Close Encounters of the Jimmy Kind by Yossarian Hunter

Close Encounters of the Jimmy Kind

When Jimmy called, I knew he needed a favor. He’s been struggling for a while, charges left and right in addition to one wicked monkey on his back. When he asked if I had a couple ps2 games he could borrow, that was odd. Used to be he’d call needing a rig or a couple k4’s. Having cleaned up about five years ago myself, video games came as a relief. I can do that.

“Man, they dropped the twenty six misdemeanors and gave me five years paper for the felony. The non-adjudicated felony.” Some guys get all the breaks. Jimmy ain’t one of them, but it seemed to be his turn. “I’ma video game playing fool till I get this behind me. Oh yeah, I got an old ghetto-ass tv too. You got one-a them adapters for a Playstation?”

I had the RF switch he needed, but no power source. Fuck, I knew I’d need that thing again, but threw it away a week ago anyway. Spring cleaning in the middle of winter. “I do, but I’ll have to pass through Wally-World and pick up a power adaptor. See ya in a bit.”

The Iranians I needed to talk to about a job were nowhere to be found. Typical. I popped into Wal-mart for the power supply. Multi-voltage power source ten bucks. Checking the RF switch for voltage and polarity yielded no usable information. Another disposable modern convenience. New RF switch eighteen bucks. Better call Jimmy and check his finances. Mine were for shit. Spotting him ten could be done, but twenty would put me in a nicotine fit. “Aw man, fuck that power thingy. We’ll make it work.” If you say so Jimmy.

I got over to Jimmy’s new place at crosstown and tried to make the switch work. It would run cable through just fine, but without power the rca inputs were not going to convert to co-ax. Jimmy was unphased. “I’ll head over and liberate one in a bit. Wal-mart’s kinda like the government. I don’t steal from friends but the man is another story.” Yep, same old Jimmy.

“Come on man, you’re on paper.”

“Not yet I ain’t. Don’t report till next Thursday.” Great. A one week time bomb.
He was about to take off on his BMX when Josh hollered down from the upstairs apartment.

“Hey maine, got the new Midnight Club and a phatty. Let’s bake.”

Bet. Josh used to work for the Iranians and I needed to talk about that a little. Plus he has a nice Takamine to boot. Sounded like fun.

Jimmy and I were racing when his phone started barking. I was driving a 69 Camaro. Detroit muscle gives me wood. Jimmy is more of a new-school kind of guy. He drove some sort of Mazda. I was killing him when we got interrupted.

Jimmy’s off and on girl Tara has been in stir for about a month. Something about vandalizing the car of another chic Jimmy was banging. So maybe he does get all the breaks. He beat the charges, after all, and has more whores chasing him than I could shake my dick at. Fucker.

He hit the speaker on button. “Hey what are you doing” was as far as Tara got before being cut off by “…is attempting to call you from a correctional facility. Do you accept the charges? Press one to accept, press two to refuse.” Jimmy pressed neither. “I’m sitting here wishing you were on my dick.” The call auto-terminated after that. Apparently that is how they communicate. A series of call and response sessions with recorded operator drivel in-between.

Ring. “I better be the only one on your dick” Operator. “Then you better get out soon” Click.

Ring. “I’m serious. Don’t be fuc...” Operator. “I am too. When you out?” Click.

Ring. “Next week. I’ll know if…” Operator. “I got two bitches here now. Whatcha gonna do?” Click.

Ring. “Don’t fuck with me, I’ll…” Operator. “You get out, I’ll still get mine. Now and then.” Click. I love this guy. He’s right, too. I mean, a chick that would blow you at the table in the bar with TJO playing live to a packed house can’t have too many principles, can she?

They went back and forth a few more times before another inmate needed some phone time. Josh fired the hooter and we went back to the races. When Jimmy reached for the joint, I jumped and knocked him back. “Whoa man, you’ze on paper, remember? You wanna go to prison or what?”

“Man, I already told you I don’t start till next week. Let a brother get his buzz on.” I really couldn’t argue with that, so we smoked. Two or three joints later I was baked and hungry and ready for the drive back home. Jimmy was ready to go to wal-mart.

“Come on Jimmy, you just got all those charges dropped, now you’re gonna catch another one. That switch is in a big plastic shell box and the make-the-alarm-go-off-thingy is on the inside. Don’t be a fool.”

“I’m not. It’s wal-mart, man. They got scissors too.”

©2009 yossarian hunter