Postel Service (427 hits)
Category: GeneralRating: -1 on 2 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by <RCChristi.at.msn.com> (View user info) at 2004-11-08 22:17:40 EST
This article, titled Postel Service, will not be as memorable as
the one entitled Frank Sinatra Has A Cold which appeared in the May,
1956 edition of Life magazine that I could not find while thumbing
through such old 'zines at the Kane County Fair last December.
But Joe Postel has been chauffering Steve and Laura around since
Halloween, when he drove the three of us to Curley's party in Printer's
Row, a party which Joe did not attend.
Joe drove Steve and Laura to Beloit, Wisconsin last weekend because
Steve and Laura wanted to look at farm houses. They all had to stay
overnight in a motel in Rockford. Joe paid all his own expenses for
gas, food and lodging because Steve and Laura didn't offer to cover
him, and Joe wouldn't ask them for money.
Steve and Laura figure that since Joe has an interest in their farm
purchase by expressing a desire to live with them, that
they don't have to pay Joe for any travelling expenses. This is their
rationalization. But they are taking advantage of him.
See, Joe drove me home from the pool hall/bowling alley tonight, and
told me these things. He says he's getting tired of them.
Steve, Laura and I had hailed a cab on Howard Street and taken it to
Gulliver's, where we met Gil, Ann and Joe earlier this evening. Steve
had decided, as we were stepping out of the cab, that the three of us
would collaborate on some story that we had walked all the way to the
restaurant. Steve wanted to help pad our tardiness at arriving at
Gulliver's since we all had putzed around for a long time at his apart-
ment. Laura, having grown accustomed to Joe's Postel Service, almost
didn't want to make the effort to go the Gulliver's because we'd have
to get there on our own.
At our table at Gulliver's, the environment of which was filled with
Elton John's Don't Shoot Me and Yellowbrick Road music, Gil passed
around a picture of his sister. Laura made a caustic remark that Joe
later commented on to me as he drove me home.
Laura had said that no girl was acceptable to Joe's standards, and
that she couldn't imagine Joe with a girl. Joe told me that Laura had
a lot of nerve. "Was she implying that I'm a faggot, or what?" he said
to me. He was upset.
Joe was also pissed at Steve, because Steve and he were in the middle
of a pool game when Steve got bored and walked away to play video games.
Then, after Steve had had his fill of video games he formed a 'couples'
quartet at a table. So Steve, Laura, Ann and Gil played at a table,
leaving Joe and I on our own.
Joe stopped for gas on Sheridan up North and was looking for a squeegie
to facilitate the cleaning of his dirty windshield of his dirty old little
car. He had to get it from the PH.d Arabs working inside. "I'm surprised
I don't have to go inside for the water too," he exclaimed as he swathed
the windshield. A transvestite exited from the store as we were about to
wrap things up and head out. She looked like a female except for her rear
end and legs. She was dressed in whore's clothing, colored black. "Is
that a man or a woman?" I asked. She was standing in front of the store,
at a bus stop. She was waiting with (not that they were together) a big
fat redneck guy with his hair in a ponytail. This guy had walked up to
the store just as Joe and I had pulled in and gotten out of the car to get
gas. "Oh God, please don't let this guy rob this place right now with me
and Joe here," I prayed as Joe listened and sort of chuckled.
Our team lost 20-1 today at Mather Park. Hey, we were short one player,
namely Skip Roe, our center fielder. At least other absentees had phoned
Steve, our captain, to say they wouldn't make it. Guys like Bart and Larry.
Peter W. failed to notify Steve, too. And Peter seeks help in his big move
next weekend. The available team members made catty references to their
potential availability on that day.
So we only had three outfielders including myself. I had a single and
was called out on strikes.
When I got home, I watched a movie Leanne had rented called Hiding Out.
I was sans keys since I had mindlessly left them in Haztos' gym bag at
Mather Park. I wasn't worried too much about their safekeeping. Haztos
is responsible and never misses a softball game. I told Leanne the story
of the day concerning Joe and his chauffering service. Leanne decided we
would invite him to our place for dinner one night.
User Reviews
Submitted by Electro (user info) at 2004-11-09 00:52:34 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
sign my goddamn petition!
Submitted by kai070169 (user info) at 2004-11-09 00:49:43 EST (#)
Ranking: -2
Since no one else wants to do it, allow me;
-2 DIE