Wednesday, June 25, 2014

Just A Day At Work (Part 1)

PREFACE:
This turned out far longer than I anticipated.  I was expecting to write another three-chapter story, like Rook or Cross-Tribal Mating Disasters.... A fairly extended story, certainly, but at nine chapters,  not the Homeric epic it turned out to be.
Everything here is "true."  To line up as a better story, sequences of events have been changed, along with all proper names.  Also, I never, ever dealt drugs in large quantities, no siree Bob, I never did that, that's my story, and I'm sticking to it.  Just like the performers and crew, who never touched drugs in their life, honest.

Just A Day At Work (Part 2)

I stepped through the doors and into a contrast of activities.  The large family room/media room contained both male performers, "Chip" and "Dale."  They were close friends off-set; rumor had it they were lovers. If so, they were loyal to each other, as their blood tests always came back clean.  They were well-mannered and pleasant, but also... Well, the phrase "thick as shit" comes to mind.  Both had the intellectual capacity of fairly clever nine year olds, the types who moved their lips when you were reading.

Just A Day At Work (Part 3)

Bekka swiveled to look at me as I came outside.  "So what's the word?"
I shrugged.  "No clue.  They aren't making progress on repairing the drive, everyone else is just sorta sitting around.  Personally, they oughta beat cheeks to the nearest place that carries those drives and pick up a new one.... But it's not my money to spend."
In a slightly accusing tone, she said, "So what took you?"

Just A Day At Work (Part 4)

(I seem to have gotten ahead of myself.  Bekka and I wouldn't spend the night together for a few more days.  Back to the ranch, where the tape drive is functioning and we're ready to shoot a two-on-one.)

The director glared at us as we entered.  Bekka had a grin on her face like a morally ambiguous superhero, I was getting my cameras arranged on their straps the way I liked them, and hoping no one looked down, as I still had a hard-on made of Kryptonite.  I kept willing it to drop, but its presence was making itself known rather persistently.  Calm Steve did notice, and said with a crooked grin, "So, you're clear about what side of the camera you're gonna be on, right?"

Just A Day At Work (Part 5)

The three of us traipsed outside.  The spot we were using was great.  A wide stretch of cement bordered by the pool on one side and meticulously groomed lawn on the other.  Another great feature:  this was the deep end of the pool, and there was a diving board.  I had a few ideas in mind for some posing using that board.
"So guys, you wanna do this live, or posed?  It doesn't matter to me, so long as neither one of you fall in the pool."

Just A Day At Work (Part 6)

There was a sense of both exuberance and exhaustion inside the house.  The shooting schedule was nothing new, but it felt like a long, stressful day, because it had been.  The speed had never been put away, and people were helping themselves to not-too-large bumps: enough to fight off the fatigue everyone was feeling, but not enough to get spun up.
Most everyone was there, so I made an announcement.  "I propose," I bellowed, "we all take Rita out to dinner tonight, for savin' our bacon this afternoon!"  A cheer of approval went up.

Just A Day At Work (Part 7)

Rita and I rolled south on I-5.  She had a relaxed look on her face, a combination of four drinks and the personal satisfaction of a couple jobs well done.  She was vaguely fascinated by my little Honda CVCC.  Given the social culture she was born, raised, and lived in, something that small was a complete anomaly.... And she was used to taking shit for driving her Toyota beater.
My Honda was not a beater.  While not an attractive vehicle, it was kept running well: given the light aluminum blocks CVCCs had, I ran Mobil One oil through it and kept the coolant topped off religiously.  I maintained it almost obsessively, getting it tuned every fifteen thousand miles, keeping the tires rotated, having the transmission and clutch inspected at set intervals (along with the brakes).... My little CVCC wasn't about to leave me stranded.

Just A Day At Work (Part 8)

I had realized I was watching for Bekka to show up, and had to force myself to stop it.  Dammit, she's just a work friend, nothing to get worked up about, we just hang out sometimes, what we did yesterday was just two people blowing off steam, she's just a friend, there's no need to think about her flowing hair and her clear complexion and her perfectly-shaped peach of an ass and her largish firm breasts with their long nipples or her smooth bare vulva---
Fucking STOP IT.  For all I know, her and her boyfriend were no longer exes, which meant he must die in a terrible vehicle explosion---

Just A Day At Work (Part 9)


Amazing things can happen in a Days Inn.  Friends can become closer, jokes can be made, life-changing sexual experiences can come (so to speak) to fruition.

Hearts can be broken.

Hearts can also be mended.

Sometimes these two events can happen within the space of minutes.

Sunday, June 1, 2014

Rook (Part 1)

Addendum: Rook

NOTE:  This is something of a continuum from the "Cross-Tribal Mating Disasters" story, that damn long three-parter I wrote.  It's about Rook, a fourteen year old throwaway kid who me and my roommates took in.  As young as she was, we were her friends.... But we also had a rather protective bend when it came to Rook: she had eleven older brothers and sisters who would do anything to keep her safe.  Yeah, we were a strange family, but one that loved her.... Which was more than could be said about her parents.  Anyway, if you haven't read "Cross-Tribal Mating Disasters" yet, g'wan and read that one first.  This'll make more sense.

Rook (Part 2)


Chuckles, Rook, and Richard came in, chatting about computers.  I knew Rook had a mild interest in them; it turned out Richard was an enthusiast like Chuckles: the long bench with at least three glowing CRT monitors, empty cases, motherboards, random parts, manuals, all the bits a computer enthusiast/geek needed.  Richard's parents had the money to supply him with anything he needed, but he preferred Chuckles' method: scavenging.  They both felt there was a certain purity in building working machines from stuff other people had thrown away.  Chuckles and Richard were arguing Linux versus Windows, and also which build of Linux.

Rook (Part 3)

In a British SUV, Moving Through Berkeley On A Friday Evening

"So, what is her name, anyway?"
"Are you speaking of Rook, Fred?"
"Who else?"
"I promised I would keep her name a secret, no exceptions.  I am keeping that promise.  That girl has had enough betrayal from the adults in her life for me not to."
"Aww, but...."
"I said no.  This is very important to her, I will not betray her trust, and this subject is closed."