Thursday, June 28, 2012

The Road to Hell is Paved with Good Intentions


"Drivers Wanted" the sign had said. Nothing about job experience or having to pee in a cup to prove I'm narcotic free, nothing about "must work weekends" or "part time only". I needed a job, driving's a skate; I said I was interested, I was in...BOOM! Easiest job I've ever gotten.

So I'm sitting here at this decaying shell of a former gas station in the middle of the desert, just me and a few buzzards and a huge mesa that juts out of the ground nearby as if it was a cup in a giant's cup and ball shell game.


It took me a moment to recognize what was nailed to the wall, but I see I'm looking at the map of the route I'm to take; and if I'm not mistaken it's a series of tunnels and ramps that lead downward through the mesa, seeming like the destination might be China. It looks a little hairy but having raced motorcycles, I'm accustomed to tight turns and rapid acceleration; I should be fine.


Then this guy in a black suit appears out of nowhere, hands me an envelope stuffed with cash and keys to a vehicle, and then waves me to follow him inside the dilapidated garage. A Lamborghini awaits, facing the mini mountain, lemon yellow and polished so highly that even in the shade it near blinds me. I slipped into the leather seat before I'd even thought about how bizarre the situation is.


I rifle through the cash packet, something seems way out of line.


"Man! It looks like there's 10,000 dollars in here mister" I say to the suit.


"20 thousand to be exact" he replies in this weird, phase shifted voice. "And there's plenty more once you prove yourself an able driver."


"Hey listen" I say, my mind racing down dark and Columbian Cartel paved streets, "I'm not into illegal transportation. I don't do the drug thing."


Then the guy digs out a few boxes from what looks like an old freezer and slides them in the passenger seat with a smile.


"Nothing illegal son, just some ice cream for my boss is all. It's just that, well, drive fast is all I can say; he really hates it when his Heavenly Hash is melted and it gets a little warm where you're off to."


"Where am I off to exactly" I called out as the car started itself and slid into gear without my help.


"Oh you'll recognize it when you get there" he laughed as the vehicle spun out and started for the sandstone hump. "Just ask for His Everpresent Darkness, the gatekeepers'll take care of you!"

1 comment:

  1. Lovely!
    His Disgrace does enjoy a Frobisher and Gleeson Raspberry Ice lolly.

    ReplyDelete