Sunday, February 7, 2016

Game Day

  Sunday. A Super Bowl. In the Valley, the atmosphere was drenched with the smell of grilled meat. Screams of joy and agony were heard throughout the neighborhoods. People enjoying the big game. The Van Man got out of rehearsal with a chip on his shoulder. He had no use for games.
  Van Man was frustrated. The show was not fun. And he was not sure why. Perhaps, it was just still early in the process. He was still on book and the character was not defined, yet. Or maybe it was something deeper. Working the nine to five job with the Teamsters had begun to take its toll and he did not want to be working the bullshit jobs anymore. But he swallowed his ego and laughed at himself. That's an actor for you, he thought. Always thinkin' they're too good for shit. 
  The weather was nice. Typical February in the Valley. The rains had come and gone, but the real showers were still on their way. The El Nino storms were due to hit LA within weeks and Van Man welcomed them. He had patched up the holes in the van and he was ready for the sons of bitches. 
  He thought about a milkshake. And then it hit him like a linebacker swarming the pocket. That was all life was about. Just game days and preparing for rain and deciding on chocolate or vanilla. One could argue there was so much more to it, but was there? It was about catching temporary happinesses, making choices and staying dry. The Van Man frowned and decided against the shake.

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