. That was the most fun I've had in forty years!”
“No problem. That was awesome.”
“Indeed. I can't wait to tell Helen!”
“Where you headed?” the cab driver asks the old man. “NYU Langone Medical Center.”
When the taxi arrives at its destination, Geek pulls a fifty dollar bill from his wallet.
“Will this cover it?”
“Yes sir!” the cabby said.
“Keep the change.”
“I was gonna do that anyway, bud, thanks.”
He hops out and jogs to the other side of the cab and opens the door for the old man. He helps him out and retrieves his walker from the trunk. “Thank you, my good man. Much appreciated,” the old man said with a wink.
The hospital is not the location Geek wanted to end up, but with time on his hands, he's as free as the air. He watches the old man walk to the entrance of the hospital, making sure he doesn't encounter any more problems. Springing back into the cab, he closes the door.
“That was a nice thing you did for the old guy,” the cab driver said. Geek grins. This new attitude thing is starting to feel pretty good.
“Where can I take you, partner?”
Geek tells the driver to take him home, when he's interrupted by a knock on the back seat window. He turns his head and gazes up at an attractive woman. His jaw has no other alternative but to...drop.The woman is tall, sexy, with wavy light brown hair, impeccable natural makeup, clear lip gloss, and well dressed, including accessories. He asks the driver to roll down the electric window so he can hear what she's saying.
“Can we share this one?” the woman asks.
“Hell, yeah! Er...um...yes, of course.”
Geek springs back out of the cab and opens the door for the woman, inviting her to share the back seat with him. He becomes intoxicated from the delicious perfume she's wearing.
“Where ya headin', miss?” the cabby asks.
“Morgan Library and Museum, please.”
Hmm....a sophisticated lady, Geek thinks to himself. While darting in and out of traffic, the burly, balding driver, with a thick halo of wiry, uncombed hair crowning his cranium, turns his head back toward Geek and the woman. With one hand on the wheel, he laughs so hard his blimp of a belly bounces up and down with each guffaw at his descriptive details about a recent erotic escapade. He ends his story, and turns once more toward his two back seat passengers, all the while dodging in and around traffic like a jackrabbit running for its life to keep from being lunch for a bobcat.
“If you two want to have fun back there, I promise I won't peek,” he said. He turns the radio on to slow, romantic music. Geek turns to the woman, looks at her with lust in his eyes, smiles, and bobs his head up and down to the rhythm of the beat. The woman bursts out in laughter, snorts, and punches him in the arm. “You are sooofunny! Green one! No punch backs!”
“Huh, what?” Geek said.
“The Volkswagen bug that went by. It was a green one,” the woman said, pointing out the window. “Oh yeah, like the commercials, funny.” The cab pulls up to the library. Sheepish, the driver delivers bad news to the woman.
“Sorry, miss. The library is closed on Mondays. I forgot to tell you.”
“Do I still have to pay for the ride?” she asks.
“I got this one too,” Geek said.
“Buddy, you're either stupid, or just a nice guy. Keep this up and you'll go broke.”
Geek pays the fare and helps the woman out of the cab. “What's your plan B, since the the library is closed?” he asks. The woman looks around and down the block for a place to possibly have coffee or lunch. Geek takes a deep breath. This is his big chance. A once in a lifetime opportunity to bury his doubts and insecurities as a man –while standing next to a beautiful woman.
“I'm not quite as familiar with this block beyond the library,”the woman said. “Me neither,” he agrees. “I guess I'll flag another cab,” she said. He fidgets with his collar while he tries to muster big boy balls again, like he did when he quit his job. It's now or never.
“Wait...um...would you like to go to lunch?” he asks her.
The woman's eyes light up. Delight engulfs her gorgeous, super model-like features. “Sure! That's a great idea! Hold on a minute.”Having had the expectation she would turn him down, he's relieved. His face brims with pride at his new found confidence. The woman reaches into her designer Brichini handbag, pulls out her iPhone, and dials a number.
“Hello.” Geek hears a male voice answer her call.
“Hi, Brandon! It's Hannah. Hey, would you like to have lunch with me in about an hour? You're close by? Great! Pick me up at twelve-thirty in front of Morgan Library and Museum. Bye, honey!”
The woman hangs up and swings around to Geek – whose face is now ash white. “Thanks for the idea. You're a doll.” She hugs him and sashays her way toward a bench in front of the library, where she sits down to wait for her friend. Geek is shocked, humiliated, embarrassed, and frozen in indecision. He gathers enough strength and jaywalks across the busy New York City street, amid blowing horns, angry hand gestures and screeching tires. Safely across, he stops to reflect upon what just happened.
Once again, for strength, he calls upon the image of the kid in the alley, realizing the events of the day and the choices he made are something to be proud of. His thoughts prompt unexpected, resounding laughter as he walks down a busy sidewalk. Others pass him by, unfazed. This is, after all, New York City. His self-amusement complete, Geek stops and tugs on the belt of his tan khakis, pulling up his pants – and his confidence. He takes a few esteem building sniffs at the wind, and continues his stroll. No one said this transformation was going to be easy or happen overnight. It's a process.
“Taxi!”
The same cabby he had earlier pulls up. The driver rolls down the window to talk to Geek again.
“How'd things go with that cutie pie?”
“YOU have gotten more ass in the past year than I have in my entire life!”
The plump cab driver sits at his steering wheel and stares straight ahead while thinking. He turns to Geek and looks him over. Still standing at the curb, Geek waits for a sign of encouragement. He could use it right about now.
“Yep. I GUARANTEE you I have, bud!” the cabby said.
“Wonderful.”
“Now, where can I take you...virgin man?” Dejected, Geek ignores the teasing. “I just want to go home.”
* * * * *
Too tired to jump in the shower, he collapses in his desk chair, deep in thought. With his feet propped up on the ottoman, he dozes off. He dreams of a frightening flashback in middle school, being teased and laughed at by Rose Madison. The image jolts him upright in his chair. Feeling sorry for himself again, he reaches over to a side table and grabs one of his self-help books to kill time, but he's interrupted. A sales associate from the local book store is calling.
“Hello, is this...” the clerk snickers, “Mr. Geekenmier?”
“This is me.”
“Hi, sir, hee, hee, hee, I wanted you to know the title you back ordered, Value Self ~Value Life, is in. Do you still want it?”she asks. “Yeah, um..., yes, I do,” he tells her, as he stands up from his chair, but freezes in his stance, half bent over, grunting in pain.
“Hello, sir, are you all right?”
“Owww...”Geek moans in agony. “Mr. Geekenmier, ha, ha, ha, should I hang up and call for help, sir?”
“No thank you. I believe I'll be fine.”
“What happened, sir?” she asks. “I fell asleep in my chair for awhile,”he explains, reaching back and grabbing his rear end. “I think I sprained my buttocks!”
“Well, sounds like a personal problem to me, sir. I'll hold the book here, and you can pick it up after you, um, work the kinks out,” the sales associate said laughing.
“Yes, well, thank you. I'll be there later this afternoon.”
“We close at five,” she informs him. “Okay, well, it's four o'clock. I gotta stop by the mall and pick up a few things anyway, so I'll stop by afterward.” She tells him there's no way he can make a trip to the mall, then drive to the book store in New York City traffic in one hour.
“Whatever...crap...my buttocks!”
He hangs up and limps into the living room. The phone rings again.
“Hello?”
“Is this Grantham Geekenmier?”
“Yep, who's this? I told the lady I would stop by the book store later.”
“This isn't the book store, pervert!”
“What! Who is this?”
“FREAK!”Click.
Geek stares into a voiceless phone. He wants to give the caller a piece of his mind. With so much to say, but no one to hear it, he lowers his sore butt back in his chair. He decides he wantsrevenge. The phone still in his hand, he dials a random number and listens for an answer.
“Hellooo.” Thewispy, sweet voice of an old woman is on the other end.
Just his luck he’d get a little old lady. Why couldn’t he have dialed a truck driver, a construction worker...or a stripper? Too late now. He's going to give the old girl a piece of his mind after suffering through a long day.
“Everybody’s a douche bag! You can all suck monkey nuts!You got that, old woman!”
There's no immediate response.
Geek pulls the phone from his ear and glances at it to see what number he dialed. The display reads: Milton Nursing Home. He puts the phone back to his ear, hoping granny hung up. He hears heavy breathing.
“Hello?” he said.
In a delicate, soft-spoken tone, the old lady responds before hanging up.
“My VAGINA.”
That figures.