It's a hot morning here--dry and dusty with hints of lime-cilantro. A cactus mews in the distance, because they don't have cats. Those, along with the Shermans' new baby girl, were all eaten by the coyotes.
OCYSLG is in his bedroom, which smells both musty and fresh, getting ready for Work. He's listening to a hip new band very few people know about. He loves music, but the only thing he doesn't do is Mariachi.
He only ties a single Windsor, however, which can be interpreted as either lazy or an attempt at maintaining his iconoclastic image. OTG might also be there, but I don't know if they see each other on worknights. It doesn't matter, though. It's cool.
After the whole single-knot thing, OCYSLG "does his hair." Or whatever's left of it these days. He's young but he's got a rapidly receding hairline which he hides most of the time underneath an authentically-worn (not the kind you buy pre-worn at Abercrombie) cowboy hat.
He gathers the day's paperwork and stuffs it in his old backpack, grabs a bowl of organic granola with elderberries and soy milk...I mean, a leftover piece of meatzza...on his way out the door. He may or may not kiss OTG goodbye.
OCYSLG's friend, OTD, is doing the same thing, but his hair requires more attention because there's more of it. This trait gives OTD a one-up over OCYSLG when the two argue over hypothetical combat scenarios.
OTD is currently in a sad stage of life because he has recently parted ways with someone special, the cause of which is at the moment unknown but probably his own fault. The worst is when people complain about life situations which they caused, and OTD's doing a lot of that these days.
Irregardless being a word now, he grabs some fast food on his way in to Work. Inevitably, he'll one day be bitching about having adult-onset diabetes or no more money, and end his own life due to whichever comes first. For now, though, he's nobly trying to live life to the fullest extent and, well, there's no room for criticizing Carpe Diem in this story.
Both OCYSLG and OTD arrive at Work. They dismount their horsies and chain them to the iron bars outside. They chat about Work and how they love it and hate it at the same time. They can do this because they're in the special Workers clique.
The clique's formation is not unreasonable like most cliques', though, since being a Worker is one of the toughest jobs out there. On a daily basis they are responsible for many things which impact the future of our society and its individuals. As such, everyday at Work is both an uphill and downhill battle, the latter of which being the key to Chamberlain's success at Gettysburg.
In addition to keeping the peace and fighting various battles, they are also forced to work within the screwed-up Structure of Worktion which runs much like the Great Glass Elevator:
it has the ability to take you anywhere you want to go, but most of the time just dumps you vis-a-vis a gang of Vermicious Knids.
OCYSLG and OTD say goodbye for now and head off to their own Workrooms, where they get busy Working and impacting the future of back-of-the-house restaurant workers and maybe even the next mayor of San Francisco.
Their day can be likened to a bag of Seneca Apple Chips. The idea of the apple is there. Indeed, that's the basis of the chip itself. But there's something extra delicious about the crispy, buttery and tart taste that keeps you reaching your hand in the only-half-filled bag (contents settle due to shipping).
You continue to munch on this satisfying snack until it's all gone, at which point you kind of wish you had just eaten a real apple like in the days of yore! But it's so hard to eat real apples these days due to the exorbitant regulations surrounding them per the Pomum Protocol imposed by the Structure of Worktion. Plus, fruit--who needs it?
After Work, OCYSLG and OTD agree to hit up the local cantina for some drinks and meaty meat meat. They mount their horsies, amidst much heckling from all the normal people driving cars, and trot on down to I Wish It Wasn't Monday's for some manly conversation and strawberry daiquiries.
"A sloth could not change a baby's diaper faster than a cheetah," rebuts OTD to OCYSLG's claim that, yes, it could.
After one too many Mike'ses, they agree on one animal that is good at changing diapers:
They decide to end their evening on this congenial note and part ways.
For a brief moment they are sad to leave one another. They are best friends in a town of their worst enemies: boredom, anxiety, isolationism, and the lack of a decent record store. Parting is difficult, but they manage it every time.
On the ride home, OTD gets pulled over and ticketed for drunk horseback riding, although the actual ticket reads "just get a car cowboy." In addition to this harassment, the ticket comes with a paycheck's worth of a fine.
OCYSLG swings by and picks up OTG. They talk about other stuff not related to sloths and cheetahs...most of it's OCYSLG's daily musings which prepares OTG for sleeping. He kisses her goodnight, drifts off and then dreams of HOSO. The moon shines bright through the slats.
It was a typical day here and our mysteriously-named friends have made the best of it.
They are their own sheriffs in a border town where no one really does the whole Wild West Thing anymore. In fact, no one really does a whole lot of anything anymore. Either that or they're doing things they don't like, they don't need, or that they despise.
But our friends are spending their lives the way they want to.
Even if they don't have a penny to show for it.