P.I. Log #4 (Pt 1/2)

I lit a joint up out of my pack and started to head home. I had to pass by my job again after dropping Ali off at the Motor Inn. 11:11 was the time and 11:11 (my job) was in the rear view, shrinking until it became a bitter spec that would be relived once again tomorrow.  I looked at my phone and saw I had fourteen missed calls from Sandra, my voicemail was even worse as it said it was at full capacity. I remembered how Sandra would leave me lengthy voicemails if I didn’t answer the phone, after awhile it just became white noise and it hasn’t changed since.

After a lengthy ten hour shift at that shit hole I had to tail Tony. Let me tell you a little about Tony. Tony is Mr. Deans nephew, when we were teenagers, Tony and I worked side by side at 11:11. He was even lazier than Ali, he would do this thing where if a manager was watching him he would squint his eyes slightly and act like he was doing something important but he never was, without doing any work whatsoever they promoted him to assistant manager. He might as well have been the manager because the actual manager at the time Greg was so afraid of the fact that he was Mr. Dean’s nephew that he essentially got away with anything he liked. For example we have a charge sheet for if we want anything at the store while we work and don’t want to pay for it we can have it deducted from our paycheck if we write it down on the sheet, well this asshole would constantly charge Parliament cigarettes to his account the only catch was he would write one pack and take three, I voiced this to Greg and he said he’d look into it, he never looked into it, Tony gets what he wants, Tony was born with a silver spoon in his mouth and a silver plug in his ass so he could never escrete all the bullshit he was fed as a kid about being better than everyone else, and did I mention I hate this guy?

Tony’s dad (Mr. Deans brother)  is Salvatore Deanzio, he is the head owner of the Crooked Falcon Casino. The CFC (Let’s call it that now) is a casino that was built at the edge of our town. There was a poll opened whether or not the casino bill should be passed in 1988, no one in our quiet little town wanted the casino to be built for obvious reasons (it would bring in mob, scum bags, terrible tourists, etc.)  but Salavatore with his connections rigged the polls and now for almost thirty years we’ve had this shit ass casino in our town. Since it’s grand opening, crime rates have quadrupled, prostitutes are now a thing and drugs are everywhere in this town. The only positive thing the CFC has done is open jobs for people who want to work twelve hour shifts as a blackjack/poker dealer or like me who worked at an ice cream shop across from the casinos night club

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As I drove over the Brighter Side Bridge there was construction going on, they knocked down the old guard rails and were putting new reinforced ones up but for now there was traffic cones in place of the old guard rails. I had an impulsive feeling that I should cut the wheel right and drive straight into the river, they would think it was an accident and I would finally be free of the shooting pain in the back of my head, but like the pussy I am I kept driving and paid that 75 cent toll at the end of it. I threw two quarters, two dimes, and a nickel into the bucket. The toll machine did not register the last nickel I threw in and I opened up my door and searched on the ground for any money I could find, there was quite a bit of change on the ground but all of it was stuck from all the cars driving over it, I tried with all my might to pull a nickel out of the ground to no avail, three cars were now behind me honking and I just got back in my car and took off, I saw the camera flash its light signifying that I would have a fine at the end of the month but I really didn’t care at this point.

I finished the joint and was feeling nice and wavy as my phone started to ring 11:11 (the shithole) was on the caller id. I was hesitant but picked up the phone anyway, it was Lisa.

“Jon, I was just about to put out breakfast taquitos and I opened up a new box and you’ll never guess what I found”

“Hold on let me guess, you found shit where the taquitos should be”

“How’d you know?”

“Just a lucky guess”

“The person who pooped this one out must’ve lost so bad at scratchoffs they must’ve ate their losing tickets because I found part of a ticket in the dookie, I checked to see if it was a loser and it was a $500 winner, I don’t know what I should do.”

“That’s all yours, if you want the dirty money, take the rest of the shit and put it in a bag and leave it next to Samar’s door, he’ll want to inspect it in the morning.”

“Okay Jonny”

I hung up and was about to pull up to my house. Once again I glanced at the sign “Heaven or Hell, where will you go?” I really didn’t give a damn at this point as long as it had free parking. I got out of my car and started to walk up my steps, something inside of me like a gut feeling said that something was about to happen. I open my front door and for once it’s completely dark inside, just the way I like it. I walk to my bedroom/office and I see a silhouette sitting in my office chair, behind is my window with a red light up sign “Jonny Heartz Private Eye.” The Silhouetted vessel slowly rotated the chair to face me it was Sandra, smoking one of the joints I left on my desk, I thought to myself

“I’m in for a long night.”

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