Been layin’ low in Albuquerque, New Mexico fer awhile; we came here a coupla weeks ago - me, Dong, Tyler an’ Grumpy Bill- after these guys from this hingmy…. this group a people called R.U.N. (the Roadie Underground Network), helped us escape from the Huey Lewis and the News tour, an’ now we’re just hangin’ around the group’s headquarters waitin’ ta git back home. The guys from R.U.N. are a purty swell buncha guys. They’ve been lookin’ after us an’ makin’ sure we git fed a coupla times a day an shit.
The thing is it’s kinda borin’ here. There ain’t much ta do an’ we have ta stay in hidin’ all the time in case the cops or guys workin’ for Huey Lewis come lookin’ fer us. Roger, that’s the guy who’s boss a this group, he tells us that we can’t go out, we can’t leave the R.U.N. headquarters, an since their headquarters is a Wal-Mart on the edge a town, there ain’t no reason fer us to go out anyways since Wal-Mart’s got everything a man could ask for – sleepin’ bags, ice chests, watermelon flavoured soda, huntin’ rifles, socks, gold-plated necklaces with #1 Dad written on ‘em, the new Taylor Swift cd’s with the parental advisory sticker on ‘em – you name it, this place has got it an’ it’s ours ta use so long as we don’t attract the attention of the employees who work here.
‘Actually the employees probably won’t give a shit, since they all make minimum wage and have no health insurance…but all the same, be careful,’ Roger says.
However, if we do need to leave the headquarters fer any reason, then Roger tells us we need ta make sure we’re wearing our disguises – a afro wig an’ a pair a glasses with a large plastic nose attached ta it. The other guys are happy to stay put, but me, I’m itchin’ ta get out an’ see the sites. After all, this is Albuquerque, the place where my all-time favourite movie of all time takes place; yup, the mighty High School Musical. An opportunity like this comes along only once in a lifetime, so there’s NOOO WAAAY I’m just gonna sit here an’ do nothin’. No fuckin’ way! I ain’t just gonna sit here all day hidin’ out one of the store’s bathroom stalls, eatin’ cold Dinty Moore stew outta a can, drinkin’ warm grape soda an’ lookin’ at pictures a Pamela Anderson in People magazine when just across town Troy Bolton could be mowing his dad’s front lawn or Sharpay Evans could be buyin’ socks at the local Payless Shoes. I mean, Christ, at this very moment, Chad Danforth could be getting grounded by his parents fer lookin’ at porn on the internet!
So one day I figger that I’m gonna try ta make it over ta East High –nip out in disguise an just have a poke around, see if I can catch a glimpse a Troy or Gabriella or even that chubby chick that’s inta breakdancin,’ maybe even score an autograph or somethin’- no big deal right, I mean it ain’t like I’m gonna enroll there, right?
Unfortunately, things didn’t quite go accordin’ ta plan. Fer starters I didn’t find no East High in Albuquerque. I get my wig an’ funny glasses on so no one will recognize me and go to the public library to look up East High. I ask the librarian if she knows where East High is an’ she tells me that there isn’t one. But I think she’s wrong. There’s gotta be a East High High School; I’ve seen it on TV. So I tell her. ‘Lady, yer either a total liar or yer just plain stupid; don’t care which it is, but yer wrong. There IS a East High in Albuquerque. I seen it on TV alla the time. I even seen it in the movies last month! So youse gotta be wrong!’
The librarian, some bored-lookin’ chick who’d actually be a total hotty if she dressed a little better, y’know maybe a real short skirt with a leopard print on it, or a tight t-shirt with a v-neck…somethin’ that really shows off her titties, anyway she don’t say nothin’ to me, she just peers at me over the rims a her glasses an’ shakes her head.
‘If you don’t wanna help me then fine, I’ll do it myself!’ I tell her. ‘I’ll just look it up in the phone book, so hah!’
The bored-lookin’ librarian just rolls her eyes at me. ‘Whatever,’ she sighs.
By now I’m gettin’ real pissed. No way a librarian is gonna get the better of me. Not Brad A. Hassebrock. I mean, where does she come off thinkin’ she’s better than me. She’s a LIBRARIAN fer chirssakes, what the fuck’s she know? So I says somethin’ that will really cut her to the bone.
‘Y’know, when I first saw ya, I wuz thinkin’ a askin’ ya out fer a nice romantic dinner or something,’ I says. ‘Maybe Arby’s where we could get soma them curly fries an’ maybe split a mocha shake?. Then we could go get a room at the Travelodge or someplace an’ have a bit a fun, if ya know what I mean. But not anymore. You just BLEW IT! Yeah, how’s it feel ta know what ya ain’t gonna have?!’
But without missin’ a beat the librarian picks up this red phone that’s on her desk. ‘Listen creep,’ she says. ‘I’ll give you until the count of five to walk away and leave me alone or else I call security. And don’t be thinking that they’ll just escort you out. Our security team is made up of disgruntled ex-LAPD. They get ahold a you an’ they’ll punch holes in your chest using your own dismembered dick!! Got that?!’
I look over an’ see one a them security guards comin’ over to the desk – a big mother fucker with a tattoo on the side a his neck. I throw my hands up.
‘Heh, erm. Sorry ‘bout that,’ I says to the librarian, an’ start backin’ away. ‘Just let my emotions get the best a me. I’ll just go find the phone books. No hard feeling, eh?’
‘One…Two…’
‘Ummm…can you tell me where the phone books are?’
So I spend hours thumbin’ through the phone book. I even check the phone books from 1989, just ta be safe. Nuthin.’ Well, fuck, this really throws a kink in my plans. Then I think back to this movie I saw once where it comes up on the screen that all the names and places in the movie had been changed to protect the innocent or somethin’ like that – Star Wars, I think the movie wuz called. But I figger, that if they did it with Star Wars then maybe they did the same thing fer High School Musical. Shit, fer all I know they do that with every movie; and books an’ shit, too. Then I start thinkin’ – what if I’m supposed to be changing my name ; I mean what if some OTHER guy named Brad Hassebrock happens ta read this an’ decides ta sue me. Oh shit…the whole thing starts ta give me the willies. So I'm gettin' all discouraged now an' figger 'fuck this, I'm gonna take a break,' an go look fer a bite ta eat or drink or somethin'; just try ta get ma shit together until I figger out what ta do.
I see this pub (although I guess they’re called ‘bars’ over here) and go in fer a drink an’ ta calm my nerves. The place is kinda dark and quiet, not too many people here this time a the day. There’s a big-ass plate glass window in front, but it don’t let in much light. Most of the light comes from neon beer signs behind the bar and jukebox in the corner. The floors are sticky an’ the place smells like piss an’ stale beer, reminds me a The Silver Fish back home. There’s only three other people in here from what I can tell, a pudgy Mexican bartender an’ these two old cowboy-lookin’ guys at the end a the bar. I walk in an’ nobody pays any attention to me. There’s an old 12 inch TV perched on a shelf at the corner above the bar broadcastin’ some baseball game an’ the three guys are watchin’ that. The game cuts away to a commercial an’ the bartender changes the channel over to this talk show, 'Jeremy Springer' – y'know, that one with that big bald guy an’ the old guy that wears those glasses.
‘What the hell!’ shouts one of the old cowboys. ‘Goddamn you, turn it back to the game! We wanna watch the game!’
‘Fuck you, Clem! my daughter’s gonna be on this show,’ shouts the bartender.
‘C’mon, Eddie ya asshole, turn it back!’
‘It’s a fuckin’ commercial break, an anyway the Diamondbacks are down by five in bottom of the seventh, ain’t no way they’re comin’ back from that,’ Eddie shouts. ‘Now shut up, my baby girl’s gonna come on any minute now.’
‘Fuck yer baby girl, Bob an’ me’s got 15 bucks ridin’ on this game,’ Clem shouts back, nudging his pal in the stool next to him. ‘So turn it back over.’
‘Yeah,’ his friend adds.
The bartender, his face turns red and he points to the two old cowboys. ‘Watch what you’re sayin’ about my daughter, or I’ll cut the both of y’all off an’ throw you out on yer ASS! Now you two gonna shut up?’
‘The two old cowboy guys cringe. ‘Sorry Eddie, don’t mean nuthin’ personal by it.’
‘Yeah, we’re real sorry ‘bout that,’ Bob says. ‘We just wanna watch the rest of the game.’
Eddie smiles. ‘That’s better,’ he says. ‘Now as soon as my girl’s part is done, I’ll turn it back over to the game; should still be on.’
Then Eddie sees me an’ takes my order – a beer an’ a bowl a chilli. But I’ve gotta wait awhile fer my order to come because in the middle of this Eddie’s daughter is on TV. Today’s show is about strippers who’ve dumped their elderly sugar daddies ta be with their lesbian midget lovers. Eddie’s girl – she’s introduced as Roxy – is one a them strippers. She ain’t too bad lookin’- she’s got a gold tooth an’ a bit of a belly on her – but I’d definitely do her. Anyway she comes on an sits in this chair next ta this really old guy, who looks like he’s 90 if he’s a day, a real frail-lookin’ fucker. Jeremy (or Jerry – whatever the fuck’s name, the dude with the glasses) says somethin’ to the both a them an’ then Roxy an’ the old guy start arguing, ‘cept I can’t pick up what the argument’s about because every other word is bleeped out an’ the audience starts oooing and aahing. Eddie starts yellin’ at the TV cheerin’ his daughter on. ‘Yeah, get ‘im Roxy! Let that geriatric motherfucker have it!’
Then glasses man interrupts them an’ start’s talkin’ into the camera. ‘Well, let’s bring out our next guest. This is Roxy’s lover, Felicia. Let’s bring Felicia out.’
Then this black chick comes out, a really short bitch that probably only comes up to about my nuts. An’ at first I can’t even tell if she’s a chick, ‘cos she’s so butch, got real short hair and she’s wearin’ the kinda shit a construction worker would wear – y’know , jeans, work boots, a denim shirt. She’s like a miniature version of Sharon, my ex-wife’s girlfriend. As soon as she comes out from backstage she rushes up to the old codger, start’s beatin’ on him, swearin’ at him, callin’ him all kindsa names. The studio audience goes nuts. Eddie goes nuts. Even the two old cowboys at the end of the bar start whoopin’ it up, shoutin’ at the TV. The old guy tries ta defend himself an’ gets in a couple a swings, but it’s just too much fer him. Finally that big bald guy an’ a coupla other security guys in black shirts are called in’ ta pry tha midget offa him. After a coupla seconds, things start ta calm down a bit an’ the camera goes back to the dude with the glasses.
‘When we come back we’ll meet another couple,’ he says. ‘Joe says he wants to break up with his girlfriend of two weeks Tammi, because he’s got a shocking secret to reveal. But Tammi says she’s got a shocking secret of her own. Find out what it is after this commercial break.’
A commercial fer some debt management company comes on, but by this time the cowboys have forgotten about the baseball game. They keep goin’ on about how awesome that Roxy’s girlfriend wuz, an’ how that old geezer gut what wuz comin’ to him. But mostly, they talk about what a looker that Roxy is.
‘Damn, Eddie,’ Clem says. ‘You yerself good by that girl a yers, she’s a fiiine lookin’ woman.’
‘Yup,’ Bob chimes in. ‘Hell, if I didn’t have my May on my ass alla the time, makin’ sure I’m not out cattin’ around…well, goddamn if I wouldn’t do her myself..’
Eddie smiles an’ blushes a bit. ‘Yeah, well me an’ Rosa tried to make that girl right, an’ now look at her…on national TV. Damn, if it don’t make a daddy proud.’
Eddie stands there fer a moment, smilin’ an takin’ it all in. In the dusky light of the bar, I see a tear in the corner of his eye.
Then Eddie snaps out of it an’ sees me sittin’ there. ‘Oh yeah, he says. ‘Sorry man.’ He disappears inta the back fer a minute then comes back with my bowl a chilli an’ a beer. He gives me a couple of packets of these really salty-lookin’ crackers to go with the chilli. I’m about ta ask him fer some bread but figger fuck it, this must be how they do it over here. So I open up one a them packets an’ dump them crackers on top a my chilli. It ain’t bad , kinda greasy, but fulla flavour. Beer’s good too, but real weak compared to the Tennants Super Lager back home. It’ll take me forever to get drunk offa this stuff.
I finish the bowl an think about orderin’ a second when this guy walks in, an’ first thing I notice is that he’s dressed in this red an’ white coaches outfit. Red an’ white – the colours of East High, I’m thinkin’. Hmmm.
‘Hey, Don,’ Eddie calls out to him. ‘How’s the team lookin’ this year?’
‘Ahhh, shit,’ Don grumbles. Don grabs a stool a couple feet from mine towards the middle of the bar an’ orders a bottle of beer. ‘ya’know the kids these days….alla buncha arrogant pricks; all think they’re hot shit, but none a them are worth a fuck.’
‘C’mon man,’ Eddie says. ‘It can’t be that bad; still early in the season, there’s gotta be some of them that have potential.’
Don thinks about this fer a second. ‘Well, there’s this Troy kid,’ he says. ‘He might have the goods; he’s got a pretty decent hook from centre court.’
Troy! I hear the name Troy an’ see the red an’ white outfit that this dude’s wearin’ an’ I put two an’ two together. Holy Fuck! East High is in Albuquerque after all! An this guy coaches fer them…an’ more importantly, he’s Troy Bolton’s coach! Sonuvabitch! I’m gonna get to meet the cast of High School Musical afterall!
TO BE CONTINUED .......
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