Disgusted and Furious

May 12, 2013

Hello again, everyone. You may have been wondering to yourselves, where has Jake been? What’s happened to Uncle Steve’s? Has the world come to an end? Well, to tell you the truth, for some time now it really has seemed to me that the world truly has come to an end, at least the world that I once knew.

The thing is, I’ve been so angry and upset for so long that I just couldn’t bring myself to write another update for Uncle Steve’s. I was concerned that if I wrote while I was in such an unsettled state of mind that I would post something to the web that I would deeply regret later on, and as you know, once your words are out there, a thousand wild horses can’t drag them back, even if you take them off the Internet. But I suppose that now, after a good nine or so months, I’ve calmed down enough to resume my old duties. Please forgive the extended lapse.

Let me get right to the point. You’ll recall that back in June of last year, Catherine’s whereabouts were unknown. You may also remember that Pete Wilkinson of Nazi Sex Zombies (NSZ) had taken a sudden and unexplained break from his band. At the time, it didn’t occur to any of us to connect those two events, but later on that month, Catherine’s old roommate Andrea contacted Catherine’s long-suffering husband Norm to tell him that she had seen Catherine and Pete French kissing in the personal hygiene section at the Metterton Wal-Mart.

Well, as you might indeed imagine, Norm was completely devastated, and I was beside myself with incredulity and contempt. I just couldn’t understand it. How the devil could two people who have benefitted so enormously from Norm’s selflessness and generosity betray him in such a vile and shameless way? I mean, if it weren’t for all the free meals that Norm gave Pete at Uncle Steve’s, he probably would have died of starvation or something, and Norm let him sleep on his couch dozens of times. And as for Catherine, lest we forget, she was on an expressway to nowhere before she met Norm. Also, her cats would have been gassed at the animal shelter months ago had it not been for Norm. So, this is how they repay him? What snakes. What worms. What deceitful, ungrateful… Meh, you fill in the rest.

When Norm texted Catherine and confronted her about her unfaithfulness, she responded simply by saying that she wasn’t done with Pete yet, and she’d be home soon. What gall! What effrontery! Norm totally broke down and was reduced to a quivering pile of tears. I visited him at his home every night for a few days to offer moral support. I’ve never seen a nicer person be put through so much needless pain. The more I saw him suffer, the angrier and angrier I felt about Catherine and Pete.

Around this time, I was riding my moped to work at Adlai Mortensen College when I went by the Budget Motel and saw a motorcycle that looked familiar. I pulled into the hotel parking lot to check it out. Sure enough, it was Pete’s ride, with the NSZ sticker right on the gas tank where it’s always been. Since the lot was empty except for the motorbike, I tapped on the hotel room door right in front of it, and Pete answered, butt naked and smelling like hard liquor and clove cigarettes. Behind him, Catherine was asleep and splayed out on the hotel bed, also completely unclothed.

When Pete answered the door, he mumbled that he and Catherine were having a private moment, so maybe I could come back some other time. I ignored him, asked him to step back from the door, went over to the sink where they had their ice bucket, which was filled with a bunch of partially melted ice, and dumped the whole thing on top of Catherine, who woke up immediately, cursing. Pete told me I couldn’t do that and I told him, sorry, too late, I already did. I’d never stood up to Pete before on anything, so he was pretty shocked. I kind of surprised myself, I suppose.

I told Catherine to get dressed and get on the moped with me because I was taking her back to Norm’s place. She said, what if I don’t, and I said I’d call the police. Pete interjected, asking me what I would accuse Catherine of doing. Distribution and sale of controlled substances, I replied off-the-cuff in a cool tone, mostly just to have something to say. Pete hung his head, looked at Catherine, and said, well, I’ll be missing you, then went into the bathroom and ralphed into the toilet. So, I guess my casual remark was on the money after all. No telling what kind of role Catherine played in all of that.

I called Norm to let him know that Catherine was heading his way, and he insisted that I drive around with her for at least an hour before showing up. That seemed like an odd request to me, but I went along with it, while Catherine whined and complained that she couldn’t stand to be on my moped another minute.

When we finally arrived at Norm’s double wide, we discovered that he had prepared his world-famous couscous with pine nuts and secret seasonings, freshly made hummus, a huge plate of golden brown falafel balls, roasted lamb, lightly toasted pita bread, and a savory cucumber salad with tomatoes and feta cheese. Catherine cried out, oh God I am so hungry, and this is my favorite, then started wolfing it all down while Norm grinned from ear to ear. After she had licked the plates clean, she went to make a fuss over her “babies,” that is, her cats, which had grown even plumper under Norm’s indulgent care. Over Norm’s objections, I excused myself, leaving the two reunited love birds alone, and rode home with a splitting headache.

I’ve got a few things to get off my chest about Pete once and for all, and I figure that this is the time and place to do it.

Pete, you are a dishonest, self-centered, selfish guy. You only care about one person, and that is yourself. And quite frankly, the ironic thing is that you don’t seem to care about yourself all that much, because you treat your body like one of Pete Townshend’s disposable guitars. And no, I haven’t forgotten how you “borrowed” my car for several months and then let it roll off the side of a cliff. What a fool I was to believe in your cock and bull excuses. You were never a real friend to me and you’ve never been a real friend to anyone else. I’m pleased as punch that I haven’t seen you since, and if you are reading this, I ask that you don’t come back. We’re all better off without you around. Just be glad that I’ve calmed down after all these months, because what I would have written back in July of last year would’ve been a whole lot harder for you to handle than what I’ve written here.

As for you Catherine, there’s really nothing for me to say, since actions speak louder than words. You should be grateful that Norm has given you a second chance. Maybe you’ll turn over a new leaf and reform yourself or something. But I seriously doubt it.

In the midst of all those terrible crises early last summer, I was informed by the administration at the college that due to cutbacks to the institution’s budget, they could not guarantee me my usual teaching load for the coming academic year to begin in August. A few weeks later, this was clarified to mean that I would be let go until further notice. Well, you know how it is when you’re adjunct faculty, you’re the last hired and the first to be laid off.

I seriously considered moving in with my Aunt Gertrude in Pittsburgh. However, Tripping Travis somehow found out about my predicament, and told me that they needed a new day shift manager at Little Caesar’s Pizza in Duckworth, where he works. Figuring that would work out better for me than my Aunt Gertrude, I applied and was hired, and am still working there now, at least until the college calls me back. We’ll see what develops. Funny thing, the pay is about the same.

Well, after a short while, it became apparent that Catherine was pregnant. So, understandably, Norm was flipping out, wondering if the child was his. After meeting with the ob-gyn doctor, we learned that conception probably took place right around the time that Catherine went missing. So, Norm is within range of possibility as the father, but so is Pete.

The baby, a healthy boy weighing in at 8 lbs. 12 oz. was born early in March and is named Ahmad after Norm’s uncle from Chicago, the one who took him in after he arrived from Lebanon back in the 1970s. I’m pretty sure that the baby is Norm’s, since he’s got his father’s dark brown eyes and little tufts of wavy hair that looks like the little bit of hair that Norm has left, and both Catherine and Pete have green eyes and line-straight hair. I’m not sure what color hair Catherine and Pete actually have since they both dye it on a regular basis. Anyway, I’ve insisted that Norm get the DNA test done just to be sure, so he says he will do this just to humor me because he is totally convinced that Ahmad is his son. All well and good, but let’s get the DNA results anyway, if you know what I’m saying.

Alright, folks, I’ve got to be totally honest here and admit that Norm and I have intentionally left Uncle Steve’s closed for the last several months. As you may know, we haven’t had a show since last June. One reason for this was my uncertain job situation. I wasn’t sure that the whole Little Caesar’s thing would work out for me, but now I am feeling more confident about that.

Also, Norm and his business partner Terry hit a rough spot financially for a while, and Terry even thought of shutting down the business, but changed his mind when a new nursing home opened up down the road, and in November hired Terry to install their gas heating system. Since then things have improved significantly for them.

So, in summary, both Norm and I have a bit of money on the side for running the club, but not all that much, which is why when you are at the club, anything you can contribute/pay would be greatly appreciated.

Of course, another reason that we’ve kept the place closed is because of recent run-ins with Bert, whose alcoholism now appears to be approaching delirium tremens levels on a constant basis, as well as our completely natural and understandable desire to avoid Pete. We figured that if the club wasn’t open long enough, he might just move on to somewhere else.

On a side note, I’m quite sad to say that Stoughton Finney of Admiral Porkliver turned out to be more physically ill than we had suspected, and in July of last year, had to be taken to the hospital in Metterton, and from there was transferred to a better hospital in Wheeling, West Virginia, where he could get more expert treatment for his specific condition, the details of which have never been made clear to me. When that happened, the members of Admiral Porkliver left as well, presumably to follow their beloved master, but I can’t say for sure since I have had no contact with any of them since. As always, their inoperable tour bus is parked in front of the club. Rumor has it that Pete has taken up residence in the bus, but I haven’t been able to either confirm or disprove the allegation.

One piece of bright news amidst all the gloom is that Uncle Steve is scheduled to have a parole hearing this coming May. If he can’t win his appeal, maybe he can at least get out on parole. Uncle Steve, if we ever needed you around again, now is the time. I’m not so sure that Norm and I are up to running your club any more, although we have talked seriously about opening up again for a night or two, maybe in late April after things warm up a bit.

Norm and I did go by the club again a week ago and everything looks more or less okay. We did a bit of cleaning up here and there, which didn’t take too long. Fingers crossed, the live music will be back in a few weeks. I’ll keep everyone posted through our Facebook page. Stay tuned!

-- Jake Silverman

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