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Bigwig is a systems administrator at a public university
Hrairoo is the proprietor of a quality used bookstore
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Woundwort is a professor of counseling at a private university

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October 21, 2003

Posts From the Mists Of Time

Turned out that I had been the victim of confusion on the part of Ocracoke Cable when I contacted them about Internet access prior to the fishing trip. I asked if I could get Internet access through them while on the island, having become addicted to the surfing speed allowed me by a cable modem. Ocracoke cable heard "can I get Internet access while on the island?" and referred me to what I later discovered was a dial-up contact at the grocery store.

Yes, at the grocery store. On can purchase bananas, Internet access and eggs in one fell swoop at the Ocracoke Island Variety Store, thus allowing that fine establishment to live up to its name.

Dial-up I already had, however. I'm sure you noticed how much I used it during the trip. The laptop ended up being a glorified jukebox, though it did allow the Southerners among us to introduce/inflict the homespun wit of Jerry Clower on the Oxymoronic Scotsman.

I did attempt to blog once, late on Sunday night, when I was dancing just on the other side of the precipice of sleep. Hate to have it go to waste, so here it is.

-------------

Made a deposit to the karma bank on Friday. I've been withdrawing from it ever since. Starting to wonder how much good karma $301.18 will buy a man.

The fishing trip officially started today, but Woundwort, Jawbreaker and I drove down Friday to spend the Woundwort family river house, allowing us to catch an early ferry today. I had stopped at a little seafood house in New Bern to buy bait, but it was closed. I sat in the car wondering where in the hell I was going to find bait now. Damn world, damn frickin' seafood store, closing at 4:40 in the afternoon.

As I set in the car having a nice fume, an elderly black lady tottered out from the offices on the other side of the building, heading towards a group of her peers that had congregated around a church van on the other side of the lot.

She saw me glaring at the unlit "Open" sign in the window of the fish market and paused by the car.

"Don't worry, honey," she told me. "He'll be back in ten minutes."

And so he was. I hopped out of the car, desperate to buy mullet and shrimp before someone else purchased my bait for their dinner, and trod on a lumpy bank envelope. In it was the aforementioned $301.18.

I was tempted, sorely, but tucked the cash back in the muddy pay packet and turned it into the market.

30 seconds after I bought my fish and got back in the car, into the market tottered the lady, at a much faster pace that before. She emerged with the muddy envelope clutched tightly in her fist, blessing me up and down for my nice white boy ways.

It felt pretty good. Karma in the bank

-------------

Note that I never actually list the karma withdrawals. Don't actually remember most of them now, but one of the main ones was catching my keys just before I accidently flung them over the side of a moving ferry. Another was having my wallet turn up after a two day absence.

There were a number of others, though. Once I had karma in the bank, it was amazing the plethora of events that conspired to reduce the balance.

Posted by Bigwig at October 21, 2003 09:58 PM | TrackBack
Postscript:
First time visitor to House Hraka? Wondering if everything we produce could possibly be as brilliant/stupid/evil/pedantic/insipid/inspired as the post you just read? Check out the Hraka Essentials, the (mostly) reader-selected guide to Hraka's best posts, and decide for yourself.
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