Leroy's (part 19); The Higher Brain of the Regular

[note: I have actually been to Leroy's three times since my last Leroy's post, but mostly those were boring. Yesterday I was there twice. I was there once in the morning before I went to work and then again at night with Double O. LEROY'S (PART 19) has nothing to do with my time spent there yesterday morning. That crew is bunkus.]

I left work early, which is something I rarely do. I need all the hours Sportsmen's Warehouse will give me, you see. So, even on the boring nights, I usually stick-out the closing shifts. Abby was left alone for the last hour and a half last night, which she hates (due to a fear, I think, of being alone), when I left because of some higher-brain dysfunction. I lyke spelling words wythe the letter "Y" when it's not appropriate. I also like spelling words with the letter "I" when it replaces the letter "Y." Lyke: "I don't know whi I do such things."

Where was I? Right, the higher brain. I was losing my grip on all things normal and my pleasant and pacient demeanor was tumbling towards anger and violence. I was beginning to feel unwelcome inside my own body and things were not canceling out in the equation. At the exact moment of breakdown a customer asked me to show him our Gore-Tex fishing waders and wanted to know how he could perhaps use a Thermopolis Sorel boot liner (4-layer wool/felt liner rated to -40F/C) to keep his feet warm in the cold cold waters of AlAskA. His innocent inquiry felt like a provocation and I became livid with him. I took the waders off the clothes hanger and hand them to him while I twiddled the hanger in my hand, behind my back. As the man slipped off his shoes to try the neoprene bootie on for size, with the liner on underneath, I imagined myself shoving the hanger down this throat... through his adam's apple. I decided, at that point, that this customer deserved service of a Kinder Quality and politely excused myself in search of a fellow associate. I did not, however, surrender the coat hanger until I was through with my shift an hour later.

I left the War House and drove to Double O's. Along the way, while stopped in parking lots and at red lights, while my little blue Saturn was idling, I noticed a few slight hicups in the engine. They were nothing that said, "We mean buisness," so I didn't take it seriously. I picked Double O up and after climbing the stairs several times to give Lissy hugs and again for kisses and again for high-fives and again for all three, we left his "Duplex of Despondency" and headed across town for Leroy's Family Diner, Famous Since 1968. I had called Double O from work and had asked him to call my parents in Iowa to ask them what the phyciatrist from the Cerro Gordo County Lutheran Services had diagnosed me with when I was 16 years old. I couldn't remember what manner of Chemical was perceived to be imbalanced. Double O had not been able to reach my parents and nor was I. The two of us, now in my LURCHING blue Saturn, ambled down Lake Otis, Dowling, New Seward, Fireweed, and C St discussing my 'hot potato' on no more information than could be rend between the ostensible and unfeigned memories of my teen-aged years.

We bobbed up in the Leroy's parking lot at 7:15 p.m., dropped anchor, and spoke there for the next 40 minutes, during which time we absent mindedly lamped the rain that was falling change neatly over to snow and then cease all-embracingly.

[Did you guys know that "lamp" means "observe"??? I learned that today from reading a book!]

A temporary exposition to my problem, my 'hot-potato,' was surmised by Double O:
"You do not respond to emotional highs and lows the same way other people do, especially when they come so close together. If you feel like you need to starting taking Imipramine again, then do it. I for one do not think pills can solve real problems, but if it helped you before, then they can help you again. But, if you want to start taking the drugs again, why not start with Smarties? No, seriously, go all out. Get yourself one of those little plastic boxes with the days of the week on it so you don't forget to take them, fill it up with Smarties, and then swallow one a day with a glass of water and see if your mind can't trick you into feeling better. And hey, if it doesn't work, I'll eat them. I like Smarties."

We went inside just a few minutes before 8 p.m. After bathroom breaks and fine fettles of coffee, we started in with the newspapers. In one corner booth behind us sat the group of idiot gamers that frequent Leroy's as much as I do. The Three of them are always together. Never are there Four gamers at the table, nor shall the counting of gamers ever be Two, less the counter then proceeds to Three. They were talking History and Geography. Like so:

BRODY: Josh, help us settle a bet. Christopher wanted to know what countries in Europe the Great Wall of China went through and what was the year Reagan tore it down.
JOSH: The Great Wall of China is still mostly intact. Don't you probably mean the Berlin Wall?
CHRISTOPHER: No, Spider_0001 from the forum said it was the Great Wall of China. He's doing a thing for the group meeting next week and he needs to know what graphic decorum would be best.
BRODY: You see, my stance is that the Berlin Wall is just the part of the wall that goes through China.
CHRISTOPHER: And I say that the Great Wall of China was torn down after WWII except for parts of the wall in Europe which Regan tore down in Germany.
JOSH: Let me put on my best geography-teacher hat to try and explain this to you. The Great Wall of China is, in fact, exclusively in Asia.
BRODY: I'm pretty sure you're wrong. What would be so great about tearing down a wall in Germany? It's not even that big of a country.

I'm not sure if Double O heard that particular conversation, but I had a good chortle at their expense. To this day I still laugh when I see idiots putting all their creative powers into something like video games and then debating each other over their game-play.

The two of us were busy cheating at crossword puzzles when Mary came in and we all said Hi. We were simalerly engrossed when Liz came in and gave everyone Valentine's Day Cards. They were the kind that are punched from a larger sheet. It's my bookmark now, I put the Kinko's electronic chip card back in my wallet.

I ordered the Chicken Dinner thinking it was $4.95 but after the food came to the table Double O informed me that I was looking at the Seniors Menu section and I had just paid $8.95 for something I didn't really like. Oops. That kind of thing really sucks when I think about the fact that I only make $8.50 an hour. AN HOUR OF MY LIFE BOUGHT ME THIS SHITTY CHICKEN DINNER. Terrible thoughts. Double O ordered onion rings with ranch and we both drank coffee. I rationed myself at three cups, a good perscription of the black stuff for problems of the Higher Brain Dysfunction... or what I used to call: "Cold Brain Something," when my mind is at it's most logical. The "Warm Brain Something" is my brain's emotive responce to creativity clicking, generally it's Mungo at his Mungoiest.

Then, when we discovered that it was late, 11:30 p.m., I drove Double O back to his half-a-home. The weather was sort of back to normal except the heavy presence of slush and ice everywhere. The knocking of my car became quite irritating and we spent much of the drive testing out D/3/2 gear options holding each at different RPM's and sitting idle. In Double O's Circle of Moose Run I milled around several times with the radio and windows down so Double O's ears could try to deduce the ailment in my engine. At this point the problem is believed to be misfiring spark plugs or, at worst, slipping auto transmission. Tomorrow, after I drop off my application at NAC and talk to a 2nd Bob, I'll have Double O follow me to Jiffy Lube and we'll try to get this mess sorted out. More to come there.

I was just thinking. I love Leroy's. I do. I really love that place. Filled up with so mazy zanny people, staffed by the fray of society. There are different types of Leroy's regulars who visit the counters from time to time. There's the casual eater, who attends perhaps once a month; the regular, who needs no menu and can be seen there at least 5 times a week; the college kids, who come to the Leroy's only when their school's lab is full and the library is closed; and many other types, which I'll leave out for no real reason. From my end of the counter, I have made it a habit to ignore what they are reading or doing or saying to each other, but sometimes it is quite simply impossible to resist a good eavesdrop.

Like the time I stood outside the bathroom and listened to Joe talk to a man who was sleeping in the bathroom. Oh, I love a bit of polite conversation!

Like the guy that wore a sombraro and sang songs in Spanish, they sounded romantic. He had a nice voice but it cracked on high notes.

And then there are the librarians that come in. I'm not sure which library in town they're from, but I'd like to think it's a secret underground library because they're always wearing black. They have the coolest stories.
"The strangest item in the book drop this week was an unlit firecracker," said one.
Said two, "UNLIT?"
Said one,"Patrons putting firecrackers in the library overnight book drop does not happen as often as some people imagine. This is only the second time I've seen one, although it was the first time I had seen one unlit."
Said three, "The first one destroyed seven books and damaged over a dozen others."

But mostly it's the random droppers-in that amuse me the most. Especially when they're foreigners. Two or three days ago there was a woman who was, apparently, very fond of clemintines. She said, "Goddamn, those things are good. In Scotland, where all the clementines are imported from Spain, the season is long gone, it was probably six weeks shorter than in the U.S., unfortunately. But man, you should have seen the crates stacked up in the grocery stores while we had 'em. 'Wall-to-wall treetop-tall,' someone might call it. At one point back in November I used a clementine in a poem (which of course made the poem instantly awesome)and when I read it to my flatmates, well, guess what happened? By the end of the week there were three more clementine poems floating around. I wasn't jealous or anything, because I like poems as much as I like clementines and think there should be more of both of them in the world. I'm just saying, they really are the awesomest thing in The History of Things or awesomeness." And then she said to a four year old boy who was sitting next to her in a booth, "Don't ever let me catch you hanging around with satsumas, cause they ain't nothing but poser bitches."

I love Leroy's. You guys should come one night.

Peace and Love,
Mungo