A Plan, A Trap, and A Scheme
Mark was laughing so hard he was choking on his beignet. I could see puffs of white powder coming out of his nose. It wasn’t the first time.
“And you give ME shit!”
“Hey, with me, I don’t find out they’re married until AFTER I hook up with them! And then I end it immediately.”
“Trust me, it’s not that bad. You get used to it.”
“Says Mr. LAPD that doesn’t need to worry about vengeful husbands because he has the whole force behind him.”
“That is a perk.”
“You’re an asshole, you know that?”
“Yes, but an asshole that’s going to help you out. Have you tried the banana pudding yet?”
“That’s real bourbon in it, isn’t it?”
“Fuck yeah!”
“Yeah, that’s damn good. Who the fuck would expect a New Orleans restaurant in the middle of Chinatown?”
“Right? Okay, so here’s my idea on how to snag this guy and shut this operation down.”
Mark laid out the trap he wanted to set. In essence, now that he knew who and what we were looking for, he could get wiretaps, warrants, and surveillance. We would be able to gather enough evidence to make a play. If this all went right, Mark would get an office in City Hall.
I took a swig of the Abita.
“How long do you think it will take?”
“Beats me. Are they running low on bodies?”
“Fuck if I know. Wait, does that mean…?”
“Don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answers to.”
“You’re right. So, what do I do about Destiny?”
“Don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answers to.”
***
Lunch had been productive, but it did not make me feel any better. The case was progressing nicely, but I was more troubled than ever. The girl I had fallen in love with was married and that didn’t stop her from playing footsie with me under the table and playing squash with my head.
She had texted me asking about the Rangers game. I told her I would check to see if I could get tickets. She wanted glass seats, but 100 level would do. Beautiful, smart, fearless, and expensive. She was just my type. Except for the married thing.
I had not responded back to her as I was not sure what I wanted to do. I was caught in a pickle. The investigation was still on-going, so I couldn’t exactly disappear from her life and jeopardize the case. At the same time, I was increasingly uncomfortable with going out to a hockey game with a Mrs.
The tickets were easily sorted. I do have friends in high and low places. I finally decided it was in my best interest to continue to see her. Maybe it was my penis that decided. In any case, I trust him. He hasn’t let me down yet.
As per usual, and now that I think about it, painfully obvious, we met outside the arena in front of the Wayne Gretzky statue. She looked stunning. Mind you, girls in general look great dressed up for hockey games, but she took it to another level. Part of me was wondering why I left the bulletproof vest at home.
We walked in and walked down to our seats. I was hoping her husband wasn’t a Kings fan because I was sure the TV cameras would zoom in on the hot blonde banging on the glass when there was a scrum in the corner. If he was a Rangers fan, well, we’d already beat them for one Stanley Cup, so maybe that boded well for me?
At the second intermission and after two beers, I finally worked up the courage to ask her.
“Why don’t you wear a ring?”
“I don’t like rings.”
Appropriately evasive. Really smart.
“Never worn one?”
“Why don’t you spit out what you are really trying to say, pretty boy?”
Shit. I’d been downgraded to pretty again.
“Eve’s dad told me you’re married.”
“Yeah. And?”
“Twice?”
“And?”
“And your first husband is dead?”
“Are you worried I’m going to kill you?”
“No.”, I lied.
“You’re too pretty to kill. And no, I didn’t kill my first husband and no I’m not particularly attached to my second husband. And no, you won’t be my third.”
I felt somewhat better. Like when you’re hung over and you’re about to throw up and you feel it coming up but it stops halfway to your throat. You are happy that you didn’t puke, but it’s still there. Lingering, like a stale fart. Eventually, you get used to it.
“So, if I’m not husband #3, what exactly am I?”
“Well, you sound like a fucking girl right now. Can’t we just have fun and enjoy ourselves? May I remind you that we haven’t even slept together? You keep it up, we probably won’t.”
“Probably?”
“I’m all about second chances.”
She was right, of course. I was acting like a lovesick fool. The problem was that I didn’t know what I wanted. Ten days ago, my life was easy with no commitments, no concerns, and no feelings. Now, I was more emotional than a quinceañera whose dress hasn’t come back from the alteration shop and the party is in three hours.
I mentally slapped myself. Then I turned, grabbed her hips, pulled her into me, and kissed her on the lips. The horn sounded. The Kings took the lead, 1-0.
***
“I’m in deep waters, man.”
“You and me both. You won’t believe how far this goes.”
“How bad?”
“Bad. Like I can’t make any arrests bad.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah.”
“I guess we have to take things into our own hands.”
“What are you thinking?”
“How much evidence do you have?”
“Enough to convict. But, like I said, no one wants to touch this. It can’t become public.”
“Okay, here’s what we do.”
I laid out my plan.
“You’ll make the arrangements?”
“Yup. All you need to do is to show up and look pretty. Dress is business casual.”
“Good to know. I’ll wear my best holster.”
***
I was on hold for about ten minutes. Maybe he was in the jacuzzi? The pool? The toilet?
“Yes?”
“Good morning, sir! I was wondering if I could ask a favour?”
“What do you need?”
“Would it be too gauche to have another dinner party next weekend?”
“Should be alright. The guest list is not exactly high society, so no one should make a fuss.”
“I also have one more guest coming. My friend.”
“I take it we will get some resolution to the matter?”
“That’s the idea. I will need your assistance on a couple of things.”
I explained what I wanted him to do.
“Not a problem. See you Saturday.”
I hoped to be able to see Sunday too.
***
I can’t be exactly sure until about two/three weeks from now but I may have done a thing.
If it comes to fruition I’ll have protected 45 jobs and be able to tell two multinational companies to go fuck themselves. I’m not gonna lie-I’m very full of myself at the moment.
Kirin Ichiban and a sugar cookie pair quite well. It’s snacks like these that are gonna put me on the short list for the next Olympics. Peak performance!
Canadians, are you interested in joining on me in hating on the French judge’s unrepentant (and unfortnately successful) attempt to rig the scoring in favor of their own country’s team?
Or have you guys never stopped hating on French judges?
I heard about that Creole place in Chinatown.
Not that weird when you realize the most popular restaurant in Chinatown sells Nashville hot chicken.
Haven’t been to either and the next time I visit I’m STILL going to go to Yang Chow.
“The Italians have never done well defending as a home team.”
-The Ostrogoths (not to be confused with Bauhaus)
Leave Peter Murphy outta this.
The simple truth is that skating to the music of Lenny Kravitz in the short program put the Americans into a hole they couldn’t dig out of.
“Hey refs, are you gonna go my way?”
If this Canadian ice dancer was truly committed to the theme he’d have mangled his ear prior to taking the ice and done his performance while bleeding all over the place, but in spite of that I still thought it was pretty good.
Van Gough or Tyson?
They skated to “Starry Starry Night” by Don McLean. And her dress was based on the painting.
“Wish I could have seen this much pushback from Italians in Greece during October in 1940.”
-B. Mussolini
THIS ITALIAN GOALIE I CALL HIM PAUL CASTELLANO, BECAUSE HE’S FACING A LOT OF SHOTS AND HE’S FULL OF HOLES!!!
Anyone else Czeching out this curling match the US may lose?
Well, I guess they did not wriggity wreck themselves
Ice dancing.
https://bsky.app/profile/cinemacultist.bsky.social/post/3mekkkcyip22j
From the replies:
James Van der Beek will not be down for breakfast.
Too soon?
Personally I’ve always been a well-wisher of his, in that I’ve never wished him any specific harm.
His work in Don’t Trust the B in Apartment 23 was fucking phenomenal.
That sucks. He seemed pretty cool, and always ready to make fun of himself.
AND THERE’S ANY NUMBER OF PEOPLE WHO ARE NOT COOL, CANCER, THAT COULD USE A VISIT FROM YOU!!!
Well alrighty then…
The drone camera shots are great, but the noise is really annoying. Given that it’s a pretty consistent frequency you’d think they could filter it out without affecting ambient noise too much.
The Slovakia Finland game was highly entertaining. Now for some more hot curling action!
Great stuff, Balls!
I’m on the edge of my seat over here…
Madison Chock.
Not unattractive.
YOU STAY AWAY FROM HER SHE’S MINE
Oh, wait. The Lenny Kravitz thing.
The German doubles luge team has a veteran with a partner 15 years her junior, so we all know what team Steve Tisch is rooting for.
Victoria Spitzova is a very popular athlete in Slovakia, but not as popular as her cousin, Victoria Swallova.
/tips hat to RTD
One of my greatest regrets from time at the University of the Witwatersrand in South Africa (aka “Wits”) was that I didn’t change the “WITS vs. SWALLOWS” sign into something more…fun.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TmK13F142O0
Spitzova is MUCH more popular than her second cousin Victoria Snowballova.
(Clerks was educational)
37!?
In a row?
X-country skiing in 44 degree weather through melting snow sucks all the ass.
Those are the kind of conditions where I go home after 15 minutes, crack a beer and say “well, I gave it a shot” and yet these idiots insist on doing 10K of it for medals.
Snowboarding cat and cute girl: https://www.instagram.com/lavaux_cat
I would recommend imginn as a IG viewer for those who prefer not to give all your info to Meta.
Nice cat lady.
I really like watching these videos.
That is so awesome! I love adventureous kittehs, so big thanks for posting!!
Here’s the direct link to her imginn page (& thanks for the suggestion about imginn, Fuck Zuck) :
https://imginn.com/lavaux_cat/
& here’s her tiktok, which might be the same vids: https://www.tiktok.com/@lavaux_cat?lang=en
Two Americans are in first place in Men’s It’s Not Gay If You’re Under Way (On Ice) (a/k/a doubles luge), which would be a stunning result if it holds.
They were really plugged in. (that’s the term, right?)
That’s one dangerous Dame.
And a great story goin on here.
Announcer: “And here’s the Polish team….”
Me: “Why is there a screen door on their sled?”
No, no, you’re mistaken. What you’re looking at is the sensor that registers any severe impacts and subsequently deploys the parachute.
Also, why are they wearing wings?
RIKKI-TIKKI-DEADLY: [over breakfast] “Okay Google, show me some girl on girl action.”
GOOGLE TV:
I’m gonna need a minute…
They’d feel the bumps a lot better if they were facedownGreat to see athletes excel on the world stageThat whole scene is so damn funny