Confessions From The Recession

Despite the early evening November hour, the sky was pitch black. Unlike the summer months when daylight made walking home from work a pleasurable soothing experience filled with life this darken experience seemed to acknowledge the fact the date was between death and frost biting coldness. Peering up the cement staircase decorated in artistic graffiti Chapman found a garbage pail to throw away a crumpled up pink slip given to him by bosses before leaving the CBC television stage.

For the longest time he performed professional duties to make the Colorful Broadcasting Corporation a ratings winner but according to his superior's budget cuts, “due to a high-risk gamble made on the other coast changes needed to be made. As a press release stated in a morning meeting the next twenty “International Friendly Interaction Games” would be shown exclusively on the network that had a must-see attitude. When hearing how they were going to make a profit Chapman’s moralistic views were presented in an emotional tirade where his freedom ticket was written by the human resource department.

“Who is going to pay to watch these events they are not familiar with?” His mind wondered climbing the incline that led to the autumn night. Unlike most commutes when everything was quiet until a horn from a car shattered the silence the present two-block walk draped with helium machines seemed festive and exciting knowing when the sun rose appeared again all the balloons would be standing at attention in the air.

“Who is going to watch a parade for two hours?” Chapman grumbled sticking his hands into empty jacket pockets. Suddenly the inflation spectacle commenced marveling the crowd especially when the city’s police dog mascot came to life under the spotlights provided by the truck advertising Chapman’s former employer. Since CBC had the rights to the holiday tradition the local news crew boasted interviewing a famed gymnast.

Making his way down the sidewalk taking a closer look confirming it was Romanian gold medalist Elizabeth Bathory the girl next door who went from the athletic mat to being a star on the adolescent geared soap opera drama “The Sangre Countess.” Due to worldwide reporting after a spectacular performance during the last International Friendly Interaction Games Elizabeth’s Father a skilled surgeon was lured away from the land of Dracula due to his talented scalpel moves.

“I guess she has it all financially taken care of,” Chapman whispered, and no one saw or heard a thing as he made his way into a local bar that had a grill fulfilling legal reasons that the establishment’s main purpose was not to get drunk.

It did not even take a half hour and Chapman finishing a pint for the Romanian family to accept the reserved table enjoying a party of five by the window featuring plastic rings on each chair.

“My little Princess,” Elizabeth’s Father smiled, “you are on the city’s crime dog mascot float in the American Gratitude Parade.”

“Check this out daddy,” the competitor who coincidently had cover model looks pulled a jar from her gym bag, “they gave me snacks to feed the police dog while we ride down the street.”

“This is just as great as when they presented the coat of arms exhibition award before we left Romania,”

“Yes,” Elizabeth agreed, “that choreographed piece was truly the ‘Classic of All Times.’”

Chapman observed this dialogue exchange placing the empty glass cauldron down before watching the young lady head into the restroom. Off in the distance the comment was made by the mother, ‘do not be too late food will be here soon,”

Like it was choreographed a loving couple sitting next to Chapman paid their bill before disappearing from the stools. Seeing that the pair enjoyed the Texas sized steak ordered, especially when the huge knife provided for a promotion was lying there giving Chapman evil thoughts. Making the commitment in his mind he grabbed a napkin and being very calm he wiped down the bigger than life silver area returning it back to its original mirror status. Throwing a couple of dollars down for his beverages he proceeded to request directions to the lavatory. Finding the two doors he ignored the one marked Gentleman and decided to choose the Ladies.

No one was inside except for Elizabeth who was hidden in the stall applying lip stick and mascara. Feeling the knife’s sharpness Chapman waited patiently for Elizabeth to emerge showing her newsworthy credible features.

“You have the wrong bathroom,” Elizabeth noticed the stranger just standing there like a production manager watching their stage show. Allowing the comment to pass Chapman took a few steps closer as she added more scarlet on her lips, “this is the ladies powder room.”

Pulling the culinary weapon out Chapman made a simple arm motion and soon the Global Performing success story throat was cut and silenced for eternity. Watching the mature child fall to the ground reminded Chapman about the time when that odds on hit ratings time slot dropped dramatically without good reason.

Not even concerned whether another person would walk in Chapman cleaned the knife and placed it back into a hidden place until returning into the dining area. It was then he saw a staff member who was a swing dancer in the theatrical district carrying dirty plates earning rent money.

Finding a plate, he quietly placed the eating murderous device and apologized to the college student for taking it in the first place.

Only a few minutes elapsed, and Chapman was outside when the clown like meteorologist saw him, “Happy Inflation Eve! Did you hear Chapman?” the jolly fellow inquired, “CBC-TV is the exclusive home to the ‘International Friendly Interaction Games’!”

“Yeah, I did I already purchased the bloody red channel to watch Elizabeth Bathory in gymnastics.” Chapman answered before pausing and disappearing into the streetlights.