Interview with Evil pt 2

Once again I have another exert from a story that I've been working on; which I am pleased to say is almost finished. Please enjoy and I apologize for my long absence.  

After seven grueling hours, three stopovers, an hour waiting in line at U.S customs for a cavity search that luckily never came (I'm a paranoid flier), and a tortuously hot cab ride through a Texan summer. I arrived at 2050 West Gray Street, which it turns out is a Starbucks, across from another Starbucks. Perhaps it was the stress that the ordeal of my hasty travel had brought on, or maybe it was the unbearable heat, but I felt like I had arrived at a place of power. Like a Ley Line ran right under my feet and straight through these two coffee shops that were separated by nothing more than four lanes of traffic.

     "It's nothing that fancy you know." A familiar ragged voice rang from behind me. "It's just two Starbucks across from one another."

     I turned quickly to be greeted by a visage of filth, a man as ragged as his voice sat before me, his clothes were tatters and a large dirty beard framed his greasy face. I struggled to speak but stumbled on my words, the unkempt man wasted no time interjecting,

     "Go on inside and get yourself something cold to drink, you'll get your interview." I hesitated trying to push out a response, "Go on now." The unkempt man gave me an order and despite his appearance and bearing I decided it best to listen.

     Only once I was inside the Starbucks ordering my iced venti Chai Tea Latte with an extra pump of Chai did it hit me that I was entirely insane for coming all the way from British Columbia to talk to a homeless man with dirty facial hair. I decided to leave quickly once I had my drink and put the Starbucks on 2050 West Gray Street, Houston, and the whole state of Texas behind me as soon as possible.

     This of course would never happen, that wouldn't make for a good story after all. Instead of making a quick get away I ended up being stopped by a familiar, sinister voice.

     "Going so soon? Didn't you want that interview?" The voice felt like it grabbed me by the collar and yanked me right around. Right around to face a grinning man shaved clean, only his raven black eyebrows were intact. His jutting chin shot out at me, and his sharp cheek bones made him look more skeleton than meat. He was wearing what appeared to be a suit of black and blood red worth more than I made last month, and his eyes were hidden behind a pair of dark rounded sun glasses. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up as I stared at him dumbly.

     "Go on outside, it's a beautiful day and I'd rather be out enjoying it during our little pow wow." The only response I could think up was a half hearted affirmation. We sat down outside, I felt the confusion scrawled across my face while I stared at the stranger sipping what appeared to be a steaming cup of coffee. I broke the silence.

     "What happened to-"

     "The disgusting homeless man who never heard of a comb?" I shook my head in response, "Gone."

     "Gone?"

     "Gone, I didn't need him anymore, so he's gone." The stranger spoke coldly.

     "Gone where? Did you do someth-"

     "Are we going to do this interview? You're not getting any younger after all. And you do have bills to pay; I'm also not the patient type, so it's in both our interests to get going." Something in the pit of my stomach churned and I knew that pursuing further into the fate of the bearded man was not wise. I quickly fumbled through my satchel and dug out my note book and pen.

     "First who are you? I mean the call I received-" The stranger interjected again.

     "I'm the devil." My stomach churning sense of fear made way for a brain tickling sense of disbelieve.

Interview with Evil

I decided to try out something new and post a short story I started writing a few days back, just a work in progress whose working title is Interview with Evil.

     People look to all sorts of sources for advice on how to live their lives properly and justly. They turn to inspirational speakers, media personalities, gurus, and religions. People ask themselves what would Jesus do? What did Oprah have to say again last night? And what were the ingredients in that cleanse that Dr. Oz was pushing last show?

     It's fairly common practice to look to sources of strong moral character for guidance, but I find we have as much to learn from the worst examples as well. The alcoholic at the bar, the wife beater who we read about in the paper, and the politician who becomes embroiled in scandal. All can teach us something.

     With this idea in mind I set out to find an individual who could give me evil's slant on the moral compass, with the intended end of taking something positive away from an extreme negative example. I ended up going to prisons across the country searching for someone who could fill the roll of "expert on evil". It all proved futile however, either the individuals I talked to were too crazy to follow my line of questioning, or they just looked like animals in a cage following some sick instinct. I wondered, where are all the evil geniuses you see on crime shows that take investigators on a wild goose  through a maze of intrigue, depravity, and violence? I ended up cursing my stupidity for buying into the trite fictional world of the crime drama, and lost hope of ever finding my perfectly evil subject.

     However fate didn't intend for me to trash this topic, it yearned for me to succeed, and to facilitate this I received a strange phone call no more than an hour after I had sat down to brainstorm new ideas. The voice on the other end was ragged, worn out and it said,

     "If you want your interview, go to 2050 West Gray street in Houston Texas within twenty four hours. Look for the unkempt man with the beard."

     Before I could speak a word in response to these odd demands the caller quickly hung up. I was perplexed, curious, and somewhat compelled to follow through with the callers demands. Before I was ready to do anything however I had to know if it was some sick joke, so I dialed the number that had come up on the display, all I received was a message stating that the number I dialed was out of service. At that point I sat at my desk staring at the wall wondering just how crazy one would have to be to pursue such a lead all the way down to Texas. I decided I was just crazy enough.

Everything I can do she probably does better.

She's even better at drawing than I am.

My girlfriend beats me at everything. Even things that I thought I was good at, she beats me at. Hell she could probably even beat me up. 

Things she does better than me:

- Shooting hoops, I blame my depth perception

- Wrestling, I swear I'm not letting her win

- Origami, this one hurts because it's in the my blood.

- Rock Band, I own it and suck at it, best 150 dollars I've ever spent

- Racing games, even when she manages to hit the wall dozens of times.

- Tanning and she's Dutch.

- Braiding hair (I'm sensitive about this one)

- Going around in circles really fast

- She's better at formatting paragraphs on her blog, or she would be if she had a blog.

That's a lot of stuff right there, why it's almost everything! At the very least it's the stuff that is very important in life. So because I am becoming utterly and totally depressed reading out that list I've decided to make a list of things that I know I am good at and take particular pride in.

Things that I am good at:

This cat has nothing on me in the napping department.

- I'm good at charades, hell I'm the John Rambo of charades.

- Napping, I kill at napping.

- Eating, I'm eating right now.

- Lounging around, I am a master at sitting on my ass.

- Asking where the washroom is in French, I never ever am lacking for a washroom when I stay in Quebec.

I guess the lesson to be learned here is that you can't be good at everything but everyone's good at something, or that no matter how well you do their is always someone better so don't try.