Successfully reported this slideshow.
You’ve unlocked unlimited downloads on SlideShare!
[THE ROSEVEAR REPORT]: A real-time account of my day.
[The Rosevear Files: A Report]
This is an account of my day. Topics include vomit, adult
films, and real estate.
I smelled vomit. Whose vomit, I wasn’t sure. It could have
been mine, though I don’t recall getting sick anytime within
the last 48 hours. Or was it the baby’s? Could it be? We just
bathed her. Nevermind, there are more pressing matters at
hand. It’s time to put the baby to sleep. Goodnight Moon. I
read it, and read it again. And then again, in reverse. A pink
castle in the corner of the room began screaming at me out of
nowhere. These toys, they really do have minds of their own.
At last my sweetheart was ready for bed and down she went.
Back to the vomit. I’d tied a few on, but I think I’d know if I’d
let a few go.
The day began with house hunting. We’re headed for the
burbs and today was day one on the prowl. It’s going to be an
adventure, no doubt. I’ll spare you the details but suffice to
say you can tell alot about a person by the shit they hang on
Then it was time to pay a visit to my friend Fred. He had
invited me to swing by his place for a film club, a few friends
gathering to watch some arty movie and enjoy some bevvies.
I’d never met Fred in person but we had a digital relationship
that stretches back at least a year if not two. We’ve done
business together, I’ll leave it at that.
Showing up empty handed is just rude, so I grabbed a half
bottle of Wild Turkey and set out on foot. Upon arriving at
Tom’s and meeting his other guests, we all made nice with
the chit chat and it was a lovely time. Fresh baked cookies
were distributed, an hour or two passed, and the gang
decided to head out for a bite to eat.
I had to get back to the homestead so I declined, but I did
hear two of the fellas discussing a DVD laying there on the
counter entitled “Felicity”.
Evidently it was an obscure adult film. Not like a tasteless
one. From the looks of the cover (A 80’s style girl in pigtails
suggestively eating a chocolate bar) it seemed like something
that could be right up my alley. You know, in the Screwballs
I asked if I could borrow it. The one guy laughed, “Hell no,
it’s my roommates. I think P.J. ripped a copy though.” P.J.
said he’d email me a download. “Fun time with the wife, eh?”
he said, or something like that. “You know it,” I said, or
something like that.
The chit chat continued until it was time to walk. We left,
strolling along the streets of Jersey City on a fine day, a
supremely fine day—truthfully the finest day this city has
seen in months.
We walked a ways and then it was time to part. “See ya,” we
all shook hands one by one. “Drop me a line,” I said to P.J. as
I walked away. “You mean email you a porno?” he yelled
across the street in a sing-song voice, giving me the double
thumbs up. That was pretty hilarious.
On the walk home I decided to pop into the Silver Cricket, a
little dive on Greene run by an older Chinese gentleman
I came in, took a seat. There were just a few others at the bar
and there was this wonderful music playing on the speakers.
I couldn’t place it. It had sort of an Eastern feel to it, but it
was not overtly Asian. There were notes of the future and
nods to the past.
I had to know what it was, so naturally I Shazammed it.
Nothing. This strange brew had even evaded Shazamm -- an
incredible technology I’d seen breezily identify long-lost
rocksteady tunes blaring from an SUV parked two East
Village blocks away.
I had to know. I asked Barry, “What’s this playing?”
“This? This is Yanni.”
Jesus. Yanni. This guy with his hair and his moustache. Wow.
He’s actually really good, I never knew. I guess I never
wanted to know.
The Lakers were on, beating Oklahama 74-72. So we get into
it, me and Barry. Start talking this and that.
“How’s the year going,” I said.
“Ah, it’s been tough. This weather,” he said.
“No, I mean the New Year.”
The Chinese New Year had recently passed and Barry had
informed me that it was the year of the Wooden Horse. That
meant rough waters ahead.
“Ah, the Wooden Horse,” he said. “Well, two days to look out
for. March 16th and July 1st.”
“Oh yeah? Why?”
“March 16th, there’s supposed to be a big war.”
“Yes. And July 1st, look out for U.S. currency. There are laws
going to be passed, it has to do with reserve currency. We’ve
been on reserve currency for 40, 50 years. Do you know
about reserve currency?”
“What, like we used to back our money with gold and now it’s
“Exactly. The back of a bill, it says in God we trust. In God
“Not gold, God,” I said, chuckling. I thought I was pretty
“Think about it,” Barry said. “That’s against the
constitution.” I thought about it.
“Right, right,” I said. “Church and state.”
“Yeah. People don’t know what to believe. They’re bringing
back prayer in some schools in Alabama or something.”
I could smell the tooth decay from across the bar. Barry went
on to tell me about his plans to knock the Cricket down and
turn it into a 7-story apartment complex. Real estate, he
said. The banks are crooks. Real estate was the only place to
put your money, if you were lucky enough to have any.
This seemed to make sense. I finished my Budweiser, bid
him farewell, and hit the trail.
Which brings me to the vomit. I’d been fine. Between the film
club and the Silver Cricket, I’d felt perfectly ordinary. I got
home and played with the dog a bit. She smelled like poopy,
but not vomit. And yet, when I was rocking my dear sweet
precious baby to sleep—the vomit stench, it was undeniable.
I will continue to investigate this matter but for the time
being please be aware of your own surroundings. Should you
encounter any unidentifiable vomit in your area, do let me
know. Together perhaps we can diagnose the origin of this
foul stench once and for all.