It was a place where she held onto my hand so tightly that she cut off the circulation and the sky was dark, but orange.

It was a place where the hills began to crack and the earth caved in on itself.

It was a place where downhill skiing, hockey, golf, rollerblading, and lacrosse all became one sport.

It was a place where I walked across the desert for hours to a lonely mountain range, but did not sweat a drop.

It was a place where the train sped across the open frozen wasteland and crashed along the dark mountainside, and I was thrown from the wreckage onto my face.

It was a place where you once called home because of me.

It was a place where the ancient pyramid among the infinite holy men was only a brothel.

It was a place where biological warfare reshaped the face of my very neighborhood.

It was a place where I shook hands with myself.

It was a place where my worst enemies became my best friends and my best friends became my worst enemies.

It was a place where I returned each day.

It was a place where no one else may go.

Once I returned to CT from NJ I became even more sick.  Apparently NJ is a very dirty place? Gives you disease? Who knew? On the drive home I called my boss and informed him that I would not be able to make it to work.  He didn’t really need to ask why, he could hear it in my nearly non-existent voice that I was in no shape to be entertaining the general public much less handling their food. Nothing was helping me feel better, finally on the second day I went to the walk-in clinic to find out what the eff was wrong.  “A very bad infection in your throat,” said the doctor. Of course, the only way he determines this is by shining he his flashlight that looks into my throat down into my throat and says “hmm” a few times.  No swabs, or blood samples or anything like that. Well he is the professional, am I right?  Who am I to second guess this fellow.  So he hands me a piece of paper with some scribble on it and what looks to be a signature at the bottom.  This guy could be giving me poison for all I know.  “Take this as directed and you’ll feel better in a few days.” A few days?  Nothing like slow and steady.

The short heavy set chap at the pharmacy was obviously having a great day too.  You know that customer service person who is holding back every thread of hate for the general public.  Thinking that the work he is doing is so below him. That was this guy.  He must of felt that the things that I was asking him to do (Fill prescription and update insurance information) was just too much.  I love it too when the computer malfunctions for a short while and these people actually roll their eyes at it like the computer made a conscious decision to fuck the guy over for those 30 seconds.  My final chuckle comes when everything is finally done, he acts like he wasn’t acting completely irrational this whole time, smiles and says, “have a nice day.”

I’m not one for medicine unless I absolutely have to take it.  I have epilepsy, I NEED to take that medication, but beyond that I almost refuse to take anything else.  I will take the occasional Tylenol if it feels like someone cracked me over the head with a sledge hammer, but that’s it.  Shortly after taking my first does of antibiotics and “cough syrup” I was loopy as hell and immediately fell asleep.

The rest of the days were spent doing laundry, playing Modern Warfare 2 and one day of work.  3 of the most unproductive days of my life and it sucks.  New week, new state of health, new material to write.  I ready….are you?

side note: my dreams continue to rule.  I need to will write about one in the coming days.

Well, I woke up to yet another epic dream of myself immersed in a world not too far removed from Pandora from Avatar.  Now, I understand that I just saw the movie the other day, BUT the reason for such vivid dreams in as many consecutive days is really starting to boggle my mind.  *Screech Screech* My alarm clock goes off just as I’m about to gather some very important information from a key player in this dream world.  Does my body do it on purpose because it knows its coming out of REM? It can’t be because for the most part I wake up roughly 30 seconds before my alarm goes off.  What the eff?  Anyways, before my head explodes, I need to stop thinking about all this.

The day started like any other, it soon became invaded by even more normalcy until about 6 pm.  Finally the customers poured and the work day have finally started.  Oh! I almost forgot, one of the cooks made my favorite gravy sauce to put on top of my burger.  It’s impossible to describe the awesomeness that comes when you pour it across the hot onion strings and grilled chicken breast.  The hamburger bun becomes soaked in flavors  that you’d thought only the messiah himself could bring forth.  The downside….it’s messy as hell, but delicious nonetheless.

I tend to crack myself up a lot as well.  I have yet to find out if that is good or not.  One of my employees said, “No, no it’s good…It’s not great, but its good.”  I laughed once again along with her and returned to my “regularly scheduled program.”  At about 8:30 I reached the point in the day where I EXTREMELY overtired.  Everything was funny and I just couldn’t be contained.  I was happy to deal with unruly customers and make sure that their needs were satisfied. I reconnected with an old college buddy before I left as well.  There is nothing better, we caught up quick, shared a few laughs and went on our ways.

Finally, I saluted everyone as I made my way out onto the frozen tundra of the WH streets and drove to buy myself dinner and a beer.  One Brooklyn Lager and Pretzel Burger and order Parmesan fries later I was in bed with a food coma once again disappointing the woman I love by falling asleep over video chat.  Wups!

side note: is it really okay to laugh at yourself? i need to know before i find myself in the loony bin.

I just these days to catch up on the endless amounts of paper work or emails I need to respond to.  If I had neglected to do any work over the weekend, yesterday is the day that it got done.  It as fairly uneventful until the evening when She finally came along.  I haven’t seen Her in a few weeks and we were finally going to have a few days to spend together. She arrived at 7 pm and from then until about 1030pm we played the waiting game for a couple employees.  Oh, let’s not forget the spectacular pasta dinner She cooked with a bolognese sauce.

Avatar 3D was the final stage in my night.  I had seen it once before, but my two employees had yet to see it.  Needless to say, it was a crowd pleaser.  The girls and I loved it, while She posed as a “fly-trap” for a short while. It gave me a good chuckle.  I just nudged Her a bit and brought her back to life.  2 Hours and 45 mins later I found myself in bed “mentally preparing” myself for my 930 meeting the next morning with the big boss man.

side note: thankfully it doesn’t take me more than 30 seconds to fall asleep on any given surface.  1st night without vivid dream that I could remember when I woke up…

The real world shifts back into gear as people return to week after two weeks of holidays and the children return to school.  My day consisted mostly of catching up on administrative work that I still had lying around.  To me there is nothing more refreshing than, starting a tasks doing all the steps in between and being able to scratch it off a list.  Progress is a beautiful thing, especially in the restaurant business.

I spent some time thinking about the term “flava,” pronounced “flay-vuh,” and how you use it to describe something.  One of my employees used it to describe “this girl.”  I still have no idea what it means or how it is used.  Perhaps someone an help me.

My day became progressively better as it approached 6pm.  The night manager entered, I gave him the rundown of the day, high-fived him, and exited stage right.  My travels then took me to a small town in the northwest hills of Connecticut where I finished my night on the slopes of mountain.  It had been over a year since the last time I had graced the face of any mountain with my snowboard.  Of course, the night wouldn’t be all perfect.  As I ascended the mountain for the first time I looked down at my board and noticed it looked a little strange. Well, that was because I right regular and it was set up for a goofy rider.  My brother is goofy.  Needless to say, that is the last time I lend him my snowboard.

Any who, the two and a half hours I spent carving through the snow, at near light speeds I might add, was more than what I needed.  The only thing left…sustenance.  For those of you following along on twitter, you already know.  Fourth Meal is important to me, especially when it involves two cheesy gordita crunch and one baja steak chalupa.  I couldnt’ tell you what was in the cheesy gordita crunch, all I can tell you is that the flavor and textures of that thing make it one of the most magical foods to ever make into my mouth.  Between that soft warp and crunchy taco with cheese used like glue and all the crap inside topped with that secret sauce….rapture.

All and all.  Hell of a day, couldn’t ask for a better forth day.

side note: sleep tonight will be the best its been in a long time. never underestimate the power of a good nights sleep.

Day two was the first day of work of the decade.  When I put it like that it actually sounds pretty big.  In fact, it was just another day on the job.  It all went smoothly and I couldn’t have been prouder of my staff for a great week that was coming to a close.  I no longer feared whether I had people who could get the job done.  After ending the work day I’d spend the remainder of the night hanging with a few buddies and laughing at the worlds dumbest partiers.

side note: It seems that my dreams have been becoming increasingly vivid and disturbing.  I am not scared by them, they wondering why there is so much fighting and epic.  I am waiting to find a definite connection.  When I know…you’ll know.

I’d like to know if anyone else has had any crazy dreams lately? Or even just find out what your craziest dream was.  Comment and let me know.  Let’s get the conversation rolling.

Part 2: Nightfall

*                    *                    *

Tokyo, Japan

The roads lay to waste.  Cars lined the roads as if shaken and thrown across a craps table.  Sirens filled the narrow roads and echoed up through the skyscrapers.  The last ray of light dips over the horizon.

A street light flashes green to the dead traffic that it once directed.  Still the streets remain empty and lifeless.  Suddenly a man emerges from the American Embassy.  He rubs his eyes in disbelief.  The once bustling streets of Tokyo, Japan have been reduced to a graveyard, but yet not one body remains to be seen.

The man pulls his black jacket shut and flips up the hood.  Inspecting the area the man sees holes in many of the windows and vehicles as if the bodies had been forced from them.

“Hello!!” There is no response.

He gasps for airs in a panic.  He turns, looking for anything or anyone, stubbling through the rubble.  A look of mystery and fear crosses his face.  The look that can only be given when every last person in Tokyo has vanished.  A slight brezze fills the air and the man calls out again.

“HELLO!” Nothing, “What the hell is going on here?”

The wind picks up and stirs the debris.  He ducks and covers for the nearby record shop, the door is locked.  He scans the area quickly and spots an enclosed bus stop.  The wind whips past his face, road signs and sheet metal soar through the air.  He kneels down and takes shelter in the corner .  The wind picks up more dragging cars through the streets.  The tires screech across the pavement.  Street lamps and poles tear themselves away from the road creating a shower of sparks and leaving darkness in it’s wake.  A car drags across the road violently.  The man looks up to see the car screeching towards him.

“No, no, no.”  He gets up and moves towards the opposite end of the bus-stop anticipating the car stopping at the curb.  Once more the wind picks up forcing the car up and over the curbside.  The high wind pulls the car up into the air and heaving it through the air ripping off the top of the small bus stop.  The man throws himself face down onto the ground with his hands over his head.

“Jesus Christ!”

Without warning the wind stops.  The man slowly emerges onto the street and lifts himself to his feet.  He can hear whispers in the distance.

“Is anyone out there?”  He puts his ear to the air.

“Now…” a voice says softly.  A loud rumble sounds in the distance and a shockwave throws the man to the ground followed by a plumb of smoke.

The man coughs while struggling to his feet, pulls his hook back up and looks through the settling smoke.

“…we are everywhere.”

A large crowd of people surround the man as the smoke settles. They all stand lifeless-like with eyes as dark as the night.

DESERT: Somewhere outside of Baghdad

The desert stretched for miles across the Earth.  The sun reflected back up through the atmosphere literally cooking the surface.  The sun raced towards the ground.  Off in the east two Arab men run for their lives, knowing not even what they run from.

A loud rumble sounds in the distance.  The sun continues to approach the horizon and dip behind the distant mountains.  The two men turn and look to the east towards a village.  The lights from the homes begin to go out and then buildings shake apart.  They exchange a panicking phrase in Arabic and begin to run into the west.  One of the men trips and falls to the ground.  The other looks back in fear.  A cloud of smoke rushes towards them.  He keeps running leaving his friend screaming in terror as he is swallowed by the smoke.  A shockwave hits the man from behind forcing him to the ground.  A dark figure rises from the desert sand.  The man looks up at the mid-sized man shrouded in black.

“Who are you?” the man says to the dark figure.  There is no response, only a nod.  The man turns to find his friend behind him.  His body lifeless and his eyes black.

“Ahmed, NO!” Snap out of it!”

“He is mine now.  As are you.”  The dark figure claps his hands.  All is dark and gray.

The Arab man stands in the middle of an empty gray-like desert.  He falls to his knees, puts his hands in his head and begins to cry.

*         *         *

My name is Turner Strauss.  Only one week ago I was thrust into one of the most terrifying, godless situations I had ever faced.  Today I live with the consequences of my actions.  I have learned that sometimes the best way around Hell is to blaze a path straight through it.

[to be continued]