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TALES FROM THE BARSTOOL
By: Clint Lien
“Alive and Dangerous”
Part III
"Who did you say it was?"
"Jose - and I know who robbed your house?"
First of all let me say that Jose did not speak English in the traditional sense. He spoke Street. While I do not speak Street I was able to understand him and he was able to understand my English. I've tried to faithfully translate the conversation as best I can.
My first thought was that I was currently speaking to the gentleman who had "jacked" the house and I was waiting for the inevitable price tag for the return of the goods.
"What's your address? I'll go and retrieve your items and bring them back."
If he'd been the one to rob the place he should know the address. I told him the address. Chris and my friend were bouncing around the room. They knew what was going on.
"How certain of this information are you?" I asked him.
"Exceedingly," he replied.
"Why would you do this?" I wanted to know. "What's
in it for you?"
He had heard about the incident through a friend
who knew another friend who was friends with my
friend. So many friends. And the severity of the
loss of the tapes had been impressed upon him. He
simply wanted to do a good deed.
I'd had a good deal to drink and wanted desperately
to believe him - so I did.
"The tapes, Jose - the tapes are the most important
thing."
"Have no fear," he replied.
I hung up the phone and was instantly peppered with
questions.
"Jose is coming over with the stuff."
Fifty seven minutes later I hear the back gate open. A young Hispanic man strode up to the patio door. He had a baseball cap on askew. His three quarter length trousers were seven sizes too big and for the life of me I can not recall the team name on his basketball tank top. Over his shoulder was slung my briefcase. Never in my life have I felt such joy. I threw open the door. I was speechless.
"I'm, Jose. Is this your briefcase?"
I hugged Jose. I think I even tried to kiss him. I grabbed the briefcase and ran to the living room where everyone was quickly gathering. I remember thinking the case felt a bit thick (it was a soft case). I dumped out the contents and discovered the thickness was due to the fact that a camera and some lenses had been stuffed in there.
"Who's camera?" I asked.
Jose shrugged. "I saw it there and figured they
probably stole that as well."
My laptop was there. My journal was there. Season
Three of the X Files was there.
The tapes were not there. My heart sunk.
TO BE CONTINUED
Just kidding.
"Where's the tapes?" I wailed.
Jose pointed at the X Files DVDs. "Isn't that what
you're looking for?"
I couldn't speak through my tears. Chris explained
to Jose what the tapes looked like. A look crossed
Jose's face. It was not a nice look.
He flipped open his cell phone, dialed a number from
memory and spoke to whomever answered.
He shifted to a dialect of Street that was pretty
much beyond me. Roughly it went like this:
"Where are the tapes? The tapes were suppose to be
there (he then describes the tapes,)"
Pause.
"Yes, that's them. We want them back."
Pause.
He covers the phone. "They want $30,000 for the tapes."
I throw up.
Jose doesn't wait for me to recover. He goes back
to the call.
"They say they'll give me $15,000 to kill you and
get the tapes back."
He hangs up the phone and looks at me.
"Go to the corner of La Cienaga and Sunset in ten
minutes - across from the Pink Dot. They'll meet you
there and give you the tapes."
Chris piped in. "I'll go with you!"
We were ready to charge out the door when it occurred
to me that I might get killed. I hesitated and turned
to Jose.
"Don't you think this is a little more up your alley?
Maybe you should go!"
"They're afraid of me. If they see me they'll jack
rabbit." (thought I'd slip in a bit of Street for
you)
We started again for the door, but Jose stopped me.
"You know, you're right those fools just might shoot
you."
He lifted his basketball jersey and pulled out a gun
the size of my head.
"Maybe you should take this."
I protested then Chris piped in again. "Don't worry,
I've got it taken care of."
He patted his waist. It's true - America is armed
and I was in an episode of the Twilight Zone.
My friend gave me a slap on the back. "Be careful,"
he said with a smile.
Five minutes later we were parked at the Pink Dot.
Chris wisely elected to hide. "If they start shooting
- duck. I've got your back."
Any moment Rod Serling was going to come around the
corner with that cigarette dangling from his hand.
I stood on the corner.
And stood on the corner.
And stood.
They were seven minutes late and I had to pee. You
can't believe how much you can think about in seven
minutes.
Then I heard the dull thump of a base line.
A black Lexus with tinted windows was rolling up beside
me.
My heart stopped.
The window of the passenger side rolled down and a
hand flopped out as the car came to a stop. There
were three tapes in the hand.
I stepped up to the car. There were three young men
in the car. They all wore sunglasses and they all
had a hand hidden from view. The fellow with the tapes
looked up at me.
"If I see you again - or if Jose comes to see us -
I'll kill you."
I took the tapes and all I could think to say was
"Thank you."
I'd thanked the men who had put me in Purgatory for
the day.
They drove away and I stood there staring at the tapes.
I didn't have to pee any more. Chris came running
out from the car he was hiding behind. We hugged on
the street. I got back in his car and we drove off.
Before I could say a word to him my phone rang. It was the band calling me from the airport. They wanted to let me know that they didn't blame me for losing the tapes and that I shouldn't worry about it. I almost started crying. When I told them I was holding the tapes their shouts could be heard all the way to Holland.
What a day. What a strange world.
The video is now done and is in rotation in Europe.
I'll post it on my web page - www.deadlypen.com
as soon as I'm able.
Reactions? Comments? Write me at barfly@netlistings.com
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An
Out of Country Experience-Part 30
