A Pretty Good Day

The other day I posted probably one of the most bland, generic posts I had ever posted. It was something to the effect that I had had the second nice day in a row.

A friend commented: “prove it”.

I posted: “~holds out a bear skin, seven crushed ping pong balls, an empty bottle of absinth, a policeman's cap and a fuzzy photo of what might or might not be Neil Patrick Harris crowd surfing at the Vatican~”

Another friend posted: “Will you include the story of a bear skin, seven crushed ping pong balls, an empty bottle of absinth, a policeman's cap and a fuzzy photo of what might or might not be Neil Patrick Harris crowd surfing at the Vatican in your next blog?”

How can I refuse:

The day before had been a hell-of-a good day. It was one of those days where everything went right. Everything we did proved to be more enjoyable than we could have hoped for. It was one of those days you realize is a great and memorable day while it’s still happening not later when things are not as pleasant.

At the end of the day I sighed and posted that it had been an excellent day. “Tomorrow can suck for all I care,” I added.

Watch what you wish for.

I awoke at 6:30 AM . I could hear the spa running beneath our balcony . I opened the sliding glass door to check it out. I’ve chased a number of people from the spa at odd hours, some who live in the building, some who jumped the fence, but I couldn’t have been more surprised when I peered over the railing on this particular morning. A full grown brown bear was in the spa, leaning upright against the corner. Large claws curled around a half filled bottle of Budweiser which answered the apposing thumb question. A small island of brown fur was floating and swirling among the bubbles and the smell of wet bear wafted up towards me. Though wet bear was something I’ve never smelled before, it was pretty much as I expected; a bouquet of garbage, wet dog and that unisex cologne that back-to-nature folks like to wear with a hint of fish market after a rainstorm.

“HEY,” I said. “do you have any idea what time it is?”

The bear bellowed loud enough to echo off the surrounding buildings. He lifted an arm to show me that he wore no watch and couldn’t tell time if he did, let alone respond with articulated speech.

I felt stupid.

I noticed a blond, bikini clad girl asleep on a lounge chair near the spa. I believe I had seen her in the parking garage from time-to-time. If I was remembering correctly, her name was Alison.

“YO, BRITNEY,” I said. “Get this stinking bear out of the spa.”

The girl merely rolled over on the lounge and groaned like a teenager being woken by a parent on a school day. The bear looked straight ahead at nothing in particular. He finished the Bud and casually tossed the bottle behind him over the fence with seven others where Russian preschoolers would discover them a few hours later.

I had to get rid this bear. Urinating on him from my balcony would not likely be as effective as it had been with all the other spa interlopers I had dispatched. I needed a plan.

I needed…

Confusion Man!

Of all the super heros, Confusion Man was the hardest to contact, but he owed me a favor on-account-of I had got him laid during an unfortunate dermatological period in his life. He was my best option I figured.

“Have you seen Confusion Man?” I asked Superman on the phone after having waited on hold for twenty minutes.

“Nah, I think he’s on vacation.”

“He tells everyone that. It’s part of the… you know.”

“Yeah, the confusion.”

“Say Super, um, maybe, if you’re not too busy…”

“Alright man, good luck. Tell that bastard he owes me some cash from that Redskins game. Ciao babe!”

Click

Four hours later after finding a secret contact page on Confusion Man’s website: blah-blah-blah.com, which took me a couple of hours to find itself, I walked into the restroom of a Mexican restaurant in Little Tokyo as the site had instructed. Behind the toilet tank I found a small red button that said “whatever you do, don’t push”.

I pushed it.

“Mushi mushi” someone said through a small speaker somewhere in the room in a suspiciously high pitched voice.

“Hey, um is this Confusion?”

“I don’t know, yes, maybe, no, no, definitely not,” said a relatively normal voice.

“Hey CM, it’s Jolty. I need some help.”

“Can’t do it man, can’t do it.”

“Damn! I’m really stuck and Superman, of course, is being a dick. Hey, you owe me ya know.”

“What’s your deal man, I said I’d help.”

“W-what? Oh yeah, right, right, right.”

I told him about the bear in my hot tub. He told me to step into his office. His ‘office’ turned out to be the broom closet in The Vatican, a nightclub across town in Santa Monica.

Confusion Man sat on an overturned mop bucket. He was wearing a Superman uniform but had a Star Wars storm trooper plating from the waist down and a Wonder Woman tiara on his head. He brandished a spatula like a scepter. His mascot dachshund, “Perplex Puppy” was chewing happily on a rag mop.

“As I see it, you’re screwed. It’s hopeless, I have no ideas” he said.

“That’s good,” I said, playing the game now.

“Go to the pier, under the pier and ask for a guy name Larry.” Confusion said. “He will have three things for you. Take them and slay your foe. Make sure not to close the door when you leave.”

I thanked CM and closed the door.

“Hey!” I heard him say.

I opened the door.

“Dude, I said not to close the door.”

“But I thought… you know…”

“If I did everything the same way all the time, that wouldn’t be too confusing, would it?” he said with a smile.

“Right.”

“One more thing,” he shouted after me. “On your way home; speed… like crazy.”

“Okay,” I said, appropriately confused.

Under the Santa Monica Pier I walked back and forth on the damp sand. The waves on the pillars echo’d in the strange shelter. I saw no one. A jogger passed through. She put a great deal of concentration into ignoring me.

“Larry?” I finally called out. Nothing. “LARRY!”

“I’m not Larry.” A voice behind me said.

I turned to see a heavily bearded man emerge from the dark pillars on the land side under the pier.

“Who are you?”

He shrugged. “Not Larry.”

I was confused… I must be on the right track!

“Confusion Man said you’d have some things for me,” I said.

“You got a blanket?”

“Um no. Was I supposed to?”

“No, I just need a one. How bout twenty bucks?”

“Um, Yeah sure.”

I went for my wallet.

“Keep it,” he laughed. “I’m just fuckin’ with ya, cept about the blanket,” he suddenly got serious again. “C’mon.”

The homeless man beckoned and returned from where he came.

I followed him into the dark forest of support columns I could feel the sand become drier and looser under my feet but I could see very little. As my eyes got used to the dark I could see the outline of him climbing down from one of the pillars on some unseen footholds. He approached me and handed me what appeared to be box of regulation ping pong balls and a small crystal vile of green liquid. He then took something large and heavy off his shoulders and threw it on mine.

“That is why I need the blanket.” He said before climbing back up the pillar into the dark.

“What’s in the bottle?”

“Hehe, that’s absinth, wood alcohol. Don’t drink it. Or… do, whatever.”

“Thanks Larry!” I said as I walked back towards the light.

“Not!” he shouted back.

The heavy thing, the light revealed, was a bear skin, complete with a stuffed head.

I had gotten nearly half way home before I remembered about speed. I gunned it right in front of a school zone. It was in front of an adult bookstore, however, where I was pulled over.

“License and registration please,” said the cop.

I noticed his name tag. “Nutt,” it said.

Officer Nutt went back to his car while I stewed at my super hero friend’s bad driving advice. He returned a few minutes later with his hat in his hand.

“Here, you’re going to need this.” He placed his cap on my head.

“Really? What for?”

“Mojo” he said with a perfectly timed thumbs up. “Taking on a bear… Man! You need the ‘MJ’!”

“Ah, Confusion?” I said.

“You and me both brother. Name’s Don.” He put out a hand I shook it.

“ ‘Don Nutt’? A cop named ‘Don Nutt’?” I said.

“Yeah, I don’t know which I like better the doughnut jokes or the Barney Fife jokes."

“How do I get this back to you?” I pointed at the cap.

“Keep it! Wind knocks ‘em off all the time. Hey, you tell the C-man I said ‘peace’ if you see him,” he said as he handed me back my ID and walked back to his car, “He saved my marriage with a pair of old socks and a Ponderosa pine you know—me and Hazel.”

Back at my apartment I pondered what Confusion Man intended I do with these objects to get rid of the bear I knew what the policeman’s cap was for, but the skin, the absinth… a box of ping pong balls?

Meanwhile down by the spa I could hear the bear snorting and growling in an effort to wake Alison.

“Whaaat,” she finally moaned. She cracked on eye half open.

The bear growled and flexed his empty claws on an imaginary spot where a beer, he felt, should be.

I knew my first move. I grabbed a beer from the fridge opened it and took a swig. I emptied the absinth into the beer. I raced downstairs to intercept Alison on her way to her own fridge or the store.

“Hey Alison,” I said cheerily.

She responded with a dumbfounded ‘who me?’ expression.

“Hey there… um, dude-who-drives-the-beat-up-little-white-car.”

“Wanna beer?” I said holding out the mickey’d Corona.

“It’s like… nine-O-clock on Sunday morning.”

It was around 3:00 PM on a Saturday.

“You sure you couldn’t use it? You could always give it to someone else…”

“Well… like… ack-shu-ally, m’friend, like, rully, rully needs a beer right now. So… um, I guess,  um, yea!”

“Here ya go.”

I handed her the beer with a smile so big she should have been suspicious.

She wasn’t.

“Thanks,” she tooted and headed back to the spa.

From my balcony I watched the bear for signs that the absinth was having some sort of effect. Eventually the bear started extending his claws in front of his face over and over. He made a noise that sounded like if he could speak he would be saying: “Dude, look at my claws, they’re, like, awesome man!”

I could only make my best guess as to what the ping pong balls and the bear skin was for.

I rolled the ping pong balls out on the floor. I leapt into the air and stomped right on top of one of the balls. The ‘popping’ sound it made was a good deal louder that I figured, almost like a gunshot. I tried it again.

BANG!

I peered over the edge. The bear was looking up with a concerned look on his snout. I smashed and smashed until all of the ball had been crushed except for one that had rolled under the desk.

I then threw the bear skin over the railing so that it hung half on one side half on another. The head was on the outside staring straight down at the bear. The bear was staring back, its fang studded jaw agape. I appeared on the rail, leaning my elbows on the ursine carcass.

“I take it all back,” I said—heavy on the syrup. You can stay, shed and piss in our spa all you want!”

The bear grumbled and lumbered out of the spa. The water level plummeted to half it’s normal sounding. Water rained from the creature like a two sided furry waterfall. He was about to shake like a dog which would have painted the entire side of the building with bear stink and rained the same upon the poor Russian preschoolers who were busy playing with their new bottles.

The bear seemed to feel my glare and paused looked up at me before did the hokey poeky dryer dance.

“I… don’t… think… so…” I sang.

He snorted and went on his way dripping a trail a shame.

I went back to ‘The Vatican’ to thank Confusion Man. He was behind the bar pouring drinks (his other gig).

“Do I thank you or curse you?” I yelled over the music.

“Confusion is my job, not yours. Besides, I’m off duty.”

Just then I hear the crowd in the club going crazy. Some familiar-looking dude stood on the railing of the overhead balcony. After letting out a war cry he did swan dive into the pulsing throngs below.

“Hey, isn’t that Neil Patrick Harris?” Confusion said.

“I dunno, maybe.”

I raised my camera over the crowd and snapped a picture.

Later, at home I wondered if it was really Neil Patrick Harris? I looked up the picture on my phone. The image was blurring and inconclusive.

Yes you have to watch out what you wish for, but now that I think about it, that day had been a pretty good day as well.