SWK seeking contract killer?

>>SWK seeking contract killer?

So now some poor soul in Hillsboro thinks I’m trying to off somebody.

Headed over to the Cornelius Roadhouse tonight to meet Steve-the-kilngod and kick off the Intelligent Kiln Project (more about that later). Arriving, I realized that (a) I had no idea what Steve-the-kilngod looked like and (b) Cornelius Roadhouse is a big place full of guys waiting for the rest of their party.

My search algorithm consisted of walking up to solitary dudes who seemed to be waiting and saying, “Hi, are you Steve-who-does-kilns?” The first 11 said no, clearly relieved NOT to be the blind date I was apparently seeking. (Humpfh)

The 12th was about as far from the Roadhouse’s usual Intel pocket-protector crowd as you can get: White guy with Rastafarian hair, long beard, grubby fingernails, torn jeans, worn-out biker boots and a bright yellow T-shirt with the “Have a nice day” smiley face on front. Of course, this smiley face had a bullet wound between the eyes with blood gushing out…

For some reason, I decided that this was my wild-and-woolly kilnbuilder. “You’re Steve who does kilns, right? Am I glad to meet you–I really need to get the whole kiln thing settled.”

His mouth dropped open in surprise and his eyes grew wide and round, “I’m Steve, but I don’t know that I can help you. It doesn’t solve anything in the long run, you know.”

Huh? “Uh… Well, it will solve my firing problem. I can’t get a decent piece cast until I have a good kiln.”

‘You were fired?”

“No, my kiln isn’t firing,” I said patiently, slowing down my rate of speech, “that’s why I want a new kiln.”

“Oh, K-I-L-N kiln! I thought you said killin’ and I don’t do those. I guess the clothes misled you, right?”

“An honest mistake,” I sniffed, wondering what it was that he DID do. He looked at me oddly as he moved away; I saw him later talking to the hostess and pointing in the direction of my table. She gave me fisheyed looks for the rest of my stay.

Suspicious old world, ain’t it?

P.S. Turned out that the real Steve had brought his son along and cleverly disguised himself as a party of two, which threw me off. I passed him up several times while seeking my standalone kilngod. We finally connected when I called his mobile and watched for someone to answer his phone…

2015-11-07T16:31:16+00:00

2 Comments

  1. Ed LaPlante July 23, 2008 at 12:14 pm - Reply

    I would imagine a sucessfull hit man would not look the part so you could find another profession!

  2. ang July 16, 2008 at 7:26 am - Reply

    that is the funniest thing i’ve read all night…….

Comments welcome! (thanks)

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