The Skillz Report

July 30, 2014

 

I'm fired from my old job IRL, AT Systems, for bringing back a bag of money with a hole in it. I'm forced to go outback and select a trash can from a tall stack with which to collect my belongings. First of all: what the hell do I have at work to require a large trash can to remove it, and second: how could I let myself get fired for a damaged money bag without at least pilfering $ from said bag?

 

 

July 29, 2014

 

My BFF Alex has moved away, leading me to have sex with someone who I really shouldn't for a variety of reasons. Things shift to a San Francisco courtroom where I am suing some clown for an unspecified act. I'm forced to share a bus with the defendant and witnesses but before doing so, my signature is needed on about 200 documents. After about 10, I got fed up and storm out, riding with my old pal Jenn instead.

 

Next thing I know, I'm Yadier Molina, and I'm showing up my opponents by tapping home plate with my hand to score (rather than just stepping on it.) Later I'm Pedro Feliz and I fail to score from 1st on long XBH. Duane Kuiper (my manager or coach) is pissed and blames other players who were to "keep an eye on me", even when I accept full blame myself. End vision.

 

 

July 28, 2014

 

I'm in a classroom of some sort, where my cousin Raishaun is going out of his way to try and make me laugh. Eventually I (and other mates) do, loudly, and my other cousin Lando complains to the professor about the noise in full earshot of us. I lose it and threaten (promise) to kick the shit out of him at a time TBD.

 

When the class ends, I make a point to remind him of his pending ass-whuppin; he doesn't need reminding. Rather than fighting, however, next thing I know I'm trying unsuccessfully to preserve a video game no-hitter. That de-escalated quickly.

 

 

July 27, 2014

 

I have driven my work truck to a thrift shop, where I find a $2 book for Josie that I must have. The register is outdoors and before I know it, I'm back in my truck somehow. Refusing to taint my company name, I rush to pay for my product before finishing my route.

 

This route takes place in a fictional 707 neighborhood, and I'm able to blow through the first half in a breeze. However, I have a Benicia island delivery and no clue how to get there efficiently. I sit staring at my map for so long that Josie materializes behind me in a car seat.

 

Tonight's lesson: it is possible to be so confused that you grow a kid in your backseat.

 

 

July 25, 2014

 

I'm a taxi driver, headed down 680 care-free when I spot a couple sitting in the number two lane, as if staging a protest of some sort. Somehow they avoid being flattened, and I quickly pull over to summon the CHP at a pay phone. Yes, a pay phone. The guy answers, takes my statement, and types....and types...and types.

 

I ask if I can go and am told no, forced to stay there and listen to him type silently for what feels like a month. What the hell else could he need? I decide that I've done all I can and if the sitting couple get squished, my conscience is clear. CLICK

 

Skip to an episode of Burn Notice, where apparntly I'm now Jesse. I've stumbled across a different kind of burn—an entire 1/2 mile of flaming buildings! Michael is doggedly barking orders; as we examine one building for evacuees, a drunk lady nearly tumbles to her death. Michael and I save her but when we attempt rescue of her comically obese cats, I'm bitten. Screw that.

 

As for the anti-climactic ending: ultimately, we slide into a basement-type room and figure out (solely by the electrical sockets) that a trapdoor needs to be activated to facilitate further rescue. We do so, it helps somehow.  At that moment, my slumber ends.

 

 

July 24, 2014

 

Perhaps this Night Visions trend of interviewing hoop stars is a sign of things to come IRL; I can only hope.

 

Tonight it's Shaq's turn; I remember nothing about our dialogue but do recall my cousin Lando naming off random elderly/deceased celebrities upstairs, including Dan Rather and Bea Arthur. Why this is, I do not know, but he seems proud so I don't press him.

 

Eventually my career changes to the more-familiar paratransit driver. It's about 2:50 and I have a 3:30 pickup I'm too anxious to wait for. I visit dispatch and all but beg her for something sooner; she obliges by giving me a 3:16 to pick up Lando from the dentist. I'm so ecstatic that I don't realize I'm driving the wrong way up a one-way road to get him. End vision.

 

 

July 23, 2014

 

I'm rushing to take the elevator in some crappy, dingy building. When I get there it is crowded—but at least I'm in there! However, some clown takes it upon himself to make fun of me; I can't even remember what about but it was personal. In true 8-Mile fashion, I steal his thunder by admitting my own flaws and shortcomings before he can—leaving him with zero insult material and finally shutting him up.

 

Next, I'm interviewing of all people, former A's reliever Jim Corsi (in my subconscious because of the recent A's World Series '89 anniversary gala.) I ask about his famous palmball but before he can answer, he's now Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and we're talking basketball. Kareem has a reputation IRL as a sour guy, but he couldn't be any more jovial and candid with yours truly. We even make a future interview date!

 

 

July 22, 2014

 

Back to the 1250 for this one. At first I'm in my old bedroom changing clothes, when I realize the blinds are open. Rushing to shut them before anyone is traumatized, I scan trouble in the church parking lot next door (IRL there is a house and street between the 1250 and the church, but it was still very easily visible from my window.)

 

Police are there, chaos is abound. But I can never figure out what is going on despite several minutes of spying. The curiousity consumes me; I change positions and windows trying in vain to uncover the truth—never once thinking to, you know, actually walk over there. 

 

Suddenly, night falls, and I've forgotten to wheel the dumpster around for pickup the next day. But once I hurry outside, none other than Uncle Bubba has beaten me to it! I am amazed to see my uncle alive after four years, and wonder where he's been. He's hesitant to reveal anything—only when I suggest he "just needed a break" does he admit to just that. We position the dumpster together in a scene both heartwarming and gross.

 

 

July 21, 2014

 

I am at a park with my buddy, hoping to play basketball. To our chagrin, what appears to be a huge family gathering has spilled over to the basketball courts. Not only can we not easily access the courts, but some of the youth is now scootering and rollerblading on one of the full courts.

 

As my boy and I contemplate our next move, my cousin Raishaun shows up. Behind his unmoving demeanor, we simply take over the courts. Well, the one in the very back, anyway.

 

Skip: I'm now in what appears to be Home Depot, in search of one of those chain pens you see at banks, medical offices, etc. I ask a clerk if they sell such pens; the clerk only shrugs. I am dumbfounded. "That's IT?" I exclaim before shuttling down the aisle in search of competent help.

The female staffer I encounter next does know where the pens are, but she insists on interrogating me before sharing that info—what's my career, how do I plan to use it (how do I plan to use it?!) and more until I finally get fed up and split. My dream of owning a chain pen remains unfulfilled.

 

 

July 20, 2014

 

Vision A) My buddies Nate, Aldo and Fleazoe are at the 1250 with me, chillin. I go to use the can...but it's occupied. I go to use another can—also occupied. Two hours (not realtime) pass, I head back to the first can but Nate is still in there. "OCCUPIED!" he yells. At that point I realize this deuce will not be dropped. (This may stem from an occupied IRL bathroom at my preferred laundromat earlier in the day.)

 

Vision B) I am fixin' burgers on the stove for my cousin and I, but they just won't cook. I flip them, the burner is on...but mostly pink. He finally gets tired of waiting and cooks his own on a separate burner, which seem to do okay. Mine, however—they might as well still have four legs. 

Lesson of the night: you don't always get what you want when you want it—patience, Skillz.

 

 

July 17, 2014

 

I am doing a route with a colleague and a supervisor; the why isn't clear but for some reason he's busted and won't admit it. I decide to go off-route and drive to 535 14th Street, where the proof apparently lies. The business doesn't use a conventional elevator—I have to ride in a trash can (with bag) that is pulled upstairs. Dodging an arguing pair of employees from another suite, I hop in...

 

...but we skip to my mom's apartment. I am sorting fictional 1987 Topps Traded cards; she is decorating and staging in anticipation of a family Christmas dinner, even though the holiday was already over. I get on the horn to my boyz Nate and Aldo to spread the word of free grub.

 

The duo must have been leaning against my mom's car or something because within seconds after I hang up—they're coming up the stairs.

Throughout the night visions, I'm peppered with repeated clips of a protest that, though rowdy, only turned violent when a small group of troublemakers decided to attack minorities, yelling "Fascists!"—a term most minorities I've encountered aren't familiar with. Or non-minorities, for that matter.

 

 

July 15, 2014

 

Four friends and I are piling in a car for a baseball game; suddenly things skip and I'm driving an armored truck through a cordoned-off parking lot—whatever crime has taken place seems serious. As I'm trying to navigate an exit, a cat throws itself in a compartment between the hood and tire. This means I cannot move unless I want to crunch its bones, which obviously would be mean. 

 

After many tries I've finally tricked the cat away from my truck and am on my way. Throughout the parking lot I find massive pieces of what used to be a sandwich strewn about—buns, lettuce, etc. (No doubt triggered by Josie's play food "feast" earlier in the evening.) Some of them have chalk outlines. Clearly I've been pinned in this parking lot because a sandwich was murdered.

 

 

July 13, 2014

 

All General Hospital, except this time I am part of the show. Real GH character Rafe (a teen) has died suddenly, and I'm meeting with his friend Molly and her beau, TJ. I'm under the impression Molly has long been made aware of her friend's passing....but I'm dead wrong, and she is absolutely destroyed. "I'm so sorry! I would have told you but I thought for sure somebody else had!" She knows, and scampers off to mourn with TJ in tow.

 

Eventually Molly's mom, Alexis (a lawyer) finds out I spilled the beans—and for unexplained reasons, is angry! She vows to make me pay legally. Meanwhile, I'm visiting Edward Quartermaine (a character who died two years ago when his actor died IRL), as I apparently regularly do at the hospital. Is this a hospital or a nursing home? Whatever the case, I sit down for my latest chop-it-up session with the elderly billionaire.

His longtime maid, Alice, was stricken with heart failure on the show but seems 100% now, and walks out to greet us. My throwaway "Hey, Alice, glad you're doing better" sends Edward's vitals off the charts and he nearly keels over. I hadn't said a word about her life-threatening illness; for all he knew I was referring to a cold. Mr. Q quickly recovers and goes back to his colorful rambling.

 

(FYI, even when they're not particularly interesting, GH visions will be posted for my friend Tammy, even knowing she's likely my only visitor who cares at all.)

 

 

July 12, 2014

 

I am doing delivery training (as the trainee). I am tasked with taking two identical packages with built-in receipts to separate motel rooms—one upstairs, one downstairs. The upstairs guy comes out of the downstairs room wanting a receipt for his item. I am so overloaded and undertrained at the moment until the vision skips.

 

I am out walking Josie (yes, walking my child) when I pass a mom and kid on a stoop. Suddenly the setting becomes a restaurant, and the husbad/dad has joined them. For reasons unexplained, I bring the dad multiple helpings of ravioli as my mom and daughter chow down on corn on the cob. I'm doing such a fine job with the ravioli that the section's waitress sits down with my family.

 

Mixed in is a Simpsons episode where the characters are trying to stomp out the word "faggot", as well as a night out with old friend Zin at a library/arcade (???). Yeah, great times, I'm sure. "Can you direct me to the Non-Fiction games?"

 

 

July 11, 2014

 

These are the kind of night visions I enjoy sharing—they're all over the place and make zero sense.

 

Vision A went down at Safeway, which is an hour from closing but not letting in any other customers. I buy a couple of pots and head to the center of the driveway to concoct a mysterious recipe. Soon, a staffer shouts thru the window "Did you buy that (the pots)?" This is a direct reference to an IRL incident last month, where a Grocery Outlet Bargain Market staffer more-or-less accused me of stealing bread and peanut butter. But that's another story and I'm not here to talk about the past.

 

I cheerfully thumbs-up the staffer and finish my recipe—even remembering to courteously drag my materials out of the road.

Next thing I know, I'm at some mall-type store. It's unclear if I'm security or not, but I'm sure acting like it. I somehow become aware of a softball team missing one of its' players, and direct her to the exit. In fact, I lead the way from the store to the field. There, a community bus driver is being chastised by one of his own relatives outside his bus. He goes into a passioned speech: "If you wanna complain about the #1 bus driver of the #1 bus service in all of (whatever city), here's the phone number." When I leave, he's still pontificating.

 

Next—and I swear on everything and everyone I hold dear this is true—I'm slated to play softball of my own with some buds from a Meetup.com group I was once part of. When I roll up, my old friend Arsenio Hall is waiting for me. We catch up; I ask him how he's doing with his latest show cancelled. He seems to be holding up well. It should be noted that the name Arsenio Hall hadn't entered my mind in months; before his newest show, it had been since the 1990's. 

 

Soon, I'm due to bat. IRL, our group never counted K's. Here, they do—I'm out on four pitches, pissed and back in my car without telling anyone. Next thing I know my mom is on the phone; the softball group is convinced I committed suicide over the strikeout so she needs to hear my voice.

Things end with an episode of Beverly Hills, 90210. I can recall Valerie and Clare gal-palling around (never happened IRL) and an awkward moment between Brandon and Dylan (must be post-Kelly "I choose me"; if you watched the show you definitely remember.) God, I miss that show.

 

 

July 3-9, 2014

 

I apologize for the lack of recent updates. It was a very busy 4th of July weekend, one involving much preparation and one requiring much recovery time. There weren't any standout, classically bizarre visions in this period—both fortunate and unfortunate, I suppose.

 

• July 9: My friend Alex and I are smooching in a gas station parking lot (this vision no doubt is triggered by Alex' IRL disgust with me that night over a choice I made). Mixed in is my work on a remodeled building with a leaky pipe caused by the running washing machine. WTF does laundry in an unfinished building? Those I associate with, apparently. Later, I become the father of my friend Arnell's kids for some unexplained reason.

• July 8: I find some teen punk in my driver's seat and threaten him. My mom is a delivery driver with me a backseat passenger. Cliff Huxtable confronts Theo over the gun he found in Theo's shower. (Like that tribe of kids could have their own shower.)

• July 7: Pickup hoops in a parking lot; I am playing TOUGH defense. Someone taunts me on a bike and I kill him with a pan. An old college classmate who I crushed on inexplicably IRL, Noel, works at CSAA. I make a date with her and kiss her like it's nothing though we haven't seen each other in over a decade (and were never friends.) Disjointed crap about Monique, The Jeffersons, Seinfeld and a trip to Las Vegas...no possible common denominator there.

• July 6: I am racing to the 1250 from the shopping center up the way but cannot cross the busy Redwood Street because of a roadblock. Whatever urgent situation was waiting for me at the 1250, we'll never know. Perhaps somebody bought pizza and couldn't get the box open.

• July 5: Friends and I are carrying furniture in a guy's house as he sits in a corner observing. At one point it takes five of us to carry a lone couch inside. Skip to a new Costco and Sears, both of which are now the size of a 7-Eleven.

• July 3: This one alternated between me playing baseball against an old IRL teacher (Mr. Oullette) in my bathroom, pitching to some teenage girl against a wall, and watching an actual game (the details of which didn't stick.) During a later, necessary nap, I'm watching a game on TV thru some funky camera-angles. Shaq rejects a three-point shot from the foul line, beats the shooter to the loose ball, then takes it all the way for a go-ahead slam. Who shot the ball, a chipmunk?

 

 

July 2, 2014

 

Tonight was about five visions woven into one. Segments include:

• a Colts/49ers game with a Colt scoring on a near 100-yard run. But not only is the play overturned upon review, but so is the entire possession. When SF gets the ball they line up—then suddenly run down the tunnel for halftime. Cameras show Colts QB Joe Montana (not a typo) stunned on the sideline...

• I'm a bus driver in training, and apparently the method we use to attract riders is writing our route number (32 in this case) on a torn slip of paper and hawking it inside a nearby coffee shop. Even though my trainer is "down", all the brothas in the shop laugh at him. No riders join us there, but when we return to the bus some riders have assembled. But we don't drive them because...

• ...I'm home watching what appears to be a Warriors/Knicks game from Madison Square Garden. John Starks is a Warrior here, and he scores back-to-back layups to close a Knick lead. The Knicks' inbounds pass hits a Warrior in the back of the head and a scrum for the ball ensues...between all 10 players on the floor! Somehow, referee Dick Bavetta gets caught up in the scrum with a player's arm inadvertantly choking him. 

 

 

When the dust clears, Muggsy Bogues and Patrick Ewing are fighting for the ball and Bavetta is thrashing on the ground for breath. (The cameraman is only interested in Bogues and Ewing.)

 

 

July 1, 2014

 

Of all people, Luke Perry appeared to me lastnight. I am a huge fan of the original 90210 but it hasn't been on my mind lately. Yet there Mr. Dylan McKay himself was, being interviewed by me. I got the sense he didn't want to talk too much about 90210 so instead I asked him about what it took to legally change his name (apparently, Perry's original name is European and considerably longer. At least INV.)

 

Eventually we skip to a movie, which I'm unsure if I'm watching or participating in. In any event, a baseball team with A.J. Ellis (Dodgers catcher IRL) is touring a shopping mall—more specifically a coffee shop. His wife, Penelope Cruz, orders coffee from a barista who apparently doubles as Ellis' "other woman" when off-duty. The barista gives her a hard time so Cruz chants for service over and over again until ordered to leave.

 

Eventually the entire mall collapses, as no one has noticed it's scheduled for demolition—not even the businesses operating inside it. As far as I can tell, there are no casaulties. At some point "Straight Up" by Paula Abdul begins to play. It's never sounded better and I actually stay in the room until it finishes playing.

 

 

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