Archive for the ‘south florida’ Category

CEO at my house

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It was too early in the morning as the phone rang and my grandmother picked it up and walked up the stairs (even though she doesn’t live with me). I was sleeping with my wife. My grandmother had a concerned look on her face like the telephone call was important, and told me it was my boss’s first name. Of course, I didn’t put two-and-two together since CEO never calls me. Never. So my mind flashbacked to my childhood, where I had a playmate by the same first name.

I answered: it was CEO on his cell phone, so he sounded like a radio caller. And he was angry. And it was before the sun had risen.

“Bart Barton called. He said the test was wrong.”

I remained patient and silent. Let him talk, I know I followed the directions. CEO continued:

“First, you indexed it wrong. Okay? It’s indexed wrong- the whole thing.”

“The whole thing?” I asked in feint disbelief.

“Yeah, and second..secondly, wait lemme check my notes here. Yeah, why did you index the page counter? Captain Software II is here and he said we didn’t have to index the page numbers.”

Okay, NOW I was angry because Cap. Soft. (CSII) is a JERK and doesn’t know ANYTHING about this test. NOTHING. ZILCH. NADA. ZERO.

CEO: “You’d better come down here and redo it. Bart is in California so we have a 3 hour head start; he needs it redone today.”

I asked: “Okay, where are you?”

CEO: “Downstairs. Outside of the window.”

My wife was stirring, so I quietly walked down the stairs, and my house got a lot bigger and more expensive [since CEO is a status monger]. CSII was on my couch with a laptop and paperwork…he looked righteously indignant that I indexed it wrong.

The sun was up. I looked outside of the window and saw CEO on a golf cart with filthy super-rich older men and women. My first reaction: since when is there a golf course to the right of my house? Since when did all of these rich people move in? They really looked like the type of people Bruce Wayne hangs out with. CEO was flirting with a 60-year old woman. He fit right in.

When I let him in through my [conjured up] mansion doors, he and CSII proceeded to accuse and prosecute me, while I maintained my innocence by stepping through the facts. But then I lost my cool when CSII was so ignorant and cocksure. We almost came to blows, and CEO didn’t stop us. CS II’s face was so red- I had finally gotten him to fight back in front of the boss. He claimed he could wipe me out with one punch…I said come on, followed by a bunch of cuss words. Yeah, my hatred was boiling over, and so was his. it was loud. It was ugly.

Getting past the absurdity of the accusations, he tried to stop me from asking him in front of CEO: “Why can’t you just eliminate the page count field in the SQL database? Why can’t you just edit the data instead of me redoing the whole thing?”

He interrupted me three times after I began “What can’t-”. Before the fourth time I punched him.

Anyway, after things settled down, it was now 8:35AM and I told CEO I needed to take a shower before work. He said OK. My wife had been in another bathroom taking a long shower when all of this was happening, and now it was real late and I wasn’t ready for work thanks to CEO. In my mind I said, “Watch me get scolded for being late by CEO- because he’s going to FORGET he cause me to be late.”

When I went into the bathroom and put on the shower, the water wasn’t going down the drain, and the water level was up around my thighs. My wife knocked on the door and asked, “Hon, are you STILL in the shower?” I was embarrassed. “I just came in.” I looked atthe morning from the bathroom window and it looked like a “late morning”–late as in the sun was too high for me to see it since I spent most of my life in school or working during this time on weekdays.

Eventually the scene switched to Tamarac, at my grandmother’s condo. The cast was the same, though. CEO was the boss, he totally took over the house. I defered leadership to him. CEO was trying to get Bart on the phone. For some reason the time was 4:30AM, and dark. He was going through Bart’s receptionist, to tell Bart the good news: the project would be completed on time. While he was getting Bart, I had to urinate. I went into the bathroom and saw floaters. I urinated, and hoped Bart wouldn’t get on. I heard CEO calling my name and CSII’s. I couldn’t finish in time, and missed the meeting. CSII assured CEO that the project would make it thanks to his programming script.

Finally at the end of the dream, when CEO was calm, I told him that I thought CSII should have realized this at the beginning. He nodded slowly and deliberately and whispered, “I know…I know.”

Andre the Giant and Sean Brown

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I was in New York City…my partner was my childhood friend Sean Brown. Our ages were unknown- possibly in our teens, but it was clearly a reunion. We were at a shoe store, and Sean was flirting with the black girls running the shop. He was making progress. I wound up buying a camera because we we headed to see WrestleMania at the arena.

TRANSITION: I was in my mother’s closet in a New York/Florida Nexus. It was a small narrow closet. There was a vent in the closet door. I was secretly urinating in my open palm, but then I hear my mom looking for me [like when you are in the bathroom too long and your parent starts calling your name]. “Are you okay?” she asked. “Yes,” I replied. I moved to the other end of the closet, and urinated in my hand. I tasted it, and was suprised it was odorless and tasteless.

TRANSITION- back to New York…Sean and I had a great location at the wrestling arena: we were above the aisle where all the wrestlers come out. We were witnessing a battle royal featuring all the legends- and Andre the Giant looked right at me. I snapped a photo of him. Sean and I saw Terry Funk, Killer Kowalski, the Killer Bees, and other pro wrestlers.

Sean and I were then standing on a metal net (like at Yankee Stadium behind home plate). I was peering through a hole to get the best picture when Sean knocked my Yankee hat down to the arena floor. I felt embarrassed and angry because Sean exposed by bald spot and I lost my hat permanently. I was burning up, and stopped taking pictures. I froze like a statue and felt my blood pressure rise.

“I’m done,” I thought.

I overheard a fan say that he heard the British Bulldogs asked Greg the Hammer Valentine to be part of Vince McMahon’s WWE Legend Tour. I knew Davey Boy Smith was dead, and Dynamite Kid was crippled, but didn’t say anything.

Dream: Cockroach, School bus

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I was back in Brooklyn, New York, in my childhood home, in one of my favorite places- the living room. I had a corner where I kept my wrestlers, He-Man toys, and GI JOE action figures.

I tried to turn the light off, but the switch was stuck. I looked closely and saw a cockroach’s (more like a palmetto bug) leg twitching around behind the switch. To me, that meant that this sucker was big.

I was so scared. I jumped back, and saw another one burrowing in my sack of toys.

FEAR.

I ran away, grabbed some insect spray and attacked them. The bugs charged me, but I was fast and sprayed them directly. After some time, they began to shrink, and died. They didn’t look big anymore. I guess I shouldn’t have been that fearful.

My grandparents came out to see the commotion, so I told them the story, but described it as a dream.

Transition: It was around 6:00 AM and looked dark. It was time to go to high school. There was a delay, and I think a lot of students missed their regular bus, and some routes had to be combined, although this was not implicitly said in the dream.

Anyway, an officer directed us on the bus. I felt odd because the bus was usually filled when I boarded. But now I had a choice to sit wherever I wanted. I didn’t know if each class had assigned seats, and I was afraid to sit in the wrong spot. I also felt rushed since everyone was boarding.

I actually sat in the back seat in the right-hand side corner, even though it was forbidden for a white boy to sit there on any other day; I was surrounded by older seniors, who has already claimed their spots- African American guys.

FEAR.

I nonchalantly sat down, tried my best to look out the window and avoid eye-contact. They looked at me, but didn’t say anything. I was happily surprised. As more and more seats up front were being taken, I was praying that none of “them” would forcibly remove me.

FEAR.

Some weird white chick sat next to me…she was in “special-ed”, I think. She was blabbering away about going to camp. I was being polite and nodding on cue.

Then this taller white teenager, who looked like he failed 12th grade, tried to sit in the back, and the black teens were yelling at him. This loser pointed his finger at me and said, “No FRESHMEN are supposed to be sitting here anyway!”

The retarded girl shouted and I both shouted at him: “F____ you! F____you!”

I called him a “traitor”, too.

Slight Transition:

We were going to camp. It was still dark out, my face glued to the window. I saw the dew drops, the sky, trees, and the asphalt streets. Was I in New York or Florida?

Queens. I was in Queens, NY..going to day camp, based on the highways and landmarks.

The bus pulled in behind a large office building. The bus transformed into a type of futuristic ferris wheel. I felt like a potato chips bag in an advanced robotic vending machine.

All of the seats of the bus were in open air. We were moving around the windows. I saw a corporate park and water fountain, with benches. I saw inside the windows- mostly women, shampoo, lingerie, lotions, feminine accessories everywhere. Some windows were opened.

I looked at some girls on the other flying seats; they were smiled. I could have reached in and stolen shampoo. The seat/ferris wheel was a little dizzy, I was swinging everywhere, and saw some women changing clothes. They looked at us, but didn’t really care and didn’t protect their items.

I was surprised by a voice.

FEAR.

A French waitress asked me what I wanted for my order. My order? She asked me if I wanted “pickle or pretzel”.

“Pickle.”

“I’m sorry? I didn’t say pickle. I said hook rug or (mumble).”

“Ah! Hook rug, then.”

“Hook rug? Are you a little boy?”

It’s for my mother, I thought, but I won’t tell you that.

I smiled.

Dr. Shapiro’s Hair Institute

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Anyone who has lived in sunny South Florida for awhile has heard the radio jingle for Dr. Shapiro’s Hair Institute. Quite frankly, it’s as catchy as a top 40 hit.

Well, I finally decided to check out his website. I’ve never been one who worries about getting a hair transplant, but my wife noticed the other day that my widow’s peak was getting a little more pronounced.

I always swore I would go the Bruce Willis route if I started losing hair … but, hey, it doesn’t hurt to do a little research first!

At any rate, I found great info about the hair transplant procedures on Dr. Shapiro’s website. He doesn’t employ high pressure sales tactics, he encourages prospective clients to speak with people who’ve done the procedure before, and he breaks down the pre-op and post-op process.

His website is really informative. For example, if you click on the Questions link at the top of the page, you’ll find info on what nutrients and supplements can contribute to baldness occurring!

From what I saw, Dr. Shapiro has a loyal staff. He’s experienced at what he does.

And … now he’s got a DrHair blog. I look forward to reading his insights.

If I ever decide to restore my hairline, I’ll be visiting Dr. Shapiro’s Hair Institute.

If you’re not in South Florida — don’t worry. On the Florida Locations link, it says that travel discounts are available!