I'm Not Responsible

(I avoid responsibility at all costs.)

Yesterday, I woke up at 6 a.m. and drank a cup of freshly brewed coffee. Then I read the headlines on my smartphone while taking a nasty shit. South Korea still has the death penalty, but no criminal has actually been greased since a hanging in 1997. So it’s pretty much just symbolic at this point. But that creates a huge problem since the maximum prison term here on the peninsula is thirty years. In fact, there are a couple of cold-blooded murderers expecting to be released any day now. Luckily, the powers-that-be are in talks to legalize life sentences before these monsters are dumped upon an unsuspecting public. Smart thinking.

I ate hash browns for breakfast as I surfed the internet. In 2001, an FBI agent named Robert Hanssen pled guilty to espionage. He was working with the Russians, and some of his information actually got people killed. He earned over a million dollars selling state secrets to the Kremlin. For his disloyalty, Robert was sent to a supermax prison in Colorado for the remainder of his existence. Well, Mr. Hanssen died the other day alone in his cell. He was 79 years old. There was actually a movie about him that was released in 2007. It’s called Breach, and it’s pretty damn good. Chris Cooper and Laura Linney deliver wonderful performances.

I called my mother using Facebook Messenger. My sister was there.

Mom said, “So what have you been up to?”

I said, “Nothing much. I worked my second job last night.”

“Are you feeling rough?”

I shook my head. “Not really. All I do is stare at the television and hand out potato chips and soda to the teenagers. It’s easy money.”

“What did you watch?”

“Sports. The Yankees are in Los Angeles playing the Dodgers.”

“Have the games been good?”

“Yes. Very entertaining. In fact, a guy named Aaron Judge actually crashed through a wall to catch a fly ball. It reminded me of the Musters. Do you remember that show?”

She nodded. “Yes, you used to love it.”

“Anyway, Herman Munster did the exact same thing in one of the episodes.”

“Is the guy all right?”

“Who?”

“The one who crashed through the wall.”

“He hurt his toe. He’s going back to New York to get it checked out. But he seems to be fine. The dude actually looks like Frankenstein. He’s built like the monster, too.”

I drove to work in my ancient SUV. Rice-Boy Larry was sleeping in the passenger’s seat. The kid never talks to me. That’s why I’m so close to my mother. Nobody else in my family ever speaks to their poor old dad. Plus my wife is a loon. I certainly can’t have a conversation with her. All she does is scream.

Anyway, I got to my classroom at 8 a.m. and checked my emails. Another school is interested in hiring me. This place is also in Seoul. It pays a little more money, but not enough for me to make the move. I’m too lazy to pack up all my belongings for some paltry chump change.

My day at work went well. I shot the shit with some of the middle schoolers during class.

One girl said, “I asked my parents to buy me In Cold Blood by Truman Capote.”

I said, “Don’t tell them I recommended the novel. I don’t want to get in trouble.”

“Why would you get in trouble?”

“It’s about the homicide of an entire family. Mom and Dad might not like it.”

“Relax. They love to see me reading books.”

“OK. But always get their permission first. And never use my name in any conversations.”

Another girl said, “You’re being silly.”

I looked her in the eyes. “Maybe so. But I avoid responsibility at all times. That’s just how I roll.”

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