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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/419534-WWW-Night
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Rated: 18+ · Book · Writing · #464720
You supply the reading. I'll supply the writing.
#419534 added April 20, 2006 at 12:07am
Restrictions: None
WWW Night
Denny is the first to arrive, always eager to lay claim to his favourite chair.

John soon follows and makes idle chit-chat with our glorious leader Stan about the unusually mild winter we've just had.

Harold and Alex are huddled together off to one side, exchanging copies of their latest girlie mags.

Angus enters, complaining loudly as always. It doesn't really matter what he's annoyed about as he's always annoyed about something. He grumbles as Stan points towards the laundry room where he must now wander off to sit beside the washer and dryer. The laundry room is the 'smoker's room'. Angus argues he doesn't even have any cigarettes with him but he's still ordered to spend the evening all alone in there regardless. Angus is told he's still a smoker whether he's smoking or not. Rules are rules afterall.

Stan's cat, Buster, sits on the rec room couch licking his private parts while biding his time. He knows Thursday nights are not to be missed.

Steve makes his way down the basement stairs but Stan gestures for him to go back up for he is not welcome here tonight. His suspension from the club isn't over yet. We all like Steve...well everybody but Angus...but we all agreed we can never tolerate another cheese incident. For the good of the club he must be banned until the rumours die down.

Mr Wu and his three sons, Big Wu, Little Wu and Other Wu sit at the card table nearest the stairs. Big Wu sets down a burlap sack next to his chair while Little Wu hurries off to get his father some tea.

I turn as I hear someone say my name, only to discover it was meant for the other Gary in the group. He's the new guy. Tonight is his first night. I chuck a book of matches from across the room at the other Gary hitting him squarely in the forehead. "Oops. Sorry." I feign regret while trying to convince the other Gary using crude sign language the matches just slipped out of my hand by accident. I hate sharing my name. As the bogus Gary turns away from me, another book of matches hits him in the back of his head. I put on my best Who me? face while trying to look innocent. I really hate sharing my name. Why does he have to use my name anyways? Why can't he get his own name? I liked being the only Gary in the club.

Charlene enters, as usual sitting down right beside me, and as usual, Harold and Alex rush over to make sure they sit as close to Charlene as they can. She smiles at me, finds some excuse to take my hand in her's and tells me I'm looking good as ever. "Your hair feels soooooo nice n' soft and smells soooooo good. What shampoo are you using?" She asks while fluttering her lashes so close they tickle my ear, but I have no time for her idle chit-chat. I suggest she sits next to John if she wants to talk. I must get my knives and saws ready. We'll be starting in only a few minutes.

It's seven pm on a Thursday night. In the little town of Whitby, at # 9 Shelby Dr, we've all gathered together just like we do every seven o'clock on a Thursday night.

We are the Whitby Wednesday Whittlers.

(My more observant readers may have noticed we meet on Thursdays and not Wednesdays. We switched to Thursdays last year when Arnold and Jeff complained they had bowling every Wednesday. Both Arnold and Jeff have since quit the club but we've carried on keeping the new day and our old name)

Stan now moves to the front of the room and calls for order. Little Wu hurries back with Mr Wu's second cup of tea, I ask Charlene if she wouldn't mind giving me some elbow room and from the other room, Angus shouts "What's going on out there?".

Stan informs us Mr Wu was last week's winner, which draws a loud moan from Angus in the laundry room and from those sitting at all the card tables in the rec room except for the Wu's, who cheer and applaud enthusiastically. It seems Mr Wu always wins. He's eighty something years old, doesn't speak any English and has such bad arthritis he can barely make a fist for Heaven's sake, and yet his cravings are voted to be the best week after friggin' week!

Big Wu translates for Mr Wu what Stan has just said as Other Wu helps his father stand to accept the small wooden plaque he's won for last week's whittling contest. Mr Wu gives us a broad grin and says something to the group in Chinese. Angus shouts out from the laundry room to "Shut up ya crooked little Commie bastard." Angus screams out the contest is rigged. That somebody other than Stan should be counting the votes. He claims Stan can't possibly be impartial seeing as Mr Wu is his landlord. Stan asks Angus to pipe down or he's going to have to close the laundry room door again this week. The rest of us bite our tongues. Stan's house is the only place where we can all agree on to meet at. (Besides, noone else will allow Angus in their home)

Stan calls for order again and then informs us tonight's whittling challenge is about to begin. We're all eager with anticipation as he tells us we'll have fifteen minutes to carve a complete chess set. That's 32 figures in all! I fumble for my calculator and figure out I'm going to have less than half a minute to carve each figure!!!! I look at the block of basswood I brought with me and mentally decide how I'm going to slice it up. Meanwhile Big Wu empties the burlap sack he brought with him onto the card table in front of his father. Oddly enough, there just happens to be about 32 little pieces of wood...some of which already look somewhat like chess pieces. Hmmm. Mr Wu and his three sons divide the various wooden pieces amongst themselves and begin whittling. They're the only ones in the club who whittle as a team, (with Mr Wu taking the honours if...make that when they win). Team Wu is a blur of fast moving fingers, carving knives, chisels and saws. The rest of us silently look at one another. Another hmmm. I'm thinking I have a pretty good idea who's gonna be winning this week too.

14 minutes, 54 seconds to go...Denny has just realized he's forgotten to bring his knives and craving tools with him. He starts asking the others if he can borrow theirs.

14:38 to go...John says he can use his old set but he'll have to go get it himself as he hands Denny his car keys. He says they're in the trunk of his car in Stan's driveway.

14:33 to go...Angus shouts from the laundry room. He wants to know if the contest has started yet.

13:40 to go...Charlene edges around from her side of the card table to mine. She wants me to have a peek at the piece of wood she's holding in her hand. She's holding it all wrong. She says she can't remember if she's supposed to cut with the grain or against it. I ask her not to bother me right now and to sit on her own side of the table again. I can't concentrate on my whittling when she sits so close to me.

13:28 to go...Charlene doesn't scoot back to her side of the table, but instead moves even closer to me. She claims she's having trouble holding one of her craving tools properly. She wants me to show her the correct way, but valuable seconds are ticking away. I'm still only on my first carving.

13:17 to go...Harold slides around the card table and sits beside Charlene. He offers to help Charlene but she ignores him and continues to pester me. The three of us are now crammed together on what should be my side of the card table.

13:02 to go...I ask Stan to get Charlene and Harold on their sides of the table. I don't have time for any of this.

12:24 to go...Angus shouts to us again. He wants to know if he can start whittling yet.

12:07 to go...Alex cries out in pain as he cuts one of his fingers. I had expected someone to cut themselves long before now actually. Each of us wears numerous band-aids and scars form previous Thursdays. Sometimes I wonder if mixing racing and carving knives is such a good idea.

11:46 to go...Denny gets back with the spare set of tools from John's car. Denny complains to Stan his favourite chair is now taken. Stan tells Angus to go back to the laundry room.

11:08 to go...Stan's elderly mother calls to Stan to meet her at the top of the stairs for a sec. We hear Stan tell his mother "she shouldn't have gone to all this trouble." and that "we're too busy right now." , but his mom says "nonsense" and "is that anyway for you to treat your guests Stanley?".

10:43 to go...Stan makes his way down the basement stairs carrying a large tray of mugs. He's got steaming hot coco for everybody while his mom follows carrying a tray of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies and a tray of tunafish sandwiches. Stan asks his mom to leave the refreshments to one side, that we'll get to them after we've finished whittling but she insists on handing out the goodies to each of us while they're hot.

10:31 to go...Alex cries out in pain, cutting himself yet again as Stan's mom hands him his coco.

10:02 to go..."Thank you Mrs Weaver." I say to Stan's mom as I accept the coco and cookies she offers me.

9:34 to go...Some of us snicker to ourselves as we notice Stan's cat, Buster, munching away on Little Wu's sandwich right under his nose.

9:18 to go...John cries out. His hand gets cut while reaching across in front of Denny for a cookie.

8:54 to go...Mrs Weaver heads back up stairs to fetch a new box of band-aids.

8:44 to go...There's now more giggling as Little Wu puts his partially cat-eaten sandwich up to his mouth. Buster meanwhile has moved on to check out other unattended tunafish sandwiches.

8:36 to go...The other Gary cries out as he experiences his first cut.

8:32 to go...The other Gary cries out again. Apparently someone has thrown one of their choclate chip cookies and hit him in the head with it. The bogus Gary glares at me while I wink, nod my head and point my finger at Charlene.

8:06 to go...After hearing the other Gary complain about getting hit with the cookie, Angus complains he didn't get any munchies. He wants to know where his cookies are.

8:02 to go...Eight chocolate chip cookies and a couch pillow go hurling through the air into the laundry room.

8:00 to go...Angus shouts and then gives us an impressive display of his swearing skills.

7:55 to go...Various freshly baked items come speeding back towards us from the laundry room...causing many of us to dive for cover, which also causes two card tables to flip over. Buster swoops in to check out all the edibles now lying on the floor.

7:50 to go...The other Gary gets hit in the head with another cookie.

7:41 to go...Stan tries to get things back under control. A quick count confirms three more cut fingers...two of which belong to Alex. Stan lectures us on the perils of food fights and carving knives.

7:12 to go...Stan's mom is back with the band-aids. Fortunately we don't think she noticed the cookie bits, sandwich pieces and spilled coco all over the place as Stan took the band-aids from her before she got all the way down the stairs.

6:34 to go...Hurrah! I've got my first chess piece done. It's not nearly as good as I'd like but this is a race afterall. One down, only thirty one more to go.

6:17 to go...Charlene is next to me once again. She wants me to look at something or other as she reaches right across in front of me. I remind her that is not a very safe thing to do around someone speed carving. It's only then do I realize how inappropriate she's dressed for competitive whittling. Heels, short skirt and fuzzy low cut sweater. Oh my. Funny I didn't notice before.

5:49 to go...The Wu's once again are putting on a most impressive display of speed carving. They cheer each time one of them finishes a piece. It seems like every few seconds they are cheering.

5:47 to go...Angus shouts at the Wu's. He says their cheering is putting him off and he threatens to restart the food fight if they continue.

5:42 to go...The other Gary gets hit with another cookie. He looks at me and this time he's looking particularly annoyed. I point towards the laundry room. I don't think he's buying it but I don't care. What does he expect? Stupid name stealing wanker.

5:36 to go...Stan decides he's had enough and tells us all to stop carving right away. He wants us all to leave. We'll be judged on what we've managed to finish. He gathers up all the pieces and labels who carved them. Tomorrow he'll display them on our club's shelf behind the cash register in Henderson's garage. There's a ballot box on the counter customers use to vote for their favourites.

Angus asks if he can come out now. Stan says for him to wait a bit longer while the nonsmokers leave. Judging from the complaining coming out of the laundry room, Angus doesn't sound like a happy camper.

The other Gary makes his way across the room and says he wants to talk with me outside. Meanwhile Charlene tells me not to bother with him, that she'd like for her and I to go get a cup of coffee or something. Harold and Alex ask if they can come too and while Charlene tells them to piss off, I head up stairs to meet the other Gary outside.

I find we actually had quite a bit to say to each other. I also find he was kinda upset with me but I couldn't help feeling somewhat foolish when I learn his name isn't Gary but Garry! Well that changed everything! He didn't steal my name afterall. He's only a Garywannabe. Garrys are very poor imitations of Garys and should be pitied, not hated. All my feelings of hostility towards him immediately vanished. Apparently Garry wasn't so forgiving though because he took a swing at me. Luckily he hit Charlene instead of me as she stepped between us to break us up. Garry felt very bad about that...as he should. The stupid moron. I guess Charlene doesn't like getting punched though because all she wanted to do then was go right home. I asked if she'd be ok and offered to drive her home but I got the impression she preferred not to talk and just wanted to go home by herself. I waved goodbye to her, told Garrrrrrrrrrry what a jerk he was for hitting a woman and then hurried home hoping to catch ER before it started.

So that's what I did last night. Pretty boring huh?


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Please note...No gerbils were harmed during the writing of this journal entry.











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Printed from https://shop.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/419534-WWW-Night