The Difference a Year Makes
Today is another of those days where I wanted to make a comment and chickened out. Some times I just don't feel like I should be intruding on other people's blogs.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm one of the black sheeps of the blogosphere. Some people probably don't want someone like me commenting on their blogs. Maybe I'm respecting that. Maybe I jast have issues I need to work out. I don't know. So far today isn't boding well for 2 sober New Years in a row.

But Yolie (Jus' Writin' Life) posted about the difference a year made, and asked for reader input.

I almost left a long comment. I had it half typed before I deleted it.

Maybe next year I'll stop doing that. Maybe next year I'll decide whether this little experiment is helping me any, or if I'm just spewing negativity on others. I'm still unsure whether the outlet is doing me any good or not.

But this has been a year of changes. And a few people even watched, maybe even coming along for the ride. Most of the work stuff I didn't talk about. I hope to do better at that next year, although at the first it'll just be older jobs and still missing details. But I sometimes think that those are the best stories for me to tell. Who cares what I ate for breakfast? Probably not that different from what you ate. Well, OK, maybe not you...

One of the biggest changes obviously was Mom dying. She was about the last thing holding me back professionally. There were some jobs and risks I didn't take because I didn't want the potential of having to suddenly and anonymously fleeing the country. I didn't want to just vanish on her like that. But that's not an issue anymore, is it?

So next year I can get into my work more seriously. I don't think it'll be a big year for number of jobs, but maybe better than most financially. This year wasn't great on either count.

So that's what I'm thinking as the year comes to an end. I've never made a resolution to kill fewer people. So here's to getting paid more for doing it. Good luck with your own resolutions. Some of you maybe dieting, some of you doing better in school, maybe some quitting smoking. I'm considering that one myself.

I guess I'll let you know. 
2:15 PM (2) comments (Home/top)   

Pissing Contest?
I had a dream that Bill Gates and Wil Wheaton were having a "who's the bigger geek" pissing contest.

For some reason, they chose me to be the judge.

Wil pointed at a stack of old comic books and some kind of Dungeons and Dragons magazine.

Bill pointed at himself, "you can't beat my wordrobe."

"I can get you an Xbox," Bill tried.

Wil asked if that was cheating, I said I didn't know what the rules were.

"I'm amazingly rich," Bill added.

"But do you blog?" Wil countered.

"I made PC's what they are today!"

"Oh yah? I was Wesley Crusher!"

Then Bill pulled out the Official Microsoft Tie (with his face on it), and Wil pulled out a box of official Star Trek props.

"Your geek-fu is strong," Bill admitted.

Then Bill offered me $200,000 or two shares of Microsoft if I'd kill Wil Wheaton. Wil countered with a blog post asking for donations to outbid Bill.

I woke up not knowing who won...
I think I'm better off not knowing. 
7:36 AM (2) comments (Home/top)   

It's interesting to see the kind of people you run into at Blockbuster on Christmas Eve. I was there early...you know, while the selection doesn't suck yet.

There are two people you find there at that point. One is the parent with kids on tow. This is the person hoping to find either the right movie or enough movies to keep their kids distracted so they can have their holiday with fewer interruptions. It just seems wrong, maybe even pathetic.

And then there's the other person you find there. The one looking for movies to kill the time alone. No less pathetic, when it comes down to it.

And just what are the best movies to pretend you aren't lonely watching?

Romances are out. Chick flicks aren't going to help. The really good dramas are out. The best ones are best when you have someone to discuss them with.

Comedy? Action? Horror?

Rule out the Three Stooges marathon. I was looking to actually stay sober. That also ruled out the horror movie spoofs. Obviously any Christmas movie was right out.

Zombies for Christmas? Nah.

Kung Fu? Hai.

Now, basically there are no martial arts stars that can act. Steven Segal is fun in small doses. He makes the fighting fun to watch. Jackie Chan is great fun but gets old. Van Damme? Maybe if I was gay. Bruce Lee is still cool.

Well, not exactly traditional, huh? Hey, I stayed somewhat sober. Well, OK, I didn't get hammered. That's something, right? 
1:15 AM (0) comments (Home/top)   

Nope
Nope, I didn't fall off the face of the earth.

There are times that I'm without a chance to blog for a while and can't say what I'm up to. Most of the jobs I do get little to no news coverage. But often enough one will run in a local paper, because some part of people want to hear about it. It's not like it's all politicians and celebrities. But posting details about a job, and then somebody reading about it in the Tribune... just doesn't seem a good idea.

But then sometimes I'm just not blogging. I get like that in the winters sometimes. Not that I had a blog this time last year, but I get quiet and solitary this time of year. I've already decided I shouldn't post anything on Christmas, for example. Nobody'd want to read what I'd end up posting. Not if Thanksgiving is any example. In case I forget to say it later, Merry Christmas.

I'm not feeling good. I've been coughing for days. I've spent too much time in front of the TV feeling apathetic about things. I'm at the point where I have enough money that I can afford to take some time to just blow off and waste with not being motivated to, well, anything.

And now and then I've read a blog and thought about leaving a comment, but it just seems like too much hassle at the time.

And I don't even know why I'm awake. But I'm out of coffee, and that's a pain, and I'm not going out in this cold during rush hour. I'll head out later. I'm going to feed Walther so he'll stop complaining and then I'm crawling back into bed. I may hit a bookstore while I'm out, too, who knows. 
7:43 AM (3) comments (Home/top)   

Do I Enjoy It?
Some comments are easy to respond to. But some of them are worth posting a longer answer to. here's a recent example:

Perhaps this is a silly question, but I was just curious. Do you enjoy what you do? Are you happy with your work and your life? It seems like it would be lonely. Not that most people aren't lonely and unhappy...cuz we all are, really. Just curious.

So some of this I've already touched on. Are we all really lonely and unhappy?

I do have to think there are people who actually do end up happily married, or in loving relationships, and I think there are people who enjoy their lives.

But I also think it isn't a black and white, you do or you don't kind of thing. There are parts of my life I enjoy. There are some parts I don't. I enjoy not having to set an alarm for 5 or 6 every morning to go to an office that sucks the joy out of life.

I don't enjoy the lengths I have to go to to keep money trails broken or clean. I spend probably as much time manipulating money as I do finding and doing the jobs.

I get to work with some real scum. It's not like I get hired by shining examples of what's good in the world. Some stories just wouldn't share with friends well. "Hey, I just met this really cool chick who's willing to pay to have her husband killed so she can run off with the other guy she's sleeping with..."

I don't really have friends. There are people I drink with now and then, and people I see about town, but not people I invite over to watch the big game or anything like that. I haven't invited anyone to my appointment in a pretty damn long time. Basically everyone I meet I have to lie to. "So, whaddayou do for a living?" How many times do people ask you that?

But do I enjoy it? There is a very empowering feeling. There's a lot of little stuff I don't sweat. Somebody tries to piss me off and I just think about how easy it would be to kill him. Soooo damn easy. And then whatever the guy did usually doesn't seem like a big deal. Was it worth killing him for? Nah, he's just stupid. So what...

I mean, it's not the kind of thing that afterwards I'm all like, "Ah, now that was fun." I've never finished and gotten home and said to my cat, "Hey, it's Miller Time." There is an exhilaration, a thrill of the risk and getting away with it. Extreme sports guys probably know that feeling. There's a tension doing it, and you're aware of it, but you're focused enough that you don't really notice it...not after the first few times anyway. And when that tension goes away it's one of those cool feelings. Like narrowly avoiding a car accident. There's that endorfin rush.

Would I recommend it to anyone else? I think it takes a certain kind of person to be able to do it. I think you don't know if you're that person until afterwards. And if you're not, and it's not for you, it's now something to live with. It's not like spending a summer in a restaurant mascot costume... that you can just pretend never happened.

So yeah, there are the lonely times. There are the times I wish I could just go back to a normal life with a nice salaried job and friends and crap like that. And then I remember that for the most part I hated that life. I'm my own boss, I do what I want, and I'm making the kind of money I could only fantasize about when I was working restaurants. 
7:39 AM (1) comments (Home/top)   

In The Beginning
A recent email noted that I don't talk much about the jobs I do. Partly there's a reason for that. 6-10 a year is probably what I'm normally at, although this year has been slow. 2002 was a banner year at 11. I haven't hit that one per month average yet, and I don't know that I will. I think I'm ready to start doing fewer but higher paying jobs.

But after the asshole boss, there was a first paid job.

I met her at a bar, which set a precedent I still make good use of. I ended up in conversation with her without having any real motives. It's not like I was looking for the job, really. Yah, I'd killed a man, but I hadn't really considered getting paid for it. The thought had probably crossed my mind, but not as something I had as a career goal.

So she and I started talking. It wasn't a romance, it wasn't even going to be some weekend fling or one night stand. We were both just looking for someone to talk to. She wasn't looking for anyone, partly because she had just gone through an ugly divorce. Still too fresh. She thanked god that there weren't kids involved, but proceeded to tell me how she'd gotten screwed in the whole thing.

She had had money, and basically he married her for it. He had drugs planted in her car and called the police claiming she had threatened him and that she had a history of drug abuse. She was arrested and taken in, but there were no drugs in her system. She was charged with possession which she tried to fight, and he filed for divorce.

The end result was he got half of everything and destroyed her career. Her job depended on her having a good and clean reputation. He started squandering her money and then kept coming back for more. He threatened to blackmail her, and for a while she paid him back. But each time she got more bitter about it. His demands kept increasing. Sooner or later he would have milked her dry.

Eventually she leaned over after finishing whatever it was she was drinking and said, "What I wouldn't give to have him dead. Hell, I'd pay." It was one of those lines that stuck in my head.

"Well, I know someone who could make that happen...but of course you know nothing about that." Or words to that effect. At the time I was unemployed and pretty close to not making rent. The temp market wasn't panning out, and I sure as hell didn't want to get back into restaurant work. So I saw the chance for some decent money. We arranged 4 transfers of $2500 through a couple different channels. (I've since learned a number of inventive methods. I did a job for a guy who cooked books, but that's another story.)

The money was going to come over a couple of weeks. She could make money disappear, but only so much at once. Once I had the first installment I was officially starting. I watched her like a hawk for the first week...making sure I could trust her.

Her life was boring. Every night she would drink one scotch on ice while watching TV. She laughed too much at Letterman. After Letterman she went upstairs, spent about 15 or 20 minutes with a plain off-white vibroat, and went to bed. She was never noisy. She did nothing that seemed out of place.

There was 1 short cellphone call when I reminded her to stick to a normal routne and not miss any payments. Then I started following him.

He had a cocaine habit. He paid for sex. He didn't have a daytime job. H had a couple of girls he met at hotels. He never took them home.

Eventually I found out why. I saw a burly black man bash in his windshield, explaining you have 1 more week before we break something more important to you. Could it have been any better?

I called the client again, explaining that the $10,000 was cash payoff money she was giving her ex. More of his blackmailing. I suggested that he told her about the black loan collector. I suggested that she notice he seemed desperate.

She caught on. "And I would have told that asshole it's not my fucking problem." She had some pent up hostility, I think.

The week isn't out yet when he's taking a new chick to a cheap hotel. It's one of those rent by the night or week or month places out in the burbs. Rundown dive. The girl I think I recognize seeing hanging out with the cocaine dealer the target uses. It's time.

It's late, past midnight, dark. The nearest 2 parking lights went out already. Funny how that happens. There are lights on the building, but the conveniently go dark while she's inside. I wait until she leaves.

The door is slow to close. She leaves it to close on its own. She didn't see me in the next doorway. I reach over and set a ducktaped 9volt batter in the doorjamb to prop it just open.

A few minutes go by and the TV turns on. The door is undisturbed. The shower starts. I check my watch and give it 2 more minutes. I pull the battery and go in. I closed the tape over the battey and pocketed it. After handling the tape I add another layer of gloves. (overly cautious? maybe not) I'd already scrubbed the hell out of my hair to not leave any and I'm wearing a restaurant hair net. Probably not the appearance he expected.

Eventually the shower ended. He flushed and stepped out. Big look of surprise. I'm waiting with gun out, he's wearing a towel. I took another step closer and put a bullet in his chest point blank. Not an instant heart shot. He falls, clutching his chest, too surprised to scream and now coughing blood. He probably figured his week wasn't up and expected something less dramatic anyway.

Before too long he stops choking and I put one in his head for good measure. Check for a pulse - nothing. Another glove layer after that. I'm still nervous about the whole thing. I open his bags and dump them. I was a little surprised he even had them. I think he was preparing to hide out. I walk 6 blocks to where my car is parked and drive off. I head to a southside industrial area and start disposing of stuff here and there in dumpsters.

The police did question her. She was never charged or even taken into custody. I guess housekeeping found the body, or maybe the manager came to get him to pay up for another night.

I got home, had a cigarette, and knew it was the job for me. I could do that for 10 grand. In retrospect, I could have gotten 20 or 25 out of her easy. I could probably have gotten 50. Hey, it was my rookie days, and undercharging has so far been the biggest mistake I've made. I can live with that...
 
11:59 AM (1) comments (Home/top)   

Another Thing I Didn't Fucking Miss in Rio
Those goddamned Eagleman insurance commercials.

Damn you, Mancow!

GAAAARGHGHG!

Now I'm going to have that fucking tune in my head all goddamn day!

Never mind the "hum job"... THIS is the tune that'll drive me insane.

I have NOT had enough coffee for this.

GAAAHRGH! There, I said it again. OK, the radio is off for today. Serves you right you sonofabitch. (But don't worry, gentle reader, I am planning on having a better day later.)

Ah, fuck it, I'm going back to bed. 
6:35 AM (3) comments (Home/top)   

Wait, what's the new black?
According to a comment at Friday's Bond Girl post, "brown is the new black."

Damn, I keep losing track.

There are time when being a white male has it's advantages. Easy hair decisions, for one thing. No worries about bad perms, and no 8 hour weave sessions. Short, clean, combed. OK, that was easy.

Dressed up? Suit and tie.
Casual? Jeans. Sweater in cool weather. Sometimes a favorite pair of black cargo pants.

Shoes? Black wingtips, brown loafers, sneakers, hiking boots, black motorcycle boots, every now and then black combat boots. 6 pairs total. Not 12, not 18, not so many that I lose count. My late fiancee had 6 pairs of heels alone.

Professional? Blacks and grays or just jeans and a sweatshirt, or dress pants and jacket... Yah, there's some situationality there.

Personally, I think I'll stick with the old black rather than try to keep track of which new black is the new black. Next thing you know white will be the new black...

...But this time of morning, cream and sugar beats black. 
6:44 AM (3) comments (Home/top)   

The new epidemic nobody's talking about
I'm beginning to wonder if maybe stupid is contagious. 
11:29 PM (2) comments (Home/top)