Posted by Baron Greenback [68.99.161.106 - ip68-99-161-106.hr.hr.cox.net] on 21 March 2003 at 01.23.48 ZuluTime:

I came real, real close to murder this week. I should have went ahead and done the deed, but it would be too close to doing my job, something I actively avoid at all costs.

I lost everything in one fill swoop this week. Literally. Let me start at the beginning.

So, I'm at a hotel. My friend payed for the room, which was extremely cheap because they love taking advantage of us Navy folks in Norfolk. Basically, every place here will give you a "Navy Discount" on any up-front service, then overcharge when you want anything above or beyond. Which was fine, because I wasn't paying for any of the alcohol. I decided, in an act of foolishness, to check my ATM account anyway. When I discovered that my account was short approxamitaly $250. About the amount I had planned on sending back for rent.

I downed two Coronas.

I called the bank. I asked what the hell was going on. They told me a video store in Chicago thought that it was just fine and dandy to go and financially rape me without so much as a bill, phone call, or an I love you.

I ordered a zombie, and downed a Guinness.

I went back up to my room, and called the video store. Apparently, I had rented two movies, and never returned them. I had no recollection of renting said movies, but my roommate in school up there had apparently "borrowed" my video card, and gotten permission to use it somehow.

I sipped the zombie.

I decided to get plastered.

After a long night, after which I remember opening a window and telling two twelve years across the alley from the room to get naked and throw furniture, or rather yelling it at them, then going downstairs and getting them in trouble with their parents, and something involving showing a monopoly "get out of jail free" card to an actual officer of the law, and various other events I'm at a loss to recall in detail. It was orange.

So, the next day. I go to work. I feel fantastic. I don't get hangovers; I just feel absolutely fantastic for about five hours. Which pisses me off to no end.

I get off work. My car, which was loaned to me by a rich uncle for a month, decided to overheat. In Chesapeake. In "the hood".

I leave the car, and go into a seven-elleven.

I return, minus one cellphone.

I return to the room, grab the last of the Newcastles, and sleep until room service comes in and starts complaining about all the various colored towels in the pizza boxes surrounding the bed that was apparently mine.

I went back to work.

Where, I discovered someone noticed me locking up my gamecube in a locker, and thought it would be fun to own a gamecube. There was other stuff in the locker, but that was all that I really cared about.

I almost killed someone. Almost. But, I still had a book. A good book, and a bed. And cig-

Whoops. Those were in my locker.