Plate O Shrimp, reboot

[loCAtek]

Plate O Shrimp



Some of you have already recognized the thread title as one the greatest Zen dissertations on human kind;





Miller: "A lot o' people don't realize what's really going on. They view life as
a bunch o' unconnected incidents 'n things. They don't realize that there's
this, like, lattice o' coincidence that lays on top o' everything. Give you an
example, show you what I mean: suppose you're thinkin' about a plate o' shrimp.
Suddenly someone'll say, like, "plate," or "shrimp," or "plate o' shrimp" out of
the blue, no explanation. No point in lookin' for one, either. It's all part of
a cosmic unconsciousness."



Earlier today I had my own ‘plate-O-shrimp’ while at Work Furlough, I had crowded onto a mixed bus of men & women, and sat in the back with a couple who seemed to have just met, but were totally hitting it off. I’d tried joining their conversation a few times but was politely ignored, so I just eavesdropped on what they (well, mostly He) were talking about. He was pretty interesting to tell the truth, there was this act-and-sound-like ‘Brian Posehn’ quality to him, while he told his tales of being an alcoholic employee at Beverages and more! (the largest liquor store in the free world) –so, his being on a road-side clean-up crew for a DUI wasn’t really surprising, just very much in character!

But enough about him, let’s talk about me; my evening before had been so boring I’d been reduced to watching one of the video cassette tapes my neighbor Brandine Spuckler (not her real name, google it) leaves in my mailbox. You remember video cassettes? They play in a VCR -remember those? I’m so lo-tek, I still use one, without once in my life ever getting the time set right on it. Brandine is in the process of replacing all of her movie collection of tapes to DVD's; so I’m getting her cast-off cassettes bit by bit.Just wish she had better taste.See the poor ol’girl watches WWF, so you can imagine the kind of crap I get on celluloid; ‘Borderline’ and ‘On Deadly Ground’, for example. Mostly mindless, shirtless, action for action’s sake… OMG, there was a Ninja Turtle movie thrown in there. Granted, it’s not all trash just most of it is; I think the good movies are in there just by accident. Which is how I wound up watching ‘No Escape’ last night –not great, but half-way decent dialogue and acting. Not exactly something you’d queue up on Netflix but it relieved my boredom for 118 minutes, anywayZ.

So, what should happen today on the short-bus express between litter clean-up sites? The cute couple are lamenting their ‘incarceration’ in Work Furlough for the day (which technically it is, howZ that for a Civil Rights Violation?) when the Chick seZ, you know my brother told me they’re going to turn Alcatraz into a free-reign prison island?

"You mean like ‘No Escape?’" pseudo-Brian replies nerdily.

"What?" She wittily retorts.

“'No Escape’" explains pseudo-Brian, "That movie with Ray Liotta about prisoners in the future taking over an island.”

“Didn’t Nickolaus Cage do the Alcatraz Island movie?”

“No, that was the other Alcatraz movie called ‘The Rock’. There was also a Clint Eastwood film called ‘Escape from Alcatraz’ …but the one with prisoners running wild was ‘No Escape’."Etc.…

by now my ears are burning. Nobody watches SciFi, B-movies willingly and lives to tell about it! Yet here was already a close encounter with another 90’s Hollywierd survivor haunting me.

How the hell did he know about my Plate of Shrimp!? I’m not unconscious, just a bit dazed!

[loCAtek]

Plate O Shrimp II



OK, I lied.




I didn’t watch the video, ‘No Escape’ the day before my work furlough. I tried to watch it but fell asleep about half way through. I’ve been trying to watch it for days now; even taking breaks by watching other movies, then popping the tape into the VCR only to fall asleep before the movie ends again.

Why do I do this to myself, why!?

The Ninja Turtle movie I could turn off; take out of the machine and self-satisfactorily stomp on; then toss in the recycling. This rotten tomato I keep using as a sleep aide, I guess. So, I’ll not be watching it for a few days now, as I’m trying to stay wake.

Wiiiiiide awake. For about… …48 hours.
Chica’s gotta do, what a chica’s gotta do to pay the bills. ...and I gotta work on the Chain Gang (work furlough) during the day and pull a full night shift at the Depot for Monday AND Tuesday. 48 hours (count ‘em! 1, 2, 3, …4-T-8 hours!) …of pure, caffeinated, purgatory.

If I’m not dead by Wednesday, then I’ll be Undead and doin’ the Zombie Shuffle™. ♪hey-hey-hey!♫
Just in time for the Spooky Season, Woo-Hoo!
I’ll be needin’ “BrainZzzzzzz! BrainZzzzzz!” …by then, so just save me some full frontal cortex in the fridge, ‘kay?

Thx!

Loca

P.S. No, haven’t started the blog yet, get off me! I may live to tell the tale in time…

P.S.S. Monday day, napped as much as I could but the real test will be Tuesday morning. Furlough was easier today, my regular ‘yard boss’ Al (real name, you’ll never find him so, I don’t care to say it.) is a pretty cool cat. First day, he didn’t narc on the deaf guy, who really shouldn’t be on a road crew if he can’t hear oncoming traffic. Al just told the rest of us to watch out for him, and hollah loudly or poke him if there’s something coming his way.

Also, ‘Juanita’ is allowed to ride with the lady's bus. We’re supposed to be split into two vans now; each of them pulling a port-a-potty and a tool trailer; one of men only and one of women only. I’d been chatting with Juanita during the day, because she seemed like a nice ol’lady, when I was taken aside and surreptitiously informed that ‘she’ shouldn’t really be riding with us. Juanita wore make-up and styled ‘her’ hair, but her file indicated ‘she’ was a dude.
OK, whatever. Al knew, and if he didn’t care, I didn’t care. We all could pick up trash, that’s all that mattered to him.

It’s funny, he’s got such street cred, but he’s so polite and professional too. He’ll tell ya, “Hey! Get that shit on the fuckin’ truck ...please.”
Kinda reminds ya of Pops on American Chopper: a hardass with heart, ya know what I mean? They even have the same mutton chops, LOL.

Today wasn’t even as hot- cooled down to 80 degrees, and when at the end of the day the bay breezes dropped the temp to 74, we-wrong coasters, all pulled on our sweaters to fight off the chill.

Off to night-owl the graveyard shift,

L8rs Loca!

P.S.S.S. Day Tuesday, I live.
Staying up all night was the hardest part (I’ll skip the store inventory- it was boring, meh); years of military sleep deprivation have taught me that once the sun rises your circadian rhythms tell you it’s OK to be awake …although it’s been 24 hours of wakefullyness now.
OK, I lied again.
I’ve been getting naps throughout the day in the van, on the drives between clean-up stops. One power-nap was a whole 45 minutes long! The work we’ve been assigned today has kept my blood circulating too; lots of good physical labor of weeding and raking. That and getting shot at.
No really, my crew got shot at.
We did! I wasn’t hallucinating, honest!Well, not us exactly they just shot out the van window, no, no one was in it, but Al did have to call the cops.

Okay-okay, don’t freak out; here’s what happened: We were at this landscaping stop where we had all gotten out to spread mulch next to an expressway on ramp. This was hilly San Ho territory so the retaining wall didn’t block the line of sight of the second-story low income apartments next to that road way. My crew was all over a mound of groundcover like ants in orange vests slaving over sugar, when some bored kid with an air pistol, or a BB gun, (dunno which) decides to play, ‘Stir up the anthill’. Nobody even heard a retort, just a few folks detected the sound of glass breaking and noticed the passenger side van window a few yards away was now cracked around a new pellet hole in the corner.

“You heard that!?”

“What is it!?”

“Someone’s shooting at us!!!”

This wasn’t like real gunfire, so we calmly panicked and nonchalantly went for cover. Of course, the deaf guy kept working until he noticed everybody was walking for the trees or going behind the brick retaining wall. “Oh shit,” commented Al lazily, “I better call this in.” …and the deaf guy was yanked to safety.
It was the Manager on Duty, Micheal I think, who off-handedly suggested he call 911. Probably their insurance company requires a police report to cover damages from sniper attacks. We, the Incarcerated Crew, moved to cover in the shade to wait out the arrival of the police and the subsequent paperwork that would be necessary to fill out before we could be on our way. A few folks expressed their disapproval of this inconvenience; they wanted to home in time for the Sharks' game, but it had to be done. Procedure, ya know. Alright, I made that last part up- the Sharks aren’t playing tonight, but the rest really happened that way. You can’t make this shit up! And, I’ll have you know this is the first time I’ve actually been shot at, outside of training simulations, in RL.. Not bad, but not that exciting for my virgin sniping really.

At least, in training you can shoot back, but I appreciate your being a part O that, AnywayZ!

[loCAtek]

Mai Lin’s # 6 Plate O Shrimp with doggie bag.



This one is really long; you gotta minute, or what?



Incarceration is what it is …or was. See: I’ve fulfilled by obligation to the county, my work furlough days are done- my ticket punched, my time served. I’ve paid my debt to society- little social miscreant that I am, and can still reintegrate into the law-abiding community, hopefully reformed of my criminal tendencies. Yea, that’s us, we're so anti-social elements.

‘Participants’ to the program; that’s what Al seZ they call us- ‘participants’, like we’re on a game show or something.

“Thanks for playing! Tell the participants what they’ve won, Johnny!”

“It’s a brand new CARceration! [Ooo!] …with two years worth of probation!”

<applause-applause>

“Now, do you want to take that with a version of the Home Game and a life-time’s supply of Rice A Roni™ the San Francisco treat; or do you want to hire a lawyer and spin the Big Wheel!?”

“Spin. the. Wheel! Spin. the. Wheel!”


*click* …lemme tell you- never spin the Big Wheel, never.
Relying on luck; your own word or being very, very sorry, doesn’t do ya a damn bit of good in a court of law. The system wants just the facts, ma’am …and no matter how good a Samaritan you were two seconds before the collision, or the check point; you’re going downtown to talk to the judge for crimes and misdemeanors. If you can’t pay the fine, you do the time.

Mai Lin and I were the ones the folks turned to and said, ‘What are you doing here?’ She was a very conscientious Vietnamese lady, who came with her own little sun hat and gardening gloves; cleaning out the van of bottles and wrappers each morning, unasked.
She’ll be doing that, for what? Thirty more days, I think?

That’s the thing- most folks on Work Furlough are first time offenders, generally. We fucked up so we’ll do our duty and be done with it, we don’t wanna cause trouble no more. Coping a ‘tude doesn’t do you a damn bit o good, anywayZ. Al may be big-hearted but he doesn’t put up with shit either. He’ll tell the crew that every morning for the benefit of the new participants:
“Give me your court papers and ID.
…OK, keep this with you at ALL TIMES, cause you are INCARCERATED. You know what that means? You’re in jail! This is NOT community service. From now on, until your program is completed; You. Are. In. Jail. If you go out and get busted this weekend, show the cops this paper, cause if you don’t show up here for any reason then a warrant goes out for your arrest. You got that? You speak English? Comprendes? Jail!”

We have to be on time and go when and where he seZ go. We can’t bring a cell phone, or even a book (that one bugged me). There are no visitors, nor unscheduled stops sans emergencies. The roads department owns you for the day; like it or lump it! …kinda like the military, as a matter a fact. Oh yea, and No Smoking; not even if you find a cig on the side of the road- Welcome to the Chain Gang, we hope you enjoy your stay.

He’s got to go on and explain that if he lets a sick participant sit in the van; that’s up to him, but that’s not favoritism; that’s just looking out for you guys. He can decide if you’re following the program, or if you have to be ‘sent back’, meaning to court, where they’ll make you serve time behind bars instead. Sounds funny but some people prefer that. We had a white chick on the first week, who couldn’t take the heat and hard labor, and just put her head in her hands and kept murmuring, ‘Next time, I’m just going to jail…. Next time, I’m just going to jail…’ She got to sit in the van most of the time actually, but at least she showed up, ‘eh?
While the paperwork had said ‘dress for hard work and bring a lunch, food will not be provided’ some (young) folks still didn’t get the hint. So saying, I figured there’d be one or two like that. The first day my backpack held enough stuff for a wilderness excursion, and yes, I wound up sharing my single-sized pizza packs and baby carrots with a gal with a DUI, who’d face-planted an air-bag when the vehicle she was driving impacted a concrete underpass column at 90mph, but still didn’t think she’d have to be responsible for herself. She kept complaining that she thought we could just stop at a liquor store, couldn’t we?
No babe, eat your Lunchables, ’kay?

…You can set up your work program schedule around your job … if you have one, that is. This is California after all, home of 12+ percent unemployment; folks have time for furlough, ya know? Some folks request weekends or weekdays; or say- give me the days continuously, I just wanna get it outta the way. I’d requested Monday and Tuesday furlough since I had a job- lucky me.Mai Lin was there every day, as she had a lot of time to serve and no job. (don’t worry she has a husband supporting her) As the title suggests, the following is an account of what happened on one of her road trips. I wasn’t there, but I’ve been hearing all about it so it’s corroborated by multiple witnesses as well as her own testimony. (What? You’re thinkin’, what could be worse than bein’ shot at? It’s not worse, it’s better- chill-ax dude and read on, I’m trying to end this story on a good note) This was last Friday or so, when the weather was a bit warmer. Public works makes you clean up every friggin’ road no matter where it is on the map, if it’s within city limits- you’re driving out there. Actually, sometimes that’s not so bad because if you’re on a longer drive then you get to sit in the AC for longer too. Al also likes to bend the rule about the radio, we’re not supposed to be listening to; and thank dog he’s got good taste in music –mostly we listened to classic R & B. (Between you and me, I think he takes the longest, slowest routes possible to job sites and back, just so we-all could ride in the van more on those hot days. I mean, I know my way around the place, and I recall thinkin’, hey we could have been there by now if we’d just taken the freeway… but I was smart enough to keep my mouth shut.)

San Felipe Rd. is like; no man’s land- there is nothing out there. No really, I mean it, there’s literally nothing out there but dry grass, hills and sun. You know those outskirts of town that no one knows or cares is part of the jurisdiction? That’s San Felipe Rd. Public works has to take care of it but they don’t care so much as to send their paid professionals. They just send out the city slave labor provided in the form of the work furlough participants.
So, the crew’s been working out in the dust and heat for a coupla hours when Al declares the job done, and sends everyone back to the van. Maybe, they were all too tired, or maybe the sound was too faint, but Mai Lin was alert enough to hear it- a very weak ‘bark’ from the ravine by the side of the road. This was very strange, what would a dog be doing way out here? This was so puzzling, she left the road and looked down in the ditch for the source of the bark.
There was the reason the bark was so faint, it was just a tiny dachshund puppy; as one guy put it- the scrawniest thing you’d ever seen, just skin and bones. He had been abandoned for so long, the poor thing was barely alive, which was a better state than his two brothers with him; sadly they had already perished.

This was too much, Mai Lin had to act, so she quickly called the group over and begged their help in retrieving the puppy-dog. The harshest, foulest pits of Hell are reserved for those rotten S.O.B.'s mean enough to dump puppies, but Al tried his best to be as big an asshole and said, “No! we can’t take him with us! We gotta leave’em!”

…which broke Mai Lin’s heart and she burst into tears.

…which galvanized the guys, of course and they charged down the ravine to rescue the puppy. Al had a mutiny on his hands, but he took it well. Forming a circle, so the fearful pup didn’t run off turned out to be pretty tricky, since one side of the ravine was lined with barbed wire, but the guys bravely jumped it and converged on the scared critter. Soon caught, the puppy (henceforth who shall be known as ‘Shrimp’) was immediately placed in Mai Lin’s arms, where he stayed for the remainder of the trip. Shrimp was given water, and a little bit to eat, but not much, they knew he shouldn’t have too much in his condition. I told ya Al took it well? He obliged by radioing in for the location of the nearest animal shelter, and the next stop the Work Furlough Program van made was at the SPCA (Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals) Mai Lin finally let little Shrimp go then. If she hadn’t found him, his life expectancy probably would have only been hours, as Mai Lin had noticed as she held him that poor Shrimp had a ‘smell of death’ about him. Now, hopefully with good medical care, Shrimp has a chance at a normal, healthy life. Even if the poor pup doesn't make it at least his last moments were with someone who loved him.



The End.


Epilogue:You’re probably wondering what a nice lady like Mai Lin is doing on a Chain Gang like this in the first place? We’re all thieves, rogues and social miscreants, remember? …and no matter what Mai Lin’s lawyer tried in her defense when she tried Spinning the Big Wheel, he could only lighten her sentence to an extended Work Furlough program.
See: she nearly killed somebody. Not really, but it was a Hit-N-Run. She’d accidently backed into a pedestrian, and when she pulled forward two spaces (she says) to get her car out of the way, the witness for the prosecution said she was attempting to flee the scene. All Mai Lin had in her favor was nothing in her prior record.

"…but thanks for being a participant! We’ll see ya next time! Bye everybody!"

[Lord Jim]

LoCa, I'm assuming that you had saved this essay on your computer...

Or have you have found some secret way to access the archives of the CSB?

[loCAtek]

Bwa-ha-ha, I will neither confirm, nor deny your accusations

...no, I lied. I can confirm, that I was a clever little Loca to save this story in a safe place; somehow I knew later, it would come to my defence against defamation.

Procesution, your witness.

[dales]

Here's some archives from the CSB (alas NO topic replies).

http://web.archive.org/web/201010180357 ... ?board=3.0

And lo, if you're ever able to somehow access the CSB files, imagine the fun and hilarity that would ensue.