mcgrew's Journal: The Alien's Return

My cell phone rang this morning - it was my good friend John. Tami had made plans to stay there, but couldn't stand being around his and his wife's kids, and wound up at my house instead. When Patty came home she stayed a night at Allen's, then at her boyfriend's.

I silenced the ringer and called him back from my desk phone, and got his voilce mail. I left a message that I saw he called, and gave him my desk number. He called back.

"Do you know where Tami is?"

"I haven't seen her for a few days, but she's probably at her boyfriend's".

"Guess who's here? Harley!"

I wrote about Harley before, but I'd changed his name to "Pedro". I find it amusing that a whoremonger like Harley has a friend whose name is Jorge -- in Spanish "Jorge" is pronounced "whore hay".

Have you heard the Walt Disney crackwhore song? "High ho', High ho', it off to work she go..."

Harley is the alien. He's in the Illinois National Guard and has been in Afghanistan getting shot at.

"I saw his car outside," John said, "and thought 'no, that can't be him'. But it was! Do you have a phone number over there?"

I gave him Tami's BF's number and hung up.

An hour later there was a knock at my office window -- it was Tami. I went outside, and she was red-eyed with tears coming down. She was holding a satchel she wanted to put in my car.

Harley now wants a divorce, it seems.

"He said he'd give me two thousand dollars if I'd divorce him. I told him 'five' and he's not getting his documents without it. He's gone through your garage..." a lot of Tami's as well as other folks' stuff is in my garage, "so would you put this inside so he can't get it?

If I catch that damned alien in my garage, he's going to jail. It wouldn't be the first time I called the law on him.

I'm sure this is "to be continued..."