RED FACED
AND
DOGHOUSED
AND
DOGHOUSED
Of course, this could never happen at YOUR house..... right?
BY
JACK LEA
Sitting here looking at my reflection in the blank monitor screen. I can see my face turning red as I think about what happened last night. It all began when I and a few members of my user group, the A.C.F., began programming a special program to be sent by way of telecommunication to prospective new members. The program was to be an application form for membership into the A.C.F. (Atari Computer Federation).
We almost had the program finished when Henry, the owner of "Henry's Chicken Shack", where we have our monthly meeting in the back room, came to the doorway and said "I'm sorry boys but tonight you fellows are going to have to shut it down. I've got to go home early, some of my kinfolk are coming over to the house. "Oh man!!", we all said in unison "just one more hour". "No", came a determined reply while at the same time snatching the wet dish towel off of his heavy shoulder. Art Conrad, the president of our group, looked at each one of us and asked, "OK, any ideas what we should do now"? After a brief debate amongst our selves, no one came up with any ideas. So I said with bravado "Lets go to my house; we can finish the program on Oscar (the name for my beloved 1200XL computer)".
I think this group knows if they wait long enough without volunteering that I'll end up taking on the job that has to be done. So we packed up all our gear and took off into the night in the direction of my house in a dozen cars. I could see the neighbors porch lights all popping on as our cars pulled up in front of my house. I thought to myself this looks like a swat team pulling up in the middle of the night for a drug bust. I got out and waved to all the members to come on in and told them to make themselves at home.
While they settled down in the living room, on the couch and in chairs, I went into the kitchen for a round of Chex Diet cokes for everyone. After about 15 minutes Art said "H.J. (that's me, Hacker Jack), it's getting late. We better get started on that program before it gets any later". "Where's your computer gear setup at?", Art said as he glanced about the living room. "Oh it's in the bedroom, ya'll come on back", I said as I started for the back bedroom. "Whoo, just a minute H.J. where's you wife at", Art said. Oh she's asleep but if we're careful we won't disturb her.
So with that they all looked at each other, shrugged their shoulders, and followed me into the bedroom. I stopped at the bedroom door and said in a low tone, "Shuu, now just let me open the door and check to make sure she's asleep". Doug, who was right behind me said, "What's that noise"? "Oh she sounds like that sometime when she first goes to sleep", I said in a reassuring way, "she'll stop after a while, ya'll come on in it's OK". "We made our way past the bed where the lamp on the night stand illuminated my sleeping princess while she laid there snoring .I sat down in my computer chair and booted up the program that we had been working on at Henry's Chicken Shack.
After about two more hours we all felt that the program was about as fine tuned as it was going to be. So I turned off the master switch on my console and powered down my 1200XL, and decided to call it a night. Bill, another group member, the one that I find hard to tolerate because of his pushy ways, reached to turn off the light at the same time as I was reaching to turn it off. It seemed like time stood still as I watched in horror while the lamp slowly fell off the desk top and crashed to the floor, exploding like a bomb going off. After that, everything seemed to happen so fast.
First whiskers, our cat, who had been peacefully sleeping at the foot of the bed sprang awake with a scream like an Irish Banshee with every hair standing on end. Jumped up and ran for the door. The poor animal was so frightened that it ran smack into the closed door, knocking itself out cold.
Then my wife woke up and that's when things took a turn for the worse. You see with the uneasy times we've been having in our nation, I had decided a few days ago I would go to George's pawn shop and purchase one of those new pepper spray cans that is suppose to be more powerful then Mace. I wanted the most bang for my bucks so I got the hiker and camper model. George said, "Boy this one will knock down a grizzly in his tracks at twenty feet". So naturally that's the one I got. Well anyway after my wife gave out with two hoots and a holler she reached for that pepper spray can and blasted away at all us intruders in her bedroom.
In the panic I forgot that I lived there and was just as big a hurry to get out of there as everyone else was. Red slimy mist swirled about our heads as my wife kept her finger hard on that spray can button. By the time we got out of that bedroom we couldn't see or breath. It sure seemed like a long, long way to that front door. We came out of that house like crazy men, which by then I think we were. We went off the porch, onto the lawn, fell on the ground.
We were rolling around all over the place trying to get a breath of fresh night air. My eyes were burning, my nose was running, my throat was burning, I couldn't see. I was now starting to hear a high pitched sound in my ears. Man how many different effects does this pepper gas cause a person. The next thing I knew some kind soul was helping me to my feet, and that's when I realized what that high pitched sound was. It was police sirens. The neighbors had called the police when they had heard all those screams and hollows in the middle of the night, and that kind soul that was helping me up turned out to be one big policeman.
I finally managed to explain to the officials what had happened and they let us go with a stiff fine for disturbing the peace. I'm now doing my computing out here in the tool shed with Mojo, our dog, he seems to be happy I'm out here with him. Uh, am glad some body's glad I'm around. I wonder If after this incident if I'm still in the computer club; uh, I wonder if I'm still married.
