escaping from adolescence

Roy Fleming was sitting on the couch in his living room in his pajamas, watching “The Partridge Family” marathon on TV Land, eating Froot Loops out of the box, and drinking chocolate milk through a silly straw when his phone rang.

“Hello,” he mumbled.

 

“Mr. Fleming?”

 

“Yaa…”

 

“Roy Fleming?”

 

“Uh, huh?”

 

“Mr. Fleming, this is Daniel with Bank & Trust Card Services?”

 

“Uh-heh?”

 

“Sir, your account is currently four months past due…?”

“Right…”

 

“I wanted to know if you could get your checkbook. We can make a payment right over the phone for you, sir…”

 

“That’s not possible.”

 

“It’s not possible?  Why is it not possible, Mr. Fleming?”

 

“Not working…”

 

“How long have you been out of work, sir?”

 

“5 months…”

 

“Really?”

 

“Uh-huh.”

 

“Haven’t been able to find a job in 5 months?”

 

“That’s correct…”

 

“How are you living, then, sir…?”

 

Roy paused. “That’s the trick,” he said.

 

Daniel paused.  “Well, Mr. Fleming, you understand the severity of the

situation, don’t you?”

 

“I believe so…”

 

“Your account will be charged off in June if you don’t clear this matter up, sir…”

 

No reply.

 

“Mr. Fleming?”

 

No reply.

 

“Mr. Fleming?  Are you there, sir?”

 

Roy sighed.

 

“Mr. Fleming, why don’t you get your checkbook? I can take a check right over the phone, sir-“

 

“You said that already.”

 

“…Well, sir, it’ll cause you much less aggravation if I could just take a payment from you tonight…”

 

No reply.

 

“Mr. Fleming?”

 

No reply.

“Mr. Fleming, I need a response from you, sir. We have left you numerous messages, and you have failed to contact us. Now I can save you a lot of grief, sir, if you’d only-“

 

“Play ball?” Roy said.

 

“Sir?”

 

“I’m depressed…”

 

“Well, I can certainly understand your…”

 

“I gotta gun…”

 

Pause.

 

“Did you hear me?”

 

“Yes, sir, I heard you. You said you have a gun.”

 

“Yeah, and I’m gonna blow my brains out if you don’t get off this phone…”

 

“Well, there’s no need to do that, Mr. Fleming. Is your checkbook nearby, sir…?”

 

“YOU A*****E!  DID YOU HEAR WHAT I SAID?”

 

“Sir, there’s no need to curse at me or raise your voice. This is a grave matter. It has escalated to the next level. Now, do you want to sit there yelling at me like a maniac, or do you want to solve this situation like a mature adult? The choice is up to you… Do you need me to call the police and let them know you’ve threatened to commit suicide? Because I’ll gladly do that for you, Mr. Fleming…”

 

No reply.

 

“Mr. Fleming?”

 

No reply.

 

“Mr. Fleming, I’ll stay on the line as long as it takes, sir. I’m here all night…”

 

Pause.

 

“Whaddaya gonna do, sue me?”

 

“Is that what you want?”

 

“I don’t have deep pockets…”

 

“Well, I’m sure our legal department will compensate for that, sir…”

 

Pause.

 

“What do you say, Mr. Fleming? I know you want these phone calls to stop. I know how annoying they can be…”

 

“Nobody will hire me…”

 

“What about McDonald’s? I’m sure you could get a job at McDonald’s.”

 

No reply.

 

“Mr. Fleming, you’re only making it harder on yourself…”

 

“SHHHUDDUPPPP!”

 

“Mr. Fleming?”

 

“ARGHHHFRUCKKKAVOHH!”

 

“Sir…”

 

“FUUUCK OFFFF!”

 

 “Sir, that’s very poetic…”

 

“ASSSHOLLLE!”

 

“Mr. Fleming, why don’t we hang up now? I can call the authorities and have them check you out. Make sure you’re alright, sir…”

 

Roy slammed the phone down and unplugged it from the wall.

 

20 minutes later, there was a knock at the door.

 

Roy looked through the peephole and saw two uniformed police officers standing outside. He opened the door.

 

“Can I help you?” Roy said.

 

“Sir, is your name Roy Fleming?” the older cop said.

 

“Yes, it is…”

 

“Is everything alright…?”

 

“Fine…”

 

“Do you know why we’re here, sir?”

 

“No, sir, not exactly…”

 

The younger cop peered into Roy’s apartment.

 

“We got a call from your credit card company. Said you had threatened to commit suicide or something. Do you recall saying anything like that, sir?”

 

“No, sir. I don’t recall saying that…”

 

“Probably threatened to shoot the guy from the credit card company,” the young cop joked and smiled.

 

“Do you have any weapons?”

 

“No, I don’t believe in them…”

 

The older cop turned on his flashlight and shined the light into Roy’s place.

 

“Mind if we take a quick look around, sir, just to see if everything’s in order…?”

 

“Not at all…”

 

The cops stepped in and were both now shining their cop flashlights.

 

“Do you have any ID on you, Mr. Fleming?”

 

Roy grabbed his wallet from an end table and handed his driver’s license to the younger cop, who copied the license number in a small notebook.

 

Meanwhile, the older cop conducted a cursory search of the apartment. He illuminated Roy’s bookcase.

 

“Lenny Bruce, heh?” he said.

 

“Uh huh,”

 

“That’s alright…”

 

“You like Lenny Bruce?” Roy said.

 

“I’m a whole ‘nuther person outside of this uniform,” and he chuckled.

 

The younger cop returned the license to Roy.

 

Satisfied that things were in order, the cops headed for the door.

 

“Okay, Mr. Fleming,” the older cop said. “As I said, we just wanted to ensure you were alright with everything. ‘Preciate you cooperating with us…”

 

“No problem…”

 

“Sure you’re gonna be okay now?”

 

“Yes, sir, I’ll be fine…”

 

The older cop tipped his hat, and he and his partner walked away.

Roy closed the door and went to bed.