| A Chance Meeting, at Burton Park
Last night, Los Angeles, CA
Its 8:00pm PDT Thursday night, Chebosto and Turbo95Max are chilling at a Chebosto’s apartment watching ESPN’s Thursday Nite Match Up between Marshall U. and the Temple Owls. Woohoo. What a game.
Chebosto: “These two teams really suck. Why do they even bother wasting the bandwidth to put games like this on the air?”
Turbo95Max: “No doubt, what a snoozer. What’s there to do?”
Chebosto: “We could surf the BBS.”
Turbo95Max: “Nah. That scene is old. It would just be JimW and Woodear arguing about some crap.”
Chebosto (swigs on his Bud): “True….true.”
The phone rings, Chebosto is closest to it, so he grabs the receiver.
Chebosto: “Sup?”
Sales Person on the other end: “Good evening, could I speak with Cheston please?”
Chebosto: “This is Cheston.”
Turbo95Max looks at him with a curious look.
Sales Person: “Oh, hello Cheston, this is Mark calling from MCI, and I’d like to tell how we can lower your monthly long distance b…..”
Before she can finish, Chebosto jumps in with a sales pitch of his own.
Chebosto: “Hi Mark – say, how’d you like to upgrade to a UPRD ECU?!!”
Sales Person: “Ahhh,….huh?”
Chebosto: “A UPRD ECU – engine control unit! They’re great! It only takes about 48 hours and you’ll be in the mix – big time!”
Sales Person (caught off guard & thoroughly perplexed): “Well I….ahhh…what’s it for?”
Chebosto: “Its for you CAR! I’ve put together a deal and I can get you one for cheap.”
Sales Person: “Really, how much?
Chebosto: “Under five hundred dollars! It’ll give you thirty more horsepower!”
Sales Person: “Thirty horsepower! Wow. That sounds like a lot. Hmmmm. Was that measurement taken on a Clayton Dyno, or a….”
With that Chebosto becomes enraged! Before the sales rep can finish his sentence Chebosto goes crazy and starts screaming into the phone.
Chebosto: “WHAT THE HELL DIFFERENCE DOES IT MAKE WHAT KIND OF DYNO IT WAS?!!! YOU PIECE OF TRASH! WHAT DO YOU THINK, THAT THEY USED SOME ARTIFICAL…..”
Turbo95Max jumps off the sofa and snatches the phone out of Chebosto’s hand, he hangs it up onto the receiver & begins trying to calm his friend down.
Turbo95Max: “Take it easy bro. Its just a sales call.”
Chebosto: “I’m SICK of everybody always saying that….”
Turbo95Max (using a soothing, patronizing tone): “I know, I know,….there, there….it’ll all be alright, just calm doooown. Breath…..deep breaths….eeeeasy…”
A few minutes later, Chebosto has calmed down
Turbo95Max: “What’s the “Cheston” crap?”
Chebosto: “Crap?! That’s my NAME! Why?”
Turbo95Max: “Your name?? What were you, named after a lake or something?”
******
This morning, New York, NY
*riiing, riiiing*
The phone on John Brodsky’s desk is ringing. He grabs it on the second ring.
John B: “Creative Services For Hire, Brodsky speaking.”
Voice on other end: “Yeh, John – I’ve got a new assignment for you.”
John B: “Whaaat!? C’mon Harry, I’m three weeks behind on the last shoot, I’ve got about a dozen undeveloped rolls sitting around here, deadline for the National Geographic piece that I shot last month is noon on Monday AND my dog’s sick. Cut me a break, will ya?”
Voice: “Listen, tell your sob stories to somebody who cares, ok? I’ve got a hot shoot that the bosses want done THIS weekend, we’ve got to go to press by next Wednesday on this one. I’ve got the names of three photo journalists that I’m going to shop the job by, because of our past, I called you first. It pays seven grand plus expenses, but it has to be done by Sunday – you want the gig or not?”
John B: “Seven grand? Wow. What’s the catch?”
Voice: “Its in California.”
JohnB: “WHAT?!?? California?”
Voice: “I’m holding one round trip, business class ticket from JFK to LA X in my hand right now. It leaves at 12 o’clock this afternoon, will you be on it or not?”
JohnB: “Oh you’ve GOT to be kidding me!! What is this, a shake down or something? So we were partners once – big deal, what is this? You know I can’t….”
Voice: “Seven thousand dollars, either you want ‘em or you don’t. I’ve got to give Marcia an update in fifteen minutes.”
There’s a long pause in the conversation and the sound of some papers ruffling as JohnB checks his various calendars. A minute later:
JohnB: “Ok, ok. I’ll do it. For crying out loud, I hate this free lance crap – when ‘er you guys just going to make me permanent staff?”
Voice: “You know I have no control over that.”
JohnB: “Yeh, yeh. Well which magazine is this shoot for?”
Voice: “Low Rider.”
JohnB: “Low Rider? You’re sending me all the out to California to shoot some hacked up pick up truck?”
Voice: “Yes. And the centerfold spread.”
JohnB: “Woohooo!! Now we’re getting someplace! Gotta love them California hardbodies! Who’s the model?”
Voice: “Oh, I forgot to mention – ahhh, we haven’t exactly secured her for the job yet.”
JohnB: “What?!”
Voice: “Marcia bought a photo off the internet from some guy with a shot of the girl’s….er…you know what, in it. She likes the look & wants you to contact the girl and talk her into the shoot. Shouldn’t be too tough.”
JohnB: “So says you! What if she won’t do it?”
Voice: “Then you don’t go to California and don’t get the seven grand.”
JohnB: “This just keeps getting better all the time.”
Voice: “Aww stop yer crying. If you want me to keep schlepping you the usual six hundred dollar jobs, have you chasing Dennis Leary all across Manhattan at two in the morning, I’ll be happy to oblige. You got a pencil?”
JohnB: “Yeh, go ahead.”
Voice: “The name is Sarah91SE. 916-555-1991. Got it.”
JohnB: “Got it. I’ll call you back if I get anything.”
*click*
*** *** *** *** ***
Last night, Los Angeles, CA
Turbo95Max: “Are you calmed down now?”
Chebosto: “Yeh, I’m fine. Its just that these stinking dyno numbers…”
Turbo95Max: “Don’t go there, dude. Just let it go. Why don’t you think about something else for a while.”
Chebosto: “Like what?”
Turbo95Max: “I don’t know, anything. New mods for your car, Buttonwillow next week, changing your sig, anything.”
Chebosto (picking up on something he said): “What do you mean, changing my sig?”
Turbo95Max: “Well, you gotta admit “The One and Only Moving Salad Bar” is kind of lame.”
Chebosto: “I think its funny, I’m making fun of my own ricey-ness. You’ve gotta admit, that thing is pretty big. I could easily use it for a salad bar.”
Haaaaaaaa
The two share a good laugh. Then Turbo95Max, entrepreneur that he is, gets to thinking about it.
Turbo95Max: “You know, you may be onto something. Why not?”
Chebosto: “Why not what?”
Turbo95Max: “Why not sell salad off the back of your car?”
Chebosto: “WHAT?! What in the world are you talking about?”
Turbo95Max: “Think about it, we could make a killing! Just like those roach coaches that go to all the construction sites around lunch time! Same thing!”
Chebosto: “Are you completely nuts or something?”
Turbo95Max: “Not at all. Think about it. We could hit the parks and beaches, where people don’t want stale old hot dogs and stuff. A nice fresh salad for lunch at the beach – it’s a perfect fit! We could go down to the farmers markets in the morning, buy lettuce and stuff, mix up the salads, put it on that big ‘ole wing of yours & hit the beaches! We’ll make a million dollars! What’da ya say?”
Chebosto: “I say that you’re a basket case. We can’t go around doing that. There all kinds of licensing requirements and stuff, we’ll get busted.”
Turbo95Max: “Busted how? You’ve got that URPD ECU now – remember? No cop can catch us.”
Chebosto: “Say, that’s right.”
Turbo95Max: “So how about it? We get up tomorrow morning and head down to the farmers market? You in?”
Chebosto: “Aww, what the hell – I’m in.”
*** *** *** ***
This morning, Sacramento, CA
Sarah91SE is getting ready to leave for a weekend visiting friends and relatives near LA. The weather in SoCal is supposed to be sunny and 80 (as usual) and she can’t wait. She just finishing packing some “night out” clothes, when the phone rings.
Sarah91SE: “Hello?”
JohnB: “Good morning, may I speak to Sarah91SE, please.”
Sarah91SE: “This is she.”
JohnB: “Oh, ahhh….hi Sarah, my name is John Brodsky.”
Sarah91SE: “How can I help you?”
JohnB: “Well, I’m a free lance photographer out of New York, and I want to talk to you about a possible photo shoot.”
Sarah91SE: “WHAAAT?!? Photo shoot?”
JohnB: “Yes, you see, the circumstances here are kind of strange but ahhh… Well, one of the print houses that I frequently work for is also the publisher of Low Rider Magazine. It seems that the editor of Low Rider somehow came across a photograph of you, part of you at least, off the internet.”
Sarah91SE: “Booker!! Why that weasel!”
JohnB (continuing despite the interruption): “She, the editor that is, would like to feature you in an upcoming issue of the magazine.”
Sarah91SE: “Well I NEVER, in all of my life, have been so insulted! When I get my hands on that Booker, ooooo, I’m gonna…! Who in their right mind…”
Sarah91SE is about to hang up on the photographer, sensing this, JohnB makes a desperation play.
JohnB: “The magazine will typically pay up to twenty thousand cash for a full lay out.”
Silence.
JohnB: “Hello? Hello? Sarah? Hello?”
.
..
…
Sarah91SE: “Would you mind repeating that?”
*** *** *** *** ***
This morning, Los Angeles, CA
Turbo95Max is up early. He ran by the ATM and grabbed a few hundred bucks, then over to Chebosto’s place. Chebosto was waiting for him.
Chebosto: “You ready?”
Turbo95Max: “Yup.”
Chebosto: “Let’s do it then.”
The two hop into Chebosto’s car and make a bee line for the farmers market. Upon arrival they jump out and begin inspecting produce.
Chebosto: “Man, look at all of this stuff. Where do we start?”
Turbo95Max: “How should I know, I’ve never even made a salad in my life. I guess we could ask somebody.”
Chebosto: “Good idea.”
The two casually walk over to one of the vendors who’s standing behind a booth loaded with vegetables and fruit.
Turbo95Max: “Excuse me, we’re looking to make salad. A whole lot of salad, can you give us any pointers?”
Vegetable Vendor: “I can do better than that, look here.”
With that, the vendor points the two around to the side of the booth, where he has ten large bins, filled with ready made salads.
Vegetable Vendor: “Just pick the one you want, we sell it by the pound. Caesar, tossed, house with peppers, house with broccoli spears, we’ve got ‘em all. All cleaned, tossed and washed – ready to eat. No need to chop a single thing”
The two get huge grins on their faces. This is great!
Vegetable Vendor: “How much ya need?”
Chebosto: “Hmmm, I guess we never really thought about that.”
Vegetable Vendor: “Well….how many people you planning on feeding?”
Chebosto: “Hadn’t thought of that either.”
Turbo95Max: “Let’s say about a hundred (looks at Chebosto) That should be good for the first day.”
Vegetable Vendor: “One hundred people? I’d say that twenty five pounds ought to cover it. Which’ll it be?”
Turbo95Max: “How about the house with croutons?”
Chebosto: “Yeh, that sounds good.”
Vegetable Vendor: “Twenty five pounds of house croutons, coming up.”
With that, the man grabs a huge set of tongs and a plastic bin and begins scooping away.
Vegetable Vendor: “With purchases of ten pounds or more, we give you a couple a pounds of tomatoes and cucumbers for free, you want ‘em?”
Turbo95Max: “Sure.”
Vegetable Vendor: “Ok then, where do I load the stuff?”
Chebosto takes off for the Maxima.
Turbo95Max: “He’ll be right back with the car.”
Vegetable Vendor: “Ok.”
A minute later, Chebosto backs the Nissan up to the booth. He stops with the rear bumper just a few feet away from the Vendor and his scooper. Chebosto hops out.
Chebosto: “There you go.”
Vendor: “There I go, what?”
Chebosto: “Just go ahead and load ‘er up, right there.” (points to wing)
Vendor: “On that big shelf? What is that, a picnic table that you’ve bolted to your trunk, or something?”
Turbo95Max can’t help but to break out laughing.
Chebosto: “That’s not a shelf and its not a picnic bench! Its my spoiler!”
Vendor: “Oh, sorry for the mistaken identity – its just that its so big and all.”
Chebosto: “Just go ahead.”
Vendor: “You really mean it? Just load ‘er up, right there?”
Chebosto: “I really mean it.”
Vendor: “Alrighty then.”
The vegetable man gets busy. Chebosto & Turbo95Max are busting! They can’t wait!
Turbo95Max: “Man, this is going to be great! We’re gonna get PAID!”
Chebosto: “No doubt. This is the best idea you’ve ever had.”
A few minutes later the vendor has loaded the salad, tomatoes and cucumbers onto the spoiler, they’ve paid him & they’re on their way.
Turbo95Max: “Woo, freak’n, hoo! Venice Beach, here we come!”
*** *** *** ***
JohnB: “What I said was, the magazine will pay up to twenty large for a good shoot.”
Sarah91SE: “Really? Hmmmm. What’s involved in this shoot? I don’t have to be naked or anything, do I?”
JohnB: “No, no. Of course not. Just a swim suit usually. We’ll be in an outdoor location and you’ll be paired with the Low Rider of the Month. A fifty five Chevy this time, I think.”
Sarah91SE is having 2000 Maxima SE visions dancing in her head. “Twenty Grand!” Wow!
Sarah91SE: “Well, when and where would this be?”
JohnB: “Well, that’s the tough part, you see, I’m under deadline for Monday – it would have to be this weekend.”
Sarah91SE: “Oh, well then I’m afraid its impossible, I’m going to LA this weekend. I already have my tickets and everything.”
JohnB: “Wait a minute, aren’t you IN LA?”
Sarah91SE: “No I live in Sacramento, about 400 miles from there.”
JohnB: “Well then this is great! Based on the photo of you, they thought that you lived in Los Angeles. My ticket this afternoon is to LA X, I arrive at 3:30 California time.”
(his strange comment dawns on Sarah91SE)
Sarah91SE: “What do you mean, “based on the photo”?”
JohnB: “Heh. Aaah, well the photo was just of a portion of you that’s, well, sort of famous for being from LA. You know, silicon and all.”
Sarah91SE (furious again): “I’VE NEVER HAD A SURGERY IN MY LIFE!”
JohnB (back peddling, fast): “Oh, I’m sure that you haven’t. I didn’t mean that – I just meant that’s how they bought plane tickets there, that’s all.”
Sarah91SE: “Whatever.”
JohnB: “So anyway, I’ll have the swim suit that they’d like to use with me, can we meet at around, say, 4:30? The truck owner gave me directions to a park where we’re doing the shoot, its called BURTON PARK, you got a pen or something?”
Sarah91SE: “Yeh, go ahead.”
JohnB: “Ok, from I-405 South, you exit at Marina Del Rey Blvd., take a left…..
*** *** *** *** ***
This morning, I-405, westbound
Turbo95Max (from the passenger seat, looking backwards out the rear windshield): “Everything looks fine. We haven’t lost a scrap. It works, I can’t believe it!”
Unbelievable indeed. The two are blasting down Interstate 405, doing 70 miles per hour in the diamond lane – with twenty five pounds of salad, a case of tomatoes and cucumbers, sitting on that huge rear spoiler – still intact. Not a bit of it has hit the ground.
Chebosto: “Boy, just wait until those idiots on the BBS find out about this! I’m going to make enough bank to buy ECU’s for everybody!”
The two are drawing plenty of strange stares from other drivers on the freeway. Its not everyday you see a lowered Maxima, sporting a huge rear spoiler with salad for 100 on it. Other drivers are likewise stunned that the stuff isn’t falling off all over the place. People are pointing and gaping like mad. This is truly and original sight.
Turbo95Max: “You know, if more people knew about the capabilities of that spoiler, auto makers wouldn’t be able to sell any pickup trucks at all!”
Baaaahahahaha!!!
The two share a laugh, suddenly Chebosto has a thought.
Chebosto: “What about drinks, shouldn’t we sell some drinks or something? Its like 85 degrees today.”
Turbo95Max: “Good call. Pull off up here on Magnolia, there’s a grocery store just about a block up.”
The two rumble up the heavily pot holed road, still not losing a single leaf of lettuce. Pedestrians on the sidewalk are aghast. Chebosto swings the Maxima into the parking lot of the supermarket.
Turbo95Max: “You stay here with the stuff, I’ll run in and buy a case or two of bottled water.”
Chebosto: “Ok.”
As Chebosto is waiting for Turbo95Max to return, a lady in the parking lot can’t resist coming over and asking what’s with the Wing’o Salad.
Lady: “Excuse me. I just have to ask….why do you have all that stuff on top of the back of your car?”
Chebosto (beaming): “Its my buddy & I’s entrepreneurial idea. We’re going to head down to Venice beach and be salad vendors. People down there are real health conscious you know.”
Lady: “Really?”
Chebosto: “Yup!”
Lady: “But how are you going to get the stuff down there?”
Chebosto: “We’re going to drive it, of course.”
Lady: “Just like that? I mean, shouldn’t you get some ropes or bungee cords and secure the stuff to the car? Won’t it all fall off.”
Chebosto: “Not a chance. We came all the way down here from the farmers markets near Anaheim without a problem.”
Lady: “Wow. That’s amazing. But what about refrigeration? Its what (checks her wrist watch) close to 3 o’clock now and pretty hot out.”
Chebosto: “Good grief, I never even thought about that!”
Chebosto quickly hops out of the car and bolts to the spoiler. Sure enough, some of the lettuce is starting to wilt already.
Chebosto: “Awww, man!”
Turbo95Max returns with a case of 16 ounce Calistoga water bottles. He tosses and case of water up onto the spoiler right along side the case of tomatoes and cucumbers. He notices Chebosto nervously eyeing the salad.
Turbo95Max: “What’s up?”
Chebosto: “Dude, its 80 some degrees out here and we have a bunch of lettuce sitting in the hot sun. The stuff is wilting.”
Turbo95Max: “Holy unforeseen circumstances, Batman! Its another 45 minutes to get down to the beach from here, we’ll never make it! What do we do? I don’t want to see our company go under before we get stared good!”
*** *** *** *** ***
Los Angeles International Airport
John Brodsky’s flight arrived twenty minutes early, 3:10pm. Perfect. With no baggage checked, Brodsky was able to run down to the Hertz counter, pick up the keys to a brand spanking new Chevy Cavalier, and is en route to BURTON PARK by 3:30. Having told Sarah91SE to meet him there by 4:30, the plan is coming together with clock work precision. He’s got nearly an hour to complete a less than 30 minute drive. Even if there’s traffic, he’ll still be there in plenty of time.
*** *** *** *** ***
Huntington Beach, CA
Sarah91SE’s Friend: “I can’t BELIEVE that you’re actually going to do this!”
Sarah91SE: “Hey, its twenty thousand big ones! For a few pictures? Why not? No one actually reads this lame-o magazine anyway. I’ll be back in time for dinner, ok?”
With that, Sarah91SE takes off for BURTON PARK.
*** *** *** *** ***
Los Angeles, CA
Chebosto: “You’re right man, we’ll NEVER make it down the Venice now. This stuff will go bad for sure. Nobody is going to buy a wilted lettuce salad. We need a new plan, quick! Let’s roll.”
The two jump back into Chebosto’s car and get back onto the interstate. Just resting on that massive rear wing, the case of water is staying put right next to the cucumbers. Chebosto isn’t even slowing down around the corners. He runs the Max to redline on the 180 degree clover leaf on ramp, and doesn’t lose a thing!
Chebosto: “What are we going to do?”
Turbo95Max: “I don’t know, I’m thinking man, I’m thinking.”
The two ride in silence for another couple of miles. As they approach a road sign, Turbo95Max bolts upright in his seat.
Turbo95Max (pointing at the sign): “That’s it, that’s it!!”
Chebosto: “That’s what? WHAT?”
Turbo95Max points right at the sign: “I know about that place, its supposed to be huge, lots of people go there, there’s supposed to be a pond with biking and hiking trails and stuff. We can sell the salads there & hit the beach some other time. Pull in there.”
Chebosto: “Ok, what’ve we got to lose”
Chebosto eyes the sign as the blast by at 80 MPH: BURTON PARK, NEXT EXIT
To be continued….
__________________
Brought to you by, theBooker.
96SE 5 spd (of course) with a bunch of mods. One & 1/2 beautiful children and a loving wife. Blessed beyond measure from above. The same guy who used to write all those crazy stories.
Before you criticize another man, walk a mile in his shoes. That way, if he gets mad over your criticism he'll be a mile away and barefoot. |
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10-13-2000 11:21 AM