I mean, you’re sitting there thinking nothing ever happens
then you remember the time, that time when the company
you work for was in some dispute with these guys
nobody knew much about and you wondered if they were connected
to those New Jersey Teamster fellas the boss was talking to a few months back.
This is the time you wondered about a bomb in your car.
You know, you weren’t in the middle of this deal, this dispute
but close enough that maybe somebody would figure to off the back room guy,
you, to scare the players into line without doing serious harm to the deal.
And you discover you can’t start your car from outside it,
you can’t lean through the window and start the damn car,
you have to have the clutch pushed in
and you get in and push it in, hold your breath and turn the key.
And feel stupid when you’re still alive.
I mean, nothing happens in life most of the time
and when it does, we kinda slide past,
not think too much about it when the other boss shows up at work
on a Saturday a few weeks later with a pistol on his hip.
Doesn’t that happen in your office? Man, then this other guy
starts coming to work at odd times, drives a different car or pickup each time
and parks in different places. He’s got this bayonet in his briefcase
and you figure there’s other stuff in his jacket, his pants, maybe his shoes.
I mean, nothing happens in life most of the time
and later it all sorts out.
Like a big messy divorce with screaming and stupid, angry, ugly conversations
and people keeping things just to spite the other, and things disappear
or break and innocence reigns over it all.
I mean, who’s kidding who? But finally it does quiet down and nothing
really does happen. One day you’re sitting around wondering if you’re
the only one to ever have one of those lives where nothing much happens.
I mean, you’re sitting there thinking nothing ever happens.