Rescue Me…

I had a call on the phone late tonight. I looked at the clock and it read 2 AM as I sat at this computer. I was listening to the rebroadcast of Mick Williams’ Cyber-line over the internet. “Fuck, I need to go to bed,” I thought as I got up to answer it wary of who would be calling so late.

“Rescue me,” She said on the other end. “Come down here and get me out of this shit. We have had nothing but fucking crazies all night.”

“Honey, you are falling out of the frying pan and into the fire,” I replied.

“Oh, fuck. Don’t start that, ‘you are crazy’ shit with me,” She replied angrily. “Come down here and get my ass. You carry on about being so crazy, but you are the most laid back and sane guy I know. Quit playing the fool.”

Yikes! Scathing!

I hung up the phone and sleepily put on some more presentable clothes. I was idling around the house in a white cotton t-shirt and my Auburn Tigers polyester shorts; sleeping gear that I wouldn’t leave the house wearing in broad daylight.

I drove down to and walked into Fat Albert’s and poured myself a cup of coffee in the back of the store.

“It’s on the house,” Carolyn said tersely loudly out of viewing.

“What’s got into you tonight?” I asked as I walked up to the counter concerned.

“Just take me home with you,” She said. “I can’t take this shit anymore.”

I looked at Debra who was her co-worker tonight wondering what her reaction would be.

“You two head on out,” She said. “I will be okay until seven by myself. I will tell Barbara (the manager) you got sick.”

I and Carolyn got in my car and headed up through the neighborhood to my home.

“I just can’t take it anymore,” She said as she started to cry pitifully. “My job sucks.”

I reached over and grabbed her hand trying to console her as I drove.

“You are so lucky you don’t have to work and put up with that kind of shit.”

“I know,” I said not knowing what else to say. I am truly lucky although I wouldn’t wish schizophrenia or disability upon anyone else.

“Hell, someone paid for your house,” She said. “You didn’t even have to work for it. I had to bust my ass to keep my home after my divorce.”

She was right. I didn’t have to work for it. I am just lucky my family is very wealthy. I didn’t know what else to say. I didn’t want to make some lame excuse about me being fucked up in the head. I stayed quiet and just listened to her vent her feelings.

“Come on, let’s get you in the bed,” I said as we pulled up into my driveway and I turned my headlights off.

“You know I don’t hate you for what you have,” She said wiping the tears from her eyes as she got out of my car. “I am not a jealous person.”

“I know,” I said. “I know. Let’s talk about it in the morning after you have gotten some sleep.”

Carolyn crawled into my bed and pulled my covers over her. I turned off my bedroom lights and quietly stepped into my den to turn on my air conditioner. “Life sucks,” I thought as I sat down to write this. Most people spend all their lives working through bullshit for food tokens and just to pay their bills. Nobody should have to put up with the lottery induced madness that Carolyn has to deal with at paltry wages. I would be pissed off mad as well.