EPISODE ONE
EPISODE TWO
EPISODE THREE
EPISODE FOUR
EPISODE FIVE
EPISODE SIX
EPISODE SEVEN
EPISODE EIGHT
The Binder Of Shame, Channel Ab3 And More!
The last remnants of a time-lost love are uncovered when I revisit a once-thriving mall to shop its final liquidation sale...
'Everything Must Go' was written by Al Bruno III
It was produced and read by Kenneth Cooper
Our unpaid scientific advisor is Adam J Thaxton
The Channel Ab3 theme was written and performed by Rachel F Williams
Channel Ab3 logo was designed by Antonio G
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This is Channel Ab3 is distributed and licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution Non-Commercial Sharealike 4.0 International License
by
Al Bruno
Fall 2000
It was not a physical decay that had rotted Mountainview Mall away from the inside but an economic one. The stores had bled away bit by bit. Some had been small businesses that never stood a chance, like a store that sold nothing but products made in Switzerland. Others had been casualties of changing tastes and fashions.
Losses like that could be dealt with, but when the mall's McDonald's closed down, it was the beginning of the end. I was there for a liquidation sale for a big box electronics store that had been placed there in hopes of reviving customer traffic. The plan had failed, and now this store was the only business left. Everything else was just empty windows and boarded-up doorways. I wasn't there to buy anything but would bring something away with me nonetheless.
Bargain hunters like me entered the mostly defunct electronics store through the front door, but there was another door to be found. It was at the back, near the nearly empty video department. All left there now was a handful of Playboy features and cheaply produced Disney direct-to-video movies. I doubt anyone would have the nerve to bring either video cassette to the sour-looking woman at the register. That second door was kept open to cool down the store, better than paying for air conditioning.
It was easy enough for me to slip through those doors and wander into The mall's darkened interior. I could see the empty spaces that had been a Woolworth's, a restaurant, and Spencer's gifts. When I was a teenager, I had frittered so many hours and dollars away in this place.
The mall's fountain had dried up long ago, the water turned off, the pennies and nickels snatched away. There was dirt and dust everywhere, as well as scraps of old paper and rat droppings, some dried and some fresh. The newspapers said that as soon as the electronics store was emptied, this mall would be knocked down, and a much more eye-pleasing shopping plaza would rise up from the ruins. There were even hushed and reverent whispers that a Target or Wal-Mart would be there.
I wondered when that would be. I was thirty-six, and so many of my life's landmarks had disappeared or changed into something unrecognizable. I asked how much longer it would be before the wrecking ball came for this place. I didn't know, but I knew this would be my last chance to get what I had left behind.
Despite the shadows and the grime, I found the spot easily. It was just an ordinary bench; I remember it faced a women's clothing store. The bench was chipped and lopsided. It creaked threateningly as I sat down. When I closed my eyes, I could remember the girl sitting beside me. The strawberry blonde, my first love.
The sounds came first, the murmur of voices, the empty din of the piped-in music. I saw myself at sixteen years old, so awkward and forever feeling like I would never measure up to the world's expectations of me.
I could tell you that my first love was as cute as a button, but that would be a lie because there wasn't a button made that could have held a candle to her. I remembered the white winter jacket she wore and the scent of her perfume. It was soft, gentle, and unique like her, and I never smelled it like it again. That day, we had been sitting side by side, joking and talking. That first kiss, my first kiss, happened so fast, and after that, nothing was ever the same again.
Did we look ridiculous sitting there, making out in full view of the world? Probably, and I suppose more than a few people didn't approve, but no one tried to separate or shame us.
Which is good because you couldn't have pried her from my embrace with a crowbar. I didn't want those kisses to end. I wanted them to go on forever.
Impossible, I know, but when you're sixteen, time moves so slowly that forever seems easy.
But there was no forever. There was just that moment, which had ended as surely as Mountainview Mall had become a faux-deco tomb. I opened my eyes, and I was thirty-six- definitely older but only maybe a little wiser. I have a wife, daughter, and an appalling number of pets waiting for me back home, and for all my mooning over the past and smartass remarks, I couldn't wait to see them.
I savored that memory, hiding it away in my mind and my heart as I brought it with me. I was sure no one would mind one less ghost haunting a place like this.
Fully Employed But Half Awake
by
Al Bruno III
2009
This is not simply a blog entry, oh no.
This is part of today's struggle a delaying tactic if you will.
I am still at work and about to fall asleep at my desk.
mmmmmmm... sleep....
It
wasn't that I stayed up to late, I am nothing if not responsible. It's
just that I was awoken by the sensation of my face being furiously
licked and sadly the culprit was not Jessica Alba or Judge Marilyn
Milian but my big eyed dog Jake. I patted Jake on the head and ushered
him away. Then I tried to get back to sleep but it was no use, I had
been awoken. I checked the clock radio, it was three AM. I groaned
audibly and pounded my fist against the mattress. The minor commotion
disturbed my wife and half-awake she grumbled "You're supposed to do
that in your office."
Awkward.
So now here I am, struggling to stay conscious as the workday ticks by slowly... numbingly... soothingly... so soothingly...
just a few minutes... I'll just close my eyes for a few minutes...
But
no! I can't do that. That's the trap, I know that if I close my eyes
for what I promise yourself will just be a moment the next thing I know
I'll find myself waking up from lying face first on my keyboard, my face
slicked with my own drool. I drool a lot when I sleep, I drool like
Paris Hilton at a rich douchebag convention. Besides I know the minute I
nod off my boss or any number of corporate underlings will come
wandering into my cubicle for one reason or another.
So I sit here typing away, pausing only for the occasional blackou-
mustn't... black... out...
...or steal dialogue from Frank Miller comic books.
I'm
no stranger to falling asleep at work, it doesn't matter what the job I
had I feel asleep there at least once. I once fell asleep while manning
a cash register in the middle of an afternoon rush. All I know is that I
started to get drowsy at 1:30 and the next thing I knew it was 2:45- I
still have no idea what happened during that missing hour and fifteen
minutes but oddly enough my cash drawer was perfectly even that day. I
rare occurrence for me.
When I worked in an office supply store I
would frequently drowse off in an office furniture display while
'straightening it'- I guess it was kind of practice for now eh kids?
and my dreams, brief and disturbing... am at home dreaming of my job or at my job dreaming of home?
And
I really do dream of work an awful lot really, maybe that's why I'm so
comfortable sleeping here. Maybe its just getting even, maybe its just a
sign of old but where I once dreamed I was a character in a
particularly Freudian episode of Doctor Who or the X-Files
I now dream that I'm on a quest to figure out where the latest
productivity meeting is. Where I once dreamed of banging away on Cindy
Crawford or Angela Lansbury I now find my dream self trying to bang a
toner cartridge into a dirty photocopier- a dirty dirty photocopier.
Where I once dreamed I was a long haired Adonis I now dream that I am a
long haired Adonis with a clip on tie.
why is it the more
tired I get the more offensive and surreal my material gets, like a tiny
Nazi riding on a mule wearing a spangled turban...
It is
an amazing and cruel thing to be perfectly awake at 3 AM watching
infomercials and dead to the world at 3PM when you are supposed to be
enhancing shareholder value. I try to give my energy a boost by having
sugary snack, there are no shortage of sugary snacks around my
workplace. I believe it is an insidious plan by my corporate masters to
make us too bloated to leave our cubicles. I can almost see my future
self so bloated that he cannot move from his ergonomic chair, kept alive
and working via a company that pays us in insulin. Of course we will
passing the savings on to our customers.
barely awake now... dreaming of Nutty Buddy bars...
I
promise myself that when I get home I'll go straight to bed but that's a
lie; dogs need to be walked, then re-walked, my daughter needs to be
made to do her homework - reason is rarely effective , the threat of
waterboarding has been a rousing success, my wife will most likely yell
at me for gently mocking her on the Internet. And really I shouldn't
mock her because of all the women I have made love to she is the only
one that never shouted "What the HELL are you doing?"
Oh yeah. She's a keeper.
My
daughter's homework is a major stumbling block as well, I don't
remember my homework being quite so intricate when I was nine years old.
Then again I did have to take my classes in the boiler room with the
other 'creative' students. Now once my daughter gets focused she does
great but getting her to that point seems to take a long exhausting
time. Before I know it it's 8:30 and time to take out the garbage and
maybe clean the catbox, sure it might make more sense to do those chores
in reverse but that's just not how I roll.
Before I can go to
bed however I first spend some time with the missus then try to add a
write a few pages. It could be anything, my blog, my writing, my ever
growing enemies list.
You bastards know who you are.
Then I
go to bed but I know I won't make it through the night, something will
wake me up at 3 AM even if it is the sound of my own snoring.
waking up now ...I can think again...
Well I managed to stay awake, the brain activity involved in working on this little project is just what I needed.
Of course now that you're read this there is a good chance I've put YOU to sleep.
Al Bruno III
The bed was too small, the room was too warm and her clothes were too tight but in a matter of moments one of those problems would be solved for her. Kate felt his hands snake up along her back and take hold of the zipper on the back of her black dress.
She couldn’t believe she was doing this! He was half her age, half her age and beautiful. He still lived with his parents but he was undressing her like an old pro.
The dress fell away and Kate felt a flush of uncertainty, these weren’t the perky breasts of a college hottie, these weren’t the hips of a girl flush with the promise of youth. Her shape was still lovely enough to catch a man’s eye but she knew her body had been marked by the passage of time; there were stretch marks and a tattoo that had seemed like such a good idea at the time.
What would she do if he flinched away from the sight of her? She would die, she would just die.
He didn’t look away and a little smile pulled at the corners of his mouth, an appreciative smile. Then he was pulling her close and closer still.
There was stubble on his chin, his breath smelled like gum and his kisses were like candy. His name was
Robbie. He was a valet and he had flirted with her as she dropped off her car and headed into the grand old hotel for the wedding reception. She was sure he gave the eye to all the middle aged broads that crossed his path, but he’d walked off the job to be with her hadn't he? Walked off the job with a breezy laugh of “They won't fire me.”
What was it her old friend Debbie had said about cougars and cubs? Debbie was always one for smutty little remarks. She’d even made them when she was in hospice, trying to make the orderlies blush while she’s still had the strength to speak.
What would Debbie say if she could see her now?
Robbie had stripped Kate down to her plain cotton underwear. The panties of a woman with no expectations. His touch skirted the old scar that marked the place where the doctors had gone in to remove her cancerous womb. Did he know what that scar meant? Or was he too busy kissing just below her navel and working his way down?
In spite of everything Kate giggled when those kisses reached their goal and he made himself busy. No one had done that in a while!
Or with such thoroughness.
It had been the wedding of a daughter of an old acquaintance, someone she had lost touch with since college and then found again thanks to the dubious miracle of Facebook. Kate decided to go on a whim, thinking it might be fun to see her old home town again. To see what had changed and what hadn’t. Maybe she would even rekindle an old friendship or two.
She had avoided the actual ceremony however, wedding ceremonies left a bad taste in her mouth. She had been burned twice and that was enough, the only thing more expensive than her weddings had been her divorces.
Now it was her turn to undress him. The terrain of his body was familiar but there were surprises. A pierced nipple, washboard abs and he was more than a handful in all the right places; and he was ready to go! No purple pills and pregnant pauses here.
Pregnant.
There was a word she didn’t like crossing her mind. Especially considering what she had lost at such a young age, even more so when she realized who else was at the reception.
Of course she should have guessed. Hadn’t the invitation come from an old and mutual friend? Kate was civil enough when Scott her old fiancee called out her name and told her it was long time no see. He hugged her in a way that showed he still didn’t have the slightest idea how much he had hurt her way back when.
He had smiled and told her she hadn’t changed a bit. He bragged that he was the manager of this hotel and he had charged the bride’s family half price for the affair. Then he had introduced his wife and offered to show her his wallet full of kids. The need for those kids was the reason he had left her within months after the hysterectomy.
It was a clumsy move but she had excused herself by pretending her cell phone was on vibrate and there was an important call coming in. She made a show of talking
to someone that wasn't there and made as dignified a run for the exit as she could.
She hadn’t even known that she was crying until the handsome valet had asked her if she was all right. This was not the distracted concern of a well- trained employee but the tentative reaching out of a would-be friend. Ordinarily she would never have gone off with some stranger but Kate already felt like she knew him.
It had been good to have someone to talk to, better than good, they found a booth in a little diner and talked for hours.
Then he brought her home sneaking her into the house like they were a pair of horny teenagers. With the door closed behind them there hadn’t been the need for small talk.
And now here she was holding him while he made love to her, running her nails along his wide back until he shivered. When she climaxed she cried out blissfully, carelessly.
That cry brought Robbie's parents running into the room. Covering herself quickly Kate said the only thing she could think of, “Hi Scott, long time no see!"