The Sarcastic Cynic™

This story begins in JHS 189, Daniel Carter Beard or D Beard Carter, I don’t remember the correct combination where Laurie Small was the1st seat French Horn player and I was 2nd Horn player. She begged me to stay, but I was tired of carrying that bulky case everywhere. Mr. Shankman our beloved Music Teacher finally relented. I became the 1st seat 1st Trumpet with J.T. as the 1st seat , 2nd seat.

I remember talking to Mr. Jonas Trumpeter about how life was so much better for us in the United States of America. How we took for granted our way of live and liberty.

I thought he was my brother but instead Jimmy the Flower became a Rat.

He announced loudly as I drove my brother that he was here to see M. die. That he was not going to help any cats. That he was here to see her die, that he was not returning home in Forest Hills, NY to work for his BOSS at the flower shop this time for Valentines Day. The first time in 100 years he was not going to get a bonus for doing such great work at the Flower shop in the Bronx, to an apartment with a man named Steve who owns a Big Dog named Bruno. The name has been changed to protect the identity of dog. May he rest in peace.

His boss, a man who will also not be named, became the care giver of Bruno. Jimmy aka Mr. Manos, who one day I found it rather odd hearing him use this appellation of self-importance.

This is where the idyllic story of us three living in an apartment at 7261 113th Street begins. But NO! That is not the beginning. It rather begins at 10610 Metropolitan Ave. also in Forest Hills, NY. Where some scenes for many movies and TV Shows have taken place.

And yet, this story really begins on Barclay Avenue, in Flushing, New York. Too bad I listened to M. She convinced me to get rid of this apartment. That parking was horrible.

I should have kept the lease. My sisters had convinced my mother to go to Texas.

Instead of leaving Flushing, I ended up in Long Island City. Married to a Colombian family from Cali, Colombia.

Where and when this Rat finally pops out of a sewer, is when Pan American World Airways finally gives up the ghost in 1991.

I was working with Aeroflot and the other carriers that Delta had acquired from Pan Am and of course with all of the Delta gates at the World Port. Including Mr. Ruano who I once stepped out of a plane in Fort Myers and turned around to hug him. His voice to this day resonates in me. May he R.I.P.

This rat arrived at the Cashier’s Desk with a distinguished gentleman by his side. The Rat had hired him to scare md into giving him the money that Delta owns. Go ahead and shoot I told the rat and his accomplice. The rat is having trouble opening the door right now. Too bad.

Hi Honey, Oh Boy, it is brutal out there. The Rat complains. It is 87 degrees Fahrenheit. In other words it is a Sunny day in Tarpon Springs, Florida.

The second time the RAT made an appearance was in LIC. They had hired a detective to follow me home. I made it easy. I left like a bat out of hell in a bus that drove at 40 mph. We all boarded and left work to go to another hotel to have fun with the other colleagues from other airlines. I exaggerate here. I drove a white car to a garage that had a Mercedes Benz waiting in an open lot next to the indoor garage. Bingo, they had me.

A friend who will remain anonymous warned me about this couple. Something like an expression they like to have all and eat cake. Someone who knows that expression can enter it here. It is not let them eat cake. That had something to do with the French Revolution, and my History Honors teacher does remember my style of writing.

The rat runs to the “Faggots” I rang your bell five times, and you did not answer. Jeremy/Brad ” Oh it does not work!” I saw the interchange between a gay man / autistic gay man and a rat. The rat ran to Mother Lois.

They mail finally arrives. I wait to ask the postman if I should have my mail held at the Post Office. It’s his first route today. Keith is on a break? I wonder.

The Rat runs over to see all the mail. We go inside and divide the mail. I get to keep the change and a bandana for Honey.

Somehow, I fall in love with a woman no one in the family thinks is good for me. We go to Orlando on the first trip, To the French, Dutch island, to Germany, to Spain, to Portugal, to Colombia, to a place I didn’t know, when they say snow flurries, it means you will have a foot of snow on the roof of the car.

We continue on towards Buffalo. Can’t see anything. Pan Am has stopped operating out of everywhere. Niagara from the American side is just noise and I want to see more from the Canadian side. I couldn’t see much, but the noise was horrendous. We see the falls from the inside of a tunnel. It’s time to go back to the United States of America. I get in the car; the agent asks me how long you have been in Canada? I look at my wristwatch, about five minutes. We get split up. I sit with the car as they begin to take apart piece by piece. I exaggerate. Our stories are not different at all. They smile and we return to the hotel in a city, where if they ever tell you might have flurries, don’t believe them. It’s lake effect snow!

Somehow the couple have found out that I will marry this Colombian woman who will remain anonymous. Rejection is not a quality M. has. If you tell her so and so think this of you. She will befriend that person till she finds the truth. Pan Am has cease operations, but we continue to fly until the last plane will take off Kennedy Airport about a month late. We go to Germany to see her Army buddies, buy gas, etc. and go to see the Colombian Consulate General. She can tell the child is not mine. We get on a PanAm jet from Frankfurt to JFK.

We hear a horrendous noise from the left wing, my soon to be bride is whiter than white. I start the play by play. I know we are not climbing anymore, that we are starting to circle the Black Forest, that soon we are going to be dumping fuel from the wing tips. I’m fascinated by this. Finally, the co-pilot or Captain speaks. He explains everything I have just told L. I’m expecting and entourage of fire trucks a welcoming band, the works for us.

Nothing! I’m so disappointed. It’s a 747. We are parked in Tin Buck Two, Siberia, Montevideo. We sit there waiting for buses to bring us to the terminal. We run into employees of Pan American World Airways. Hector, Lucy you have to go back to JFK.

Delta is hiring you. WE DECIDE TO STAY IN GERMANY FOR AN EXTRA DAY.

The next time the RAT strikes is in Florida. Again, it’s an attack from the back or was it the long palm leaves that scratches my eyeball. M. sends me with the RAT for an exam, and I receive new reading glasses.

The next time the RAT strikes is when he steals a form M. had filed with the nurse and notarized.

I set this in motion by telling the RAT I had lost the POWER OF ATTORNEY. He calls his so-called uncle.

I sit the RAT and M. down for a talk about M’s wishes. He screws one answer. We do it again and he’s satisfied.

M. wants last rites. Why last Unction? She’s still talking and joking about about dying. Mr. Manos greets F. Sojoun. Gives him a handshake, like he does waiters in restaurants. I introduce myself as a very good friend. I leave the room to continue what I was not doing. Living my life to the fullest. I hear noises as they finally call me out. I say goodbye. Now we have a neighbor who is going to give Mass to M every Saturday. She refuses to give me the host. Okay, no problem…

Now comes the best part. I’m the Partner/Spouse who sits with M. at the Hospital. The Rat doesn’t make an appearance in Tampa. The neighbor does.

M. loves well-dressed men. She has sent me out to bring a blanket, a pillow, a form. I don’t know what. Her hands are greasy. Black grease. I’m trying to figure where there is grease on a wheelchair. I’m hearing good numbers and not listening very well. He gets up annoyed, hands me some paper to wipe M. hands. There is grease on his pants too.