Coffeehouse Chronicles: Anthill Unplugged

That's Ryan wishing he was retired like Your Hero

Hey Chroniclers! Have you recovered from Thanksgiving? Or are you still in a gravy-induced coma, clutching a turkey leg like it’s a life preserver?

Oh my, apparently I struck a nerve last week when I shared the nicknames of my family and friends-that-are-family. A certain individual took umbrage at his nickname and threatened Your Hero with bodily injury. I suppose his resorting to physical violence shouldn’t surprise anyone—because, as I said, he and I go back to Day One of the academy, where on that very day, he threatened me with dismemberment. Charming, right? I guess the small podunk city that he formerly worked at didn’t read the fine print on his psych report. Spoiler alert: it was in bold.

Some of you may remember that when I met then-Cadet Anthill, he was in my senior class. As an upperclassman, he was given a tiny bit of authority. Authority, which to him meant yelling, growling, and cajoling the newbies. He was a very mean man. He still is. If sarcasm burned calories, he’d be a size zero.

Fast-forward four years: the artist formerly known as Cadet Anthill was now Trainee Anthill at the best patrol station within the Department.

No, Dot, not that one! The one with the Jolly Roger is a close second, but we’ll always respect you guys as our little sibs.

Hey, Cmdr McCroc! It’s okay, sir. You redeemed your substandard patrol training by coming to Number One as a Sergeant, Lieutenant, and Captain. Thank you for your service—and for not throwing anyone’s briefcase into a swamp.

Anyway, on this particular day, one of my classmates was the Watch Deputy/Dispatcher. Turns out, Former Cadet Anthill had also victimized my classmate. As I heard it, on our first day, Cadet Anthill threw my classmate’s brand-new briefcase—with all his papers—into the murky, slimy green puddle of a defunct swimming pool. My feeling is that Trainee Anthill didn’t remember the pool incident, but the WD had vivid recall. Let’s just say it was a very quiet day for all the other trainees ten-8 that day, but Trainee Anthill arrived at the station at the end of the night looking like he’d been struck by a train and buried under a mountain of paper.

Yup. What is it they say about payback? Ouch. Karma showed up wearing steel-toed boots.

Over the years, Anthill and I could never get away from one another. For decades, we chased each other around the County, working side by side many times over 30

years.

And then I retired. Anthill saw that I was having a ball in retirement, so he did the same. After more than 30 years, Anthill retired too.

For all of about twelve minutes.

That's Ryan wishing he was retired like Your Hero, again

I thought he was gonna rest up, enjoy traveling around the world with his new love—a beautiful woman (aside from the guy he sees in the mirror a thousand times a day). Oh, did I forget to mention that he bought a place in the Coachella Valley? You know why? Because he LOVES Mid-century Modern Architecture. Why is that, you ask? Because he can get away with having mirrored walls, and everyone thinks it’s because of style. I know it’s because he can’t help admiring himself in the mirror seven thousand times a day.

That and the fact that he gets to explore all the high-end food eateries. Oh yes, along with being a gym rat and a little self-absorbed, he’s a foodie. If he doesn’t spend $150 on a plate of food that has a dime-sized soy wafer with a sprig of parsley and some drizzle of sauce, he’s just not happy. He calls it “art.” I call it “a snack.”

Then he goes back to work on Monday, where he is now Captain Anthill, to brag about working in the Hot Years and to show the youngsters selfies of himself with his food, himself in the gym, and himself in designer shirts that he bought over the weekend at some boutique that requires a Black Card just to make an appointment.

Hey! Do yourself a favor. Ask the Captain about the time he was in bike training with the kids he works with—yes, kids, because we all have grandkids their age—and he fell off. Pure comedy! I think I’m gonna check with his Chief, a good friend, and suggest training wheels. Or maybe bubble wrap.

You know what to do! Drink ’em if you got ’em!

#coffeehousechronicles