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Randy Quaid (@RandyRRQuaid) | Twitter

 

Read the thread. This is some great writing, IMO. @typefitter what say ye?




What follows is true. August 15, 2018. DTLA. So, this guy is walking down the street. A rumpled, stained, fast food uniform. Obviously just off a long day of serving ungrateful, hurried guests. But he knows self-care. He's got himself an ice cream cone.

And he is in a state of nirvana. He's enjoying this (I'm sure well deserved) ice cream cone like it's the last one he's ever gonna have. He is focused. No one has ever been this focused, except maybe Carlos Hathcock.

His focus is only broken by the sound of a bus... I watch him look, and see the realization come over his face - this bus is where he is headed with his delicious feast. And that there is no way he gets there before it leaves... unless he runs.

Now, our boy isn't small. There's some density here. There's been other days of ice cream cone victories and solo pizza parties. But he's going to try. Goddamn it, he's going to try. So, our boy begins to run...

I'm sure even in lycra, sprinter's cleats, and empty hands, our boy is only going to move this mass so fast. He's got his backpack over one shoulder, and that glorious cone of delight in the other hand. And let me pause here to tell you, this isn't just any cone.

This is one of those cones where the ice cream towers almost twice the length of the cone itself. It's a balancing act. and just licking it still, let alone in medias res, would be a feat. If I'd be close enough to the bus I would've simply had the driver wait..
But I was watching all this unfold before me like a live action film, a broadway play on the streets of downtown LA. So, our boy is running, as much as he can run, because though he is running, his focus is the cone.

The cone is life. The cone is everything. He's running, but only to the point where his speed does not upset the melting Matterhorn that is his entire existence right now. But he's doing great! He's found a rhythm that gives him maximum speed while keeping all sweets upright...

Until the curb. He trundles off the curb, crossing the street, and things nearly go south. He slows, bends, and pulls off this extraordinary move worthy of headlining Cirque du Soleil. My jaw drops, but his ice cream does not.

But the move to keep Life (I've named the ice cream cone "Life") upright has cost our boy precious seconds. He regains his stride and is running again. Up onto the next sidewalk - the tail of the bus is in view now. He's gonna make it!

And then our boy, and this is why I will love him forever, this is why I will be telling this story for years, our boy TAKES A LICK! He slows his pace again just enough to manage a full on semi-suck lick of Life. There's other buses, but there will never be this cone again.

I catch myself wanting to scream, "GO!" I glance around to share this moment with someone. But no one, literally no one else is witnessing this episode of the human condition play out. I silently urge our boy on, and he is running again...

But the bus, unaware of the Herculean feats taking place behind it, is horrifically unaware. I see the black smoke from the exhaust, I hear the rumble as the driver guns the engine. I look to our boy - back to the bus - COME ON!!!

And when he and Life are twenty yards from victory, twenty yards from glory, twenty yards from Home... the bus rolls away. But our boy refuses to give up the quest. He is still running, balancing Life in his hand.

GALLIPOLI flashes in my mind. I can feel my heart beginning to break. Our boy runs, and runs, even though the bus is now nearly out of sight. He runs.

Our boy runs to the bus stop, then runs another futile few yards before finally, after giving more than he's likely given ever in his life, finally, the cold, hard hands of defeat to wrap his neck and squeeze...

I am frozen. In awe. The cone is Life. Life was saved. Our boy sacrificed everything for Life. Before I knew what is happening I am now running. Across four lanes of traffic to our boy.

I get there and tell him I saw it all. Every move, every gallant stride, every split-second decision. I saw how he was not letting anything come between him and Life. He nods, unable to catch enough breath to speak. I pull out my phone.

I call for a Lyft. I tell him I'm sending him anywhere he wants to go, on me. He waves me off, but I insist. He tells me his route home includes two bus transfers. Not today. He finally gives me the address, and within 2 minutes Lyft is there.

I instruct the driver to avoid all potholes, our boy was carrying the precious cargo of Life. I tell him good luck, and thank him. "For what?" he asks. "For everything," I reply.

I hold Life as our boy folds himself into the Jetta. I give him Life. He says thanks, and as I watch the Jetta swallowed up by the never-ending phalanx that is LA traffic, my eyes are wet. Filled with water. But I'm sure it's just the wind. /end

 

I saw this independent of your posting it here, and I loved it. I sat on a bench and read it and then passed it to my girlfriend and told her to read it. I smiled so wide at GALLIPOLI.

 

How about no?

 

OMG that was even funnier than I thought it would be when I read about it.

 

Oh Jesus, I just Lol'd way harder than I should ever laugh at that tweet

 

Go back to #250, the original tweet, and read the comments. There are dozens of absolute howlers in there.