| Operation: Get Stuff That Ain’t Mine. Briefing: The operative, Schol Hall Ninja, is to obtain from another schol hall a wide selection of snacks, munchies, goodies, and other consumables. Without exchange of monetary reimbursement. Also, keep an eye out for empty milk crates, needed for constructing an entertainment center. Mission Parameters: The operative is to remain unseen and undetected. He/she is to leave no trace of his/her presence or any evidence that could result in leading the fuzz back to him/her. In addition, the operative is to pick up some Doritoes, if at all possible. Operative’s Mission Log: 9/14 23:30. I decided that the food shelves in my room were looking decidedly bare, and so came to the conclusion that I should lead a “shopping” excursion to a local “grocery store.” (translation: filch it from another hall’s kitchen.) In preparation for this dangerous and stealth intensive mission, I begin training by playing several hours of Tenchu, Metal Gear Solid, and Syphon Filter. 9/15 02:41. I begin dressing for the mission, which consists of putting on my dark colored jacket and going downstairs in search of cohorts. 9/15 02:45. I locate potential cohorts, but they want to watch the last fifteen minutes of a BET. I prepare to leave, but am suddenly drawn in by the Thuggin’ video that comes on. Oh, the gyration. 9/15 03:00. We’re ready to leave, and I head off with my elite hand-picked team, consisting of myself and two drunk guys. We start towards our destination, Code Name: “Piggly-Wiggly.” 9/15 03:01. I realize that while amusing and friendly, drunk and loud people are less than good at stealth. 9/15 03:03. We arrive outside of “Piggly-Wiggly,” only to find the kitchen full of people. One of my elite drunken teammates suggests asking them to let us in, but upon pointing out that they won’t be too keen on us taking off with their food, I lead the team back to base. 9/15 03:06. The waiting game begins. I consider the prior outing a scouting mission, and decide to leave again at 04:00. Until then, I resume video games. 9/15 04:02. I set off again, sans my drunken sidekicks. 9/15 04:05. I can locate no one in either the dining area or kitchen. Emboldened by the clear coast, I head to check the back door for lockage. Lockage is confirmed. That’s when the following dialogue transpired: Voice From Above: Hey, are you looking for someone? Me: (Looking around, realizing there’s a guy smoking on the fire escape above me. Crap! Stay calm, stay calm, think fast.) ....Uuhhhh, yeah? (Good cover.) Voice: Who? Me: (Drat, he’s a clever one! Quickly, confuse him with a confident response.) ...Uuhhhhh, Todd? (Well done.) Voice: There’s no one named Todd that lives here. Are you sure that you have the right hall? Me: (Blast, foiled again. This guy’s some sort of expert interrogator. Through out final answer, and prepare to assassinate him.) ...Uuhhh, isn’t this [Censored 1]? (Damn, you’re smart!) Voice: No, this is [Censored 2]. [Censored 1]’s over there. Me: (Situation contained, abort assassination preparation.) ....Uuhhh, thanks? (Awesome! You handled that like a pro!) I then returned to my hall, deciding that security was to tight for tonight, I’d try again tomorrow. I crawled into bed and laid there curled in a fetal position. 9/16 03:00 I set off once more too complete the operation. I approach the target, scan all windows, no one in sight. I then ease my way around the corner and thoroughly search the fire escape for observers. None sighted. I then creep up once more to the back door. Just as I’m beginning to open it, someone walks right out of the pantry, not two feet in front of me, all that’s between us is a glass door. Abort! I instinctively slide back into the shadows and crouch, waiting for him to pass by. He settles down in the dining area, so I slip away to wait for later. Man, I’m such a ninja! 9/16 03:30. I’ve waited for a bit, deciding the guy is probably gone. I start out to head back over, but just then I hear a loud group of returning revelers. They’re headed to “Piggly-Wiggly”’s kitchen. I slip back in my hall, but pause to observe them, and note which of the back doors are unlocked. 9/16 04:00. I’ve decided that if I can’t pull it off this time, I’ll have to wait until tomorrow again. I once more approach the target. Kitchen and dining room: clear. Fire escape: clear. I observe for a minute to make sure no one is walking around where I can’t see them, and then I try the door. Unlocked. I slowly ease the handle down, pull it quietly open, and slip inside, easing it shut behind me. There is noise from the rec room, but it appears they are staying there, so I hug the wall and slip around into the kitchen, and then proceed into the pantry. Not as well stocked as hoped, and no specific items jump out at me for taking. I start searching through everything, but can’t find anything particularly awesome. I start to get frantic, I’ve already been in there two minutes, the longer I wait the more likely I am to be detected. I finally decide on a box of snack cakes, two cans of pringles, a can of blueberry pie filling. I creep out of the pantry and slip into the dining room. On my way out the back door, I snag a milk crate and then I’m gone, silently, like the night. 9/16 04:30. I decided I’m not satisfied with my previous haul, and head back to the target to get more. All checkpoints are clear, I enter through the same door. Still noises in the rec room, so I use the utmost stealth in getting back to the pantry. Upon more searching, I uncover a stash of pop. I stick a bag of cookies, some fig newtons, and another can of pie filling in a milk crate, and with my other hand grab a 24 pack of Barq’s. Just as I’m about to step out into the kitchen, I hear a noise and freeze. A guy walks right past me and into the kitchen. I hope that he’s just grabbing a cup, but he gets out the mop to do his kitchen cleaning. He’s facing towards the pantry, not looking at me, but if I move he’ll see me. He begins mopping, working from across the kitchen towards me. He gets about six feet away from me, and has to move a trashcan to mop underneath it. He turns around for about three seconds to move it back, and I use this chance to slip out right behind him and through the kitchen back door. I take two steps, and then realizing that the door is swinging shut and my hands are full. I dash back to the door and manage to catch it with my toe right before it slams. I then ease it shut and hightail it back to base. Debriefing: Operative fulfilled most mission parameters, staying mainly unseen, and covering for him/herself adequately. In addition, he/she, all told, seized 2 cans of Pringles, 1 bag of cookies, 1 bag of fig newtons, 2 cans of pie filling, 1 box of snack cakes, 24 cans of Barq’s, and 2 milk crates. Evaluation: Mission Failed. Where the hell are my Doritoes? A Parallel Don’t expect a double feature to become a norm, but I felt this bore telling, just in case there were some of you out there who had decided from last week’s post that I’m the happiest bugger alive. It turns out, I was worrying all week about what I’d write this weekend, there just seemed to be nothing that was worth telling. Then, Friday night I had the inspiration for this week’s segment. Well, when it rains, it pours, because again tonight I was figuratively punched in the nose with another topic. The story is such: For the past three, four days, I’ve been in a sort of deep blue funk. I’ve been listless, bored, both tired and awake at the same time, not hungry enough to eat but too full to be content. And it's been both cold AND rainy lately, in a particularly unseasonal way. In general, it’s sucked. Some examples? Last week I had the fortune to receive a large sum of scholarship refund money, a chunk of dough that substantially increased my usual spending power. And so I used a respectable amount of this moolah to do what anyone who knows me would expect: I bought a crud load of video games. Didn’t even waste the money, either. I got them all used and discounted, which meant my money went quite far. In addition, a friend recently gave me a bunch of his old games since he had sold his Playstation. So here I am, Friday night, sitting on approximately 20 new games, in addition to the 40 some old ones and a handful of awesome computer games, all of varying difficulties and genres. The kicker is, I didn’t want to play a single one. Not one. I couldn’t bear to bring myself to play any of them for more than fifteen minutes. That’s a first ladies and gentlemen. Phenomena Number 2: On Saturday, Brian and I happened to get the urge to go shopping, the reasoning being since we weren’t satisfied with any of our current stuff, we should get NEW stuff. Hit Target first, and since I had aforementioned millions of dollars, I was ready to go crazy, have a bit of a spending spree, pamper myself, maybe by myself a new outfit or a vase for the living room. Nope, nadda. Couldn’t find anything there that I wanted or needed, other than Dr. Pepper and a pair of fingernail clippers. FINGERNAIL CLIPPERS!! Okay, okay, maybe that just wasn’t the place for me, granted, they have a rather limited variety. Our next stop, however, was Hastings. Hastings, the store that carries a wide range of all my favorite vices. We’re talking music, movies, video games, books, computer stuff, even comics. Spent close to an hour wandering around there. Walked out with n-o-t-h-i-n-g. I even browsed through a selection of 30 different cool graphic novels, and couldn’t bring myself to buy a one. Me, the guy who’d buy a Ronald McDonald graphic novel if it had a flashy enough cover. Obviously strange things are afoot with me. And then, half an hour ago, the entire series of doldrums culminated into ten minutes of pure personal catastrophe. I got back from late mass, grabbed a can of Dr. Pepper , and went to do my homework. Start the timer. 00:00:01. It starts raining. 00:00:10. I discover that I have three more pages of work to do then I had thought. 00:02:07. After reading and re-reading the assignment, I come to the conclusion that I don’t have the slightest idea what I’m doing, but I know I better have it done by tomorrow. 00:02:10. I forge ahead, getting started on the first exercise in the workbook, which is rather writing intensive. As I get rolling, I think I’ve got the hang of it and become a bit cocky. 00:05:08. I realize that I’ve done the entire first set of problems COMPLETELY wrong, and have wasted all the space on that workbook page. 00:05:09. I slam the cap back on my pen so I can white out my enormous error. 00:05:10 I realize that instead of putting the cap on the pen, I had in fact driven the entire tip of the pen into my palm. 00:05:11. I begin cussing and yelling at the combination of my own stupidity and the stinging pain in my hand. 00:05:14. I realize that instead of just poking myself with the pen, I’d actually driven the pen deep enough to break the skin, as a steady flow of blood starts to seep out of my palm. Cussing continues. 00:07:20. Cussing stops, and get up to look for my white out. 00:08:34. I find the white out. 00:08:50. The white out doesn’t work, I begin trying to fix it. Cussing resumes. 00:09:13. White out is fixed, I begin to correct my grievous error. Palm is still bleeding. 00:09:57. I finish whiting out, cussing stops. 00:10:00. I set the workbook on the end table to let it dry, in the process knocking over my can of Dr. Pepper, which proceeds to spill all over my workbook, the table, the sofa, the floor, and me. By the time I pick it up, the previously full can has a spoonful left in it. Cussing resumes, again. Stop the clock. As you can see, it is quite obvious that God, the fates, the laws of physics, and in fact all Creation have joined together in plot to make my life a miserable mockery of what it might have been. If anyone asks where I’ve gone, tell them I took my ball and went home. |