Episode 9: Spilled Soda

Basement of a Bull is a work of fiction, new episodes going up on Tuesdays and Thursdays. If you’re wondering where this story is headed, hey, so are we! Catch up on all the previous episodes right here. Today’s episode is written by Omar Muniz. Most episodes so far have been Chris O’Brien and then Chuck Ranspach writing the deli character. If you’d like to get involved in the writing, pitch me an idea at chris@mediumraresizzle.com

United Center

December 2017

Aaawhhahyheh *cough* *hack* *cough* *splat*

Boy, have you lost your damn mind?  Have you?  

And look here.  See what happened?  All because you don’t know how to behave in public?   I done told you *cough* now didn’t I tell you to put your pop in the cup holder?  Now it’s everywhere, all on your shoes, all on my shoes and on my purse.  And tell me something.  When has it ever *cough* when has it ever been acceptable to wake up Grandma when she’s asleep?  Since the dawn of time, that ain’t never been okay.  Especially if you wanna keep all five fingers of yours.  And now you know.  Unbelievable. Tickle grandma’s ear when she’s asleep and you lose your cola.  And what, you think I’ma buy you another one?  Hehehehe.  You better ask somebody to buy another.  I ain’t got that kind of money, to be buying you two of everything just because you wanna act cute.  

Now listen to me.   I need you to look around.  What do you see?  Emmett, put down the phone this very second.  Thank you.  Now, turn that pretty little faded head of yours one-hundred and eighty degrees…heck, go on and turn it three-hundred and sixty degrees if you can muster up the strength, hehe.  Now go on.  Turn ya head.  With. Your. Eyes. Open…Emmett.  Thank you.  Now, what do you see?  What.  Do  You.  See.  Yes, people.  Thousands and thousands of people.  You are so very perceptive.  You must’ve taken after your grandmother, who is five times as *cough* five times as perceptive as you, you know.  

But what else, Emmett.  What else do you see?  Yes, fine.  You see a basketball game.  A basketball game I brought you here to see.  For your enjoyment, mind you.  Not mine. Yours.  You think I wanted to come here after working nine hours just to watch these fools trip all over themselves? Lemme tell you something, they couldn’t guard an old maid, even if ya paid ‘em.  Couldn’t put a ball in a Bozo bucket neither.  Yet, here we are.  And I am here for you.  So that you enjoy yourself.  You, little man.  You.  And I worked about 7 extra shifts to pay for it. Honey, what you think?  These seats ain’t cheap.  Don’t matter how bad these Bulls are.   Lemme tell you something.  If the price of these seats decreased every time *cough* every time these Bulls lost, and hey – then the amount of these players’ paycheck decreased with every loss, too? Hehehehe…I tell you right now, these Bulls would never lose a game.  Best team in the league, I promise you.  Breaking all kinds of records.  That’s right, you better believe it.  But that is not the case.  And I did not come here so I can watch these knuckleheads put a silly little ball in a silly little basket.  I brought you.  Because you enjoy this.  Because your grandpa, God rest his troubled, penniless soul, enjoyed this.  And the two of you enjoyed this together.  But he’s not here anymore, Emmett.  And the Chicago Bulls, despite it all, they done gone ahead and started the season without your grandpa George.  40 years I swear that man never missed a game.  Could never remember my birthday, but he could tell you the starting lineup for every year we were married.  I don’t think we spoke not one word to each other during any of them championship years.  

But I always knew where to find him.  In his chair.  With his apple juice.  Like always.  I suppose I can’t be too mad about it – we had all the peace and quiet we ever wanted when the game was on, aside from the occasional curse word or exclamation.  But that was before, Emmett.  And your Grandpa isn’t here anymore.  So, I’m here.  Me.  With you.  For you.  50 minute bus ride.  Zero degrees outside.  Blistering cold.  Snow all in my boots.  Frosty eyebrows.  It don’t matter. I even brought my blood pressure medication.  Which I gotta take at 7:30pm on the dot.  I did it all for you.  But you are too busy acting a fool to appreciate any of it, so I don’t know why I bother. Is this how you were when grandpa George would bring you here?  Now I’m serious.  Look around this stadium this second and tell me what you see.  Cup holders, Emmett.  You see cups in cup holders.

Because that’s where civilized people place their cups.  And they place them there so that they don’t get knocked over by feet, so that the soda pop don’t all stick to the bottom of your shoes if they do happen to get knocked over.  

Now, I’ma need you to get some napkins from the concession.  Emmett – Rashard – Mills.  I don’t want to hear it.  Go find 25 napkins.  And be quick, before the floor fills up with bugs.  You know they’re quick to feast on sugary treats. And Emmett…Here.  Take this.  Get yourself another soda.  And a slice of pizza if you’re still hungry.  A bottle of water, too, so I can take this medication.  Be back in no later than ten minutes.  Don’t talk to no one.  If you gotta use the bathroom, go in the stall not in the urinal.  Mind this section and seat number.  326.  Row J.  Seat 10.  If you get lost, go tell someone wearing a red shirt and black vest.  Or make your way onto that basketball court right down there, I’ll see you from all the way up here.  Heck, maybe you catch the ball while you’re down there and hit a jump shot.  You got about just as good a-chance as any of them fools of putting the ball in the basket, hehehehe.  Alright, you got all that? *kiss*  Grandma loves you.  And one last thing – if you catch me sleeping when you come back, you let me be, you understand?   

 

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