The Return of the Native

Sunday, June 22, 2008

The Return of the Native Current mood: romantic Category: Life I am back in North Dakota for three weeks. It isn't as hot here, and it isn't that humid either. Course I can't use my cell phone up here, because stupid ATT won't build a tower because they are racist or something. No one to text. Nothingness. Desolation. The end of all things. In my room, I have my western view again. I stand there for hours and watch the grass grow and the waters flow, comforted by the knowledge that growing grass and flowing water mean the United States government will never break its promises to the Indians. The Native Americans, not the people to whom we are routed and outsourced, who "help" us when we call an 800 number. When I called the XM help line the other day, I was assigned to an associate whose accent was so thick she made that 7-11 character on "The Simpsons," (Apu) sound like Sir Laurence Olivier. I had to ask her to repeat herself two or three times. She kept saying, "sir? Sir? Will you?" "Will I what," I'd answer. Then I'd explain I didn't know what she said, but I'd do it if only she'd get my XM to work. She didn't. Then I suggested they use their nukes on Iran, but she advised that wasn't her department. Said her name was "Bridgett," though. Yes. Right. Eat more cows then. In five years, no one will speak or read English. Here's some luck. Our luggage didn't make it with us to Bismarck. But -- since I'd wisely upgraded to first class (big wow, these days - gave me a sack of nuts), they brought the luggage to us in Beulah, which is 75 miles from Otto von Bismarck. Economy passengers were advised to suck it. Here's more luck. I was whining about wanting the western view. (The eastern view is asphalt and people gunning the engines of motor cycles). The front desk clerk felt sorry for me, and she gave me the only available room with the view: the honeymoon suite. So here I sit, in a three room suite with a jacuzzi, a sofa, two arm chairs, an actual desk, coffee tables, microwave, refrigerator, two televisions, and an automatic fireplace. The jacuzzi is surrounded by mirrors for some reason. These things happen to me every day. Still, no one will get in the jacuzzi with me. The room isn't costing my company any more than the usual crap room with stains on the bedspread. You know what i'm sayin'. So I'm going to walk around nekkid and urinate on things so people will know I've stayed here in this swell room, son. This is as close as I will ever get to marriage. I already miss all of my imaginary friends in Oklahoma, especially my life affirming, faith promoting sponsor. Until something interesting or annoying happens, I am, RPH, Esq., N.V (c) Randall P. Hodge, Esq., and Morningwood Enterprises, LLC