Ted Everlasting

Ted Everlasting

Sanchez Gas N Go

I’ve got tendencies that have always been there. I didn’t realize how much she kept them at bay, until now. My wife, that is. Her name was Gail. I guess you could say she kept me in line. If you’re very lucky, a great gal will do that for you, Sanchez. You have a girlfriend? How old are you, anyway? Oh wow, now that’s a good age! I had a girlfriend at 14…Betty Lou Granger, the best ya-yas in six counties, I tell ya. I can see by the look on your face I’ve brought up Betty Lou before, but boy, does she bear repeating. She was all a fella my age could handle, developed beyond her years, that one. Velvety voice, too…it’s like she was part cat, how she purred your name. Can you imagine that, Sanchez, someone purring yer name? Why should you blush? You got it all ahead of ya — young, not even near yer prime. Okay, I’ve chewed yer ear enough, fill her up with high-test, wouldja? But hey, before ya do, is the coffee fresh?

Menagerie Bistro

You don’t think I know what yer doin', sittin' me here by the door? Tryin-ta freeze me out, aren’t ya? I get it; it’s just me at a two-seater, making ya half the tip. Well, I can’t very well bring my wife back from the dead, now can I? I can tell ya one thing, you’d never sit a woman like my Gail near the front door in February, you wouldn’t dare. Don’t bother. I’ll just take a cup to go if you’ve got a fresh pot on, but only if it’s fresh.

Neighbor Fence Line

I appreciate all you and Fran have done, Jerry. Gail always loved having you as neighbors, especially all those shuffleboard nights. Yeah, I’m getting along okay. I’ve had to change the way I do things around here. I counted on her for, well — ya see, we had a deal that I’d go first. She didn’t think I’d be able to cope. I hope she’d be proud of me…ya know, for not giving up. I thought about it more than a few times, once it all settled in she was…that she was just gone. I didn’t load the gun, Jerry. In fact, I just threw away all the bullets. Oh hey, does Fran like tea? I can’t drink it. Chamomile tastes like soap to me. I picked it up at the Scarsdale Motor Inn; they put the tea and coffee cart out of sight of the front desk — perfect in-and-out operation.

Yancey’s Topline Motors

Do you know how many years I’ve been comin’ here? I bought a Pontiac from your grandfather, that’s how long. It was a hunk-o-junk, but that was the 70s when every American model was a junker. I don’t blame yer Pops; what could he do? Listen, I know what you’re going to say, and I’m NOT hassling yer lot boys…listen, I can call them “boys” if they don’t act like men. What do I mean by that? Shit, Jack, yer dad would know what I mean. I don’t mind you hirin’ overseas fellas, that’s all fine and good, bring me yer tired, yearning, what-have-ya. But they need to have knowledge. They should know as much, or more than I do about the cars on the lot! Just ten years back, I could walk on the lot, and ole Kurt — he still kickin'? — well, Kurt would come right up, dressed snappy, and walk me around the new models. He’d hand me a brochure, talk about the horsepower, torque, the features. These guys you’ve got out here don’t even know the models? Whether we're lookin at a Buick or GMC. What do you pay them for, Jack? No, I’m not gonna bother'em on the way out. I mean, can they be bothered? It sure didn’t seem like it when I pulled in. I’m gonna top off my coffee on the way out, alright, Jack?

Greenway Toll Booth #3

Just came from Yancey’s Topline, takin' it for a test drive. They still let me keep’em overnight, even though I can’t use the “want to show it to the wife” excuse anymore. I saw’em refueling this little cruiser and asked if I could try it. Ya know ya can’t count on their salesmen anymore, and I told’em, too. And it's not because they’re foreign; give me a break on that. I taught kids of every type and stripe for 35 years. Christ in silk slippers, the least Jack can do is teach these fellas the difference between a standard and auto transmission. I miss the classic duel between the savvy salesmen and the tough customer; there’s no honor in it anymore. Oh yeah, okay. Sorry for the backup. I’ll be gettin' along. Nothin better than the Greenway for a nice drive.

Rebounder Bar & Grill

Aside from the ulcer, that’s why I don’t drink anymore. I’d be a puddle on my futon every night. There are angry drunks, violent drunks, and happy drunks. I’m none of those. I’m the sad one. I keep myself straight and ready on the black coffee. And let me tell ya what else I don’t do anymore since I lost Gail, and she’s probably rollin' in the coffin on this, but I don’t buy butter, napkins, jelly, sugar, salt, pepper, or a newspaper for that matter. I’ve got a system for all that now, and it’s foolproof. I pulled out a local map and put pins in to mark the county hotels, motels, coffee shops, and buffets—I call it “the circuit.” I hit a hotel in the morning when they’re feedin' business travelers. They’re too busy to see a guy fill his fanny pack with butter and sugar packets before he splits out the back with a free paper. Then maybe I head to Yancey’s and talk with the lot boys for a little, then it’s off to a lunch spot to stock up on jellies, napkins, salt and pepper, ketchup, and relish packets; usually at Happy Gyros, it’s good to pick the busy places. And do you know that I haven’t bought a cup of coffee in weeks? If you time the hotel shift changes and locations, you just keep swinging back in like yer a new guest, and on ya go. It’s a rhythm. I keep a log so as not to make a mistake. So far, so great. As a matter of fact, this coffee right here was obtained 10 minutes ago at the Holiday Inn over on Glebe Road.

Sanchez Gas N Go

I’d be lying to ya, young fella, if I didn’t admit to havin' some hard nights. I keep busy motoring around during the day, workin the circuit, but the nights…48 years, Sanchez, can you imagine? Not to drag ya down, and I know you got customers, but can you imagine, 48 years of ole Ted and Gail, then poof, into the ether? I’m sure at your age that’s tough to wrap yer head around, but let me tell ya, there are times when I look in the mirror and can’t believe what I see. I remember being your age, like it was yesterday, fer chrissakes. I’m sure I told you about Betty Lou Granger…I can see in your face that I have. Well, Betty couldn’t hold a candle to my Gail…oh boy, I’m sorry for chokin' up. I’d better leave ya to it. Grab the day by the horns, Sanchez.

Menagerie Bistro

Am I on one of those hidden camera shows? Are you serious? Listen, maybe it’s not you; maybe you’re being told by your manager to sit me back here by the bathrooms and kitchen. Bigger picture, why have a table here at all? It’s hot, loud, and stinks to high heaven! I know what yer doin', and maybe it’s not you, maybe it’s someone else here, but it’s not gonna work, yer not keepin' me away. Nah, I don’t have time to wait for a seat at the bar; I’ll just take a piece of pie to go. Christ in a striped sweater.

Jerry’s Fence Line

Well, if you’re really asking, I could use a little help over at a storage unit I’m trying to clean out. Half a day job and I’ll buy ya lunch over at Rebounder, good? I don’t even know what’s in there anymore. Gail never knew about it, the unit. I kept it from her; she thought I had “hoarding tendencies.” Which I think was, in part, true. But now that she’s gone, I realize there was something else to it. It was sort of a control thing, having something secret, even if it was a storage unit filled with junk. It scratched an itch somewhere. It used to feel like a “stash,” but now it’s just what it always was: ridiculous. Ya know, Jerry, when you’re alone, you’re not hiding things from anyone anymore. You’re just doing things for yourself or against yourself.

Yancey’s TopLine Motors

Say it with me, boys, roh-tah-ree; it’s a rotary engine. That’s a selling point that you should know. Only Mazda made’em, and they break down less. Look it up. If you’re an expert, you’ll put more money in yer pocket, see? If you want, I can come around, let’s see, most Tuesdays to chat about the cars with ya. Hell, I don’t care what Jack would like or not; I’m the customer here, am I right? So I’ll come around, and we can get to know these cars a little better. Here, give these keys to Jack and tell him she rides nice, but I need to think about it some more. 

GreenwayToll Booth #3

I bet you thought I’d go to booth #2 today, with the line the way it was. Do you know what you get when you’re a retired widower? Time. Heaploads of it, heh-heh! Hey, how many people go through here each day, anyway? I’d like to run some numbers on revenue. I’ve got a bet with a guy at Rebounder that one toll booth alone makes at least ten grand a week. He says I’m nuts, and he’s probably right. Does a guy come around and pick up the cash at some point? Is he armed? I’ll bet he is, yep. Most people don’t realize that big business is happening all around them. We just don’t notice it unless it’s fancy. Toll booths are absolutely big business. What am I tellin' you for? You’ve probably forgotten more big business than I’ve ever been around, heh-heh! Okay-Okay, Christ Almighty, we can all hear your horn, Buster! I’m goin'. I’m goin'!

Rebounder Bar and Grill

It’s the biggest racket ever perpetrated on the buying public. An outright assault on the intelligence of the post-war housewife. The paper products scandal. What do you mean, what do I mean? You’ve never stopped to think about the screw job these “household companies” put on American families for decades? You know there was a time, not so long ago, when a family didn’t have to buy paper towels, toilet paper, tissues, AND napkins. Four friggin' products, different purchases, for the same damned thing. When did Americans become so fancy-pants weak that they couldn’t wipe things up with a standard napkin? Listen, you put a hand towel in your kitchen and each bathroom and a stack of napkins alongside it, and you’re done. You’re good. I mean, it’s the biggest brainwashing in recorded history that no one talks about! Let me ask you somethin': when’s the last time you found a napkin in your pants and weren’t grateful for it? It ain’t like findin’ a 10-dollar bill, but it won’t let you down. Bloody noses, a mustard accident, wipin' oil off yer dipstick; napkin utility is pretty endless if ya think about it. But people don’t; they really don’t think about these things. But they should. We’d all be a little better off. Any more coffee back there?

Sanchez Gas N Go

I look forward to our talks, young master Sanchez. Lotta folks say they wouldn’t want to do it all over again, that they’re happy where they are in life, but I don’t know. I sure wouldn’t mind steppin’ into yer sneakers, kid — the whole world ahead of ya, prime of yer life. Why there’s no reason a fella like you can’t get the schooling ya need, make some connections, take a few risks, win some, lose some, meet a girl, meet a whole gaggle of girls, find the right one, be a titan of industry, move and shake, get outta things before they get too risky, but get what’s yours before ya do, high tail it out of the big city, then watch sunsets with your lady, a big batch of sunsets with your lady. Doesn’t that sound nice, Sanchez? No, that’s okay; I understand you’re busy. Gas stations are big business, I tell ya!

Menagerie Bistro

What in the actual heck do you mean? It was just a theory I had that it wasn’t her idea to sit me by the door or back there by the john. I simply indicated a higher power here at the bistro, maybe you, had it out for me. And now that we’re talking, perhaps you can tell me if I’m onto something. Okay, so you won’t admit it; that’s fine. I come here for the pie; I think everyone knows that. What if you give me a locker back there, and I come in here, same time, same days, don’t say a damned word to anyone, and walk to that locker where you place a piece of pie. I’ll take it, leave the money, then walk straight out. Only you and I will have the combination to the, uh, pie locker. Ya follow?

Jerry’s Fence Line

—in summation, I’d go back to the church if they just did the simplest damn things. Let women be priests, and let all of em marry! Was there ever an easier way to shape up the ship? And priests are ‘married to the church’ like ‘corporations are people.’ Horseshit! Oh, and I’m sorry, you can’t be against abortion and birth control. Christ in a top hat! It’s like askin' folks to lose weight on a buttermilk diet.

Yancey’s TopLine Motors

They said that? The lot boys said that? Well, those ungrateful sons-a-guns. Those jackhammers couldn’t tell a customer the difference between undercoating and rust-proofing. And if the customer thinks they’re the same thing, how do you charge separate, Jack? Give me a few weeks with those fellas, and I’ll bet your sales will jump 20%. And I don’t want a dime for it; just keep the coffee brewin'. A time suck? You can’t be serious. Since when is education a ‘time suck?’ I’m not here to tell you yer business, Jack, but this isn’t how your Pops ran the place, rest his soul. Okay, I understand; I’ve got other irons in the fire anyway. Maybe I come back next month. We all take a little break and pick it back up in spring. You’ll have a new slate of vehicles by that time, and I can — only if they want — help’em out a bit. Understand the features, so forth.

GreenwayToll Booth #3

Hey, yer new, huh? Oh, I see; yeah, you’re usually in #1. Ya know, I’ve never gone through #1; not much of a shoulder over there, always a little worried when I don’t have my winter radials on. You can’t be too careful. Vera out today? Good, good, everyone should take a day off. Hope it’s for something fun, like a balloon festival or taking a kid to the circus or something. Come to think of it, I hope it’s not anything serious, like surgery, a death in the family, or garden variety depression. See, my wife died — 48 years, almost got to the big 5-0 — so I know a thing or two about grief, trying to strap back into life. Hey, while I gotcha, you wouldn’t know anything about the weekly revenue on one of these booths, wouldja? I’ve got a bet with a fella down at Rebounder. You ever go there? I don’t drink anymore, but it’s good for conversation, and their BLT is to die for, though not as good as my Gail used to make. OKAY, OKAY, yer horn is working; everyone can hear it now! Pajamas on a goddamned pony!

Rebounder Bar and Grill

Ya see, I’ve got a friend over there at the Greenway Booth #3. Vera’s her name; we go back a bit. Actually, she’s got me a little worried. She was out today, and her sub couldn’t tell me why. Probably not allowed to, employee privacy laws being what they are. Anyway, I talk to her replacement, see, and she tells me it’s a good deal more than 10 G’s per week coming through each booth. So this BLT’s on you, bub. Yer lucky I didn’t order prime rib!

Jerry’s Fence Line

The guys at the bar asked whether I do the circuit because I’m worried about money, or cheap, or feel somehow entitled because of being screwed over by one thing or another, or if it’s just, ya know, the thrill of the heist? You know what I say back? I tell’em all of the above. If this is my version of going postal, everyone should feel lucky. The little things in life can make all the difference, Jerry — for instance, a wad of napkins. I'd never have met Gail if I hadn’t had a wad of napkins in my windbreaker that day in 1967. She was eating a Chicago Dog at the train station and spilled neon green relish all over her bright white sweater. Man-oh-man, I was Johnny-on-the-spot. Real gentlemen-like, I asked her to the movies, and the rest is…well, it’s history. 

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