Sunday, June 5, 2011

Scariest Post Ever & Stupid Elven Poems?

Blog Post #121 discussed some of the stuff that takes place during border crossings.

I was glad when my writing mentor Mike Finley read it, but in addition to reading it, he commented.

what did he say....?

"This is scary!"?

Well Mike, and you 31 countries that have followed L.A.B., I have one other story that is far scarier, a story that took place really early in my hospitality career.

I was a kid working as a dish rat at Byerly's.

I wrote about it in poem form, and I considered printing it that way, but then I thought back to being in 7th grade when I got turned on to "The Hobbit."

OMG...I loved that book, and the Lord of the Rings trilogy that followed, but I got to be honest, when Tolkien starting dropping elven poems every other chapter, there was a couple times he almost lost me.

Klecko wanted adventure. Klecko wants dragons and ring wraiths, but most of all....Klecko was so into Gollum.

OK my precious, I am going to go against my better judgment,and present to you an epic event in poetic form. a moment that made me lose my innocence, not sexually, but emotionally.


A candidate to prep the salad bar - will exercise temperance and agility
Because when their shift starts - they are on their own

Sandman was Scandinavian - and gladly embraced this challenge
I can't remember if he was Finnish - or a Dane

He wore a paper hat - like Mel the cook on Alice
And his bangs deserved to be on the label of a paint can

His mustache was translucent - because his facial hair was blond
The line cooks feared - he was a pubescent Navajo

He greeted me each evening - as I stepped into my station
To receive instruction - from a dishwasher with down syndrome

The retard relinquished his apron - which was tattered,damp and soiled
But God forbid - that he would smoothly pass the torch

Sandman found this funny - and suggested that I embrace the irony
Because when again - would my bar be set so low

The two of us were friends - not because we had anything in common
Its just that everybody else - worked within well staffed departments

We usually shared our time in silence - because we didn't know what to say
And that was better than feeling like an outcast

8 p.m. was break time - So we'd usually go upstairs
Where our vices were satisfied with Caesar's and cigarettes

After half a year of this routine - the repetition altered
When the Sandman steered me from my primary course

Instead of chilling plates - I was pulled into the pantry
Where he drew his wallet from his checkered pants

And in its secret compartment - that place you stash your condom
Rest a neatly folded - newspaper article

As I pulled it to my sight line - my friend didn't move a muscle
Who knows how long he plotted to witness my reaction

The headline reeked of violence - I have long since blocked it out
The story was descriptive - but held it's clarity

Sandman was the focal point - I guess his girlfriend too
Its just that I had never met her - or even knew that she existed

In a high school parking lot - the couple sat alone
In a station wagon that was held together with some rust

No other cars were present - the emptiness was vast
In the twilight the two exchanged perceptions of their future

Then seemingly out of nowhere - a loner somehow surfaced
Like a genie does in certain comic strips

Under the pretense of inconvenience - the victim of an empty gas tank
The stranger expressed his need for a Good Samaritan

Sandman's legacy submerged - the second he unlocked the door
And the stranger crawled inside with evil thoughts

The antagonist pulled a pistol - and slumped into the back seat
While the kids collected their valuables to offer ransom

"You can keep your coin" - insisted the intruder
"What I need is for you to disrobe that b****"

Sandman offered protest - and didn't fear the bullet
But the barrel was pressed against his girl friends throat

He prayed for intervention - for someone to pass by
But destiny - doesn't always align with virtue

When the girl became completely naked - the kids awaited instructions
That - was the part that the intruder enjoyed the most

"Listen up you two -I'm not going to touch her
As long as you take her while I watch"

The kids displayed their virginity - on a most unfortunate stage
When the act became complete the culprit left

According to the paper - this case was never solved
This made me wonder - what deemed such dreadful events to be news worthy

When I handed the article back - my present thoughts were at a loss
Because I was chaste - and couldn't completely fathom the violation

I could only offer sympathy - or forge a weak resolution
But I really don't think either was expected

I refolded the article - and stared into my friends eyes
While he placed this tragedy back into it's leather vault

Now that 35 years have passed - if I think with all my might
I don't remember a single moment with Sandman after that

I'm sure we carried on - as if the confession never happened
A procedure that's all to common with young men


  1. This is frighteningly well told. The couplets slow the story down and give it form, but they don't get in the way.

    The story is ghastly -- surprising he could bring himself to show you. It sounds almost like a repressed person's fantasy.

    By the by, you probably want to say fathom, not phantom, 5 couplets back.

  2. LOL......thanks for the spelling lesson. As I got older, I wondered if Sandman was in on it. I watched FBI shows, and movies....people who commit violent crimes often keep souvenirs, and I couldn't imagine how a victim would keep a thing like that, but by virtue of the fact that I was 14 and still "innocent" I guess I relized that the crime was awful, but now that I look back....ghastly.
    Nest post will offer hope....promise.