Boys With Hats, the Latest Boy Band Sensation

Mom gave me a bunch of photos. Well, actually I inveigled them from her. That's right: I inveigled TO THE MAX. I wanted the photos for my own purposes, but I was well aware she wouldn't just hand over photos--especially of herself--if I simply asked. So before putting my cunning strategem into play, I decided to lull her with library stories. She'd be very sleepy very soon.

"So I worked at the Corky Gonzales library yesterday," I said.

"Corky, what?"

"I'll be Corky. You know, Albuquerque, New Mexico."

Mom was baffled. "There's a New Mexico?"

"Anyway, they had to shut down all the restrooms, all three of them, because of heavy, hilarious crack use. The custodian put an OUT OF ORDER sign on all the doors, and he told me he'd reopen them in an hour once the thick, choking smog of people enjoying themselves cleared. So inevitably some gentleman in his hundreds and with a walker came up to me and asked where could he have a quiet pee? I told him the restrooms were closed, but they'd open in an hour. The man was not happy. 'This is a public building, I should be able to use the facilities!' he groused. At that point, I stared at him, mouth open, the words not coming. I was beflummoxed. My normal instinct was to give him options. The idea flitted in my head that we could get him to the staff restroom, but I thought that probably wouldn't be a popular option with the rest of the staff. Since I was at Gonzales, which is at Federal and Colfax, I was utterly at a loss as to where this gentleman with his walker could go. Direct him to the Conoco three blocks down Colfax? Instead I just gaped at him, and the man huffily snorted away. Not my finest moment in customer service."

Mom was peacefully dozing.

"Mom, Bailey is running off with your poop spoon!"

"What, what!" Mom jumped awake.

"Just kidding. She's taking a poop instead. Aw, how cute."

"Are you done with your library stories?" Mom said. "Please?"

"Wait, there's more. So later in the day, the restrooms were back open and the one directly across from where I sit they keep the door propped open, because of crack. A small fellow came up to me and asked if he could use it, and I said, most certainly--feeling good about my customer service skills again. He went in to the handicapped stall, and proceeded to flush. And flush. And flush. I turned to my fellow clerk and asked her if she noticed that a lot of flushing was going on. Flush! There it went again. Flush. Flush. Finally, we got the security guard and she knocked on the door and asked if everything was all right in there. The guy yelled he was going number two. The guard shrugged at us. I told her we needed to make a sign, 'LIMIT 10 FLUSHES PER CUSTOMER.' She answered me very seriously that she didn't think that would be needed, as the toilet continued to flush roaringly behind her."

Mom yawned.

"Anyway, Mom... Those pictures?"

"Hm? Oh, oh, yes. Here. Take what you want."

I started to sort through them, stopping on the ones that had the most obvious comedy/tragedy value. The first one was me and my little brothers (whatstheirnames) at Estes Park, being a public menace.

"Let's don hats and be SILLY."

The next was Christmas Day (note the paper holiday bells scotch-taped to the wall in the background, decoration so depressing it makes baby Jesus cry), where I decided to celebrate the first Festivus by drooping yarn on my full head of dreamy hair. Chris scored some swag. A one? A two? Off to buy some gumballs and Pepsi-Colas and Whammo cup-and-ball games, with change left over! (The ghoul woman in the background is Grandma, grinning in anticipation of giving us all a savage beating with Whammo Tinkertoys.)

A ripping yarn, the untold story

Mom frowned. "Oh. There are some mixed in of your father. See this one. That one he's looking at me with real love."

"That's nice, Mom."

"It's awful."

"Right, right."

"Right, stand there, you two. We want the bleakest, most

 depressing background we can get. Ah yes. Echh. Oh God.

 Actually, I don't know if I can... Get Samuel Beckett

 for this shit... Ugh... *snaps picture* Okay, let's get

 a beer. And crack. (I'm so fucking depressed...)"

And another, to round out the quartet of warm, sweet memories.

"The radiator adds a nice touch. *chef's kiss*"

"Dad as a young Lothario, marrying two women at once. Or three. Who are these other people?"

Mom shrugged. "I think that was Barbara, your father's first girlfriend. And that's Mikey on the side. He was a real jerk to me. Oh, and the one on the right was Laura. She was terrible. I always hated her."

"Aw," I said.

"Are we done here?"

"Yes, we... Oh, look! Bailey is licking the poop spoon!"

"Bailey!" Mom shrieked. "Bad!"

"Good!" I yelled, and made off with my booty. I had plans.....