Bill Braggs crumpled up the morning newspaper, spilled his coffee, and knocked his spoon off the café counter in one fluid motion. The coffee pooled and the spoon skidded across the floor. To the casual observer this all appears to have happened ‘accidentally.’ Not so; for Bill had little to no idea why he does what it is he does most of the time. It has occurred before, these random acts of klutziness; that is a good way to describe him: klutzy, but it has saved him more than once.
Just last night as he was crossing Jackson near Union Station, he tripped on apparently nothing, which sped him forward a couple of fast steps. He then tripped on the curb and flung himself out and rolled to a stop ten feet down the way. Everyone assumed that he had reacted to the taxicab swinging quickly around a red light, which jumped the curb and missed him by mere inches. Truth be told, he had no idea what was going on, completely oblivious. It was a lucky break or fall, so to say.
Back to the diner that Bill was eating at, in his swank blue work suit that he only wore for special occasions such as job interviews, upon closer inspection pure dumb luck again ‘appears’ to have been the culprit.
As Bill began to fold his paper back together, a waitress with a large platter balanced above her head, caused a man to sidestep; and upon a dry floor he slipped. Bumping into the back of Bill’s stool caused him to throw up his hands. This crumpled the newspaper, spilt the coffee, and sent the spoon flying. Now, why?
A man and a woman sat in the booth, off to the far right corner, near the back by the bathrooms. The man had already visited the facilities twice. Both on one side of the seating, they whispered quite annoyingly at each other. They wore blue jeans and t-shirts; the man’s shirt read, ‘Employees are People too!’ and the woman’s read, ‘I’m with Stupid.” An arrow pointed to the left, right at the man. They both had black, slicked back hair. And, while you could tell that she had brown on brown eyes, the man wore his dark ray bans.
Every time the waitress came they shut up and glared till she filled their coffee cups and left. Neither had a word of thanks.
On further inspection of these two ‘klutzy’ events of one Bill Braggs, you’ll notice these misfits were around. They stood kitty-corner to the taxi incident; and if we dove further back to the numerous other lucky breaks for Bill, then we’d find these two.
Why would they dump the coffee, skid the spoon, and crumple a perfectly good newspaper?
“I told you, Clyde, that this was a ‘safe’ day. No interfering is needed.”
“That waitress, though, something’s up. I mean have you tasted the coffee; better for Billy if he doesn’t drink any of this swill. Could be poison?”
“You’re hopeless,” she said.
“You’ve been saying that for centuries,” Clyde remarked.
She gave him a look that said, ‘Exactly my point dimwit!’ Instead she said, “Besides he’s due to get a call in twenty minutes and we’ll be whisked away on some ‘emergency’ of his. Somewhere, mind you, which they cannot be. Hence the fact, Bill will need no luck today.”
“Annie saw that in his future, but what does it mean? It could mean we need to be extra cautious. We have no idea exactly how this comes about.”
“Annie has never been wrong before, keep to the schedule.” She scanned the diner, and then back at Clyde, who was pouring the coffee in a dish to the side. He was treating it to close scrutinazation. “Besides, Annie’s a good egg. Now, I’m gonna get a paper, and if you behave yourself while I’m gone you can read the funnies.”
“Alright.” He continued to mix the coffee in the dish, now he added some white powder from a baggy he had taken from his front pocket.
“Stop playing around.”
He stopped and looked up.
“Drink your coffee.”
“Alright.” He poured what was in the dish back into the cup.
“And let Billy drink his. He’s gonna need it, no matter how lousy it is.”
originally written 7/15/2004 11:15am – 11:45am
Just last night as he was crossing Jackson near Union Station, he tripped on apparently nothing, which sped him forward a couple of fast steps. He then tripped on the curb and flung himself out and rolled to a stop ten feet down the way. Everyone assumed that he had reacted to the taxicab swinging quickly around a red light, which jumped the curb and missed him by mere inches. Truth be told, he had no idea what was going on, completely oblivious. It was a lucky break or fall, so to say.
Back to the diner that Bill was eating at, in his swank blue work suit that he only wore for special occasions such as job interviews, upon closer inspection pure dumb luck again ‘appears’ to have been the culprit.
As Bill began to fold his paper back together, a waitress with a large platter balanced above her head, caused a man to sidestep; and upon a dry floor he slipped. Bumping into the back of Bill’s stool caused him to throw up his hands. This crumpled the newspaper, spilt the coffee, and sent the spoon flying. Now, why?
A man and a woman sat in the booth, off to the far right corner, near the back by the bathrooms. The man had already visited the facilities twice. Both on one side of the seating, they whispered quite annoyingly at each other. They wore blue jeans and t-shirts; the man’s shirt read, ‘Employees are People too!’ and the woman’s read, ‘I’m with Stupid.” An arrow pointed to the left, right at the man. They both had black, slicked back hair. And, while you could tell that she had brown on brown eyes, the man wore his dark ray bans.
Every time the waitress came they shut up and glared till she filled their coffee cups and left. Neither had a word of thanks.
On further inspection of these two ‘klutzy’ events of one Bill Braggs, you’ll notice these misfits were around. They stood kitty-corner to the taxi incident; and if we dove further back to the numerous other lucky breaks for Bill, then we’d find these two.
Why would they dump the coffee, skid the spoon, and crumple a perfectly good newspaper?
“I told you, Clyde, that this was a ‘safe’ day. No interfering is needed.”
“That waitress, though, something’s up. I mean have you tasted the coffee; better for Billy if he doesn’t drink any of this swill. Could be poison?”
“You’re hopeless,” she said.
“You’ve been saying that for centuries,” Clyde remarked.
She gave him a look that said, ‘Exactly my point dimwit!’ Instead she said, “Besides he’s due to get a call in twenty minutes and we’ll be whisked away on some ‘emergency’ of his. Somewhere, mind you, which they cannot be. Hence the fact, Bill will need no luck today.”
“Annie saw that in his future, but what does it mean? It could mean we need to be extra cautious. We have no idea exactly how this comes about.”
“Annie has never been wrong before, keep to the schedule.” She scanned the diner, and then back at Clyde, who was pouring the coffee in a dish to the side. He was treating it to close scrutinazation. “Besides, Annie’s a good egg. Now, I’m gonna get a paper, and if you behave yourself while I’m gone you can read the funnies.”
“Alright.” He continued to mix the coffee in the dish, now he added some white powder from a baggy he had taken from his front pocket.
“Stop playing around.”
He stopped and looked up.
“Drink your coffee.”
“Alright.” He poured what was in the dish back into the cup.
“And let Billy drink his. He’s gonna need it, no matter how lousy it is.”
originally written 7/15/2004 11:15am – 11:45am
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