Subject: DVD Story

That Freaks and Geeks box set.

On Fri 28 Mar, 16:46 Dan Collins wrote:

You say I am, but when I finish this story, you may not think I’m such a good guy.

I was going through boxes of stuff I still haven't unpacked. I found this old DVD box set: Freaks and Geeks. I never really liked that show. I find Daniel annoying. Every time we watched that show together, Gloria would bring up how attractive she found him. It’s not like she’s ever going to bump into James Franco, but it bothered me for some reason. Seth Rogan was young and not that funny yet, and the whole thing felt like it needed to age. But… when we were newly married, it was Gloria's favorite show. I was going to drop it off for her next time I picked up Leah, but I had this devious little thought. I went straight to the only pawn shop in town and got 5 bucks for it, and then I bought a coffee on my way to the hardware store. I thought you'd approve. Though, by the time my shift was over, I didn’t feel particularly good about it.

Literally the day I did this; Gloria calls me when I get home. She asks if I happen to have her Freaks and Geeks box set. I say, maybe its in one these boxes I haven’t unpacked. Then she drops the hammer: she knows I have it. The last time Leah was over she was looking through my box of DVDs trying to find Hamilton and saw it. I made up a story, said I wanted to binge watch it before I gave it back… that’s all. She wasn’t convinced, but that’s how we left things. Gloria and I were just starting to get amicable too.

First thing next morning, determined to get the ex-wife’s DVD back, I head to the pawn shop where I hawked it. The owner, Dave, always wears baseball caps with his long dark hair pressed forward like a mop over both sides of his face and has a big chip cut out in a perfect semi-circle from his two front teeth, informs me someone already bought it last night! He smiled, sensing I wanted something. I thought about being covert, get him talking first, but his smile, when he smiles his teeth are frowning. It’s jarring. So, I asked him straight.

I told him I sold the DVD set by accident, that it wasn't mine to sell. He needs to tell me who bought it so I can buy it back or my ex-wife will hate me more than she already does. He laughed, called me an idiot, then, smile frowning in his unique way, tells me Glenne bought it. No mention of privacy law, gotta love small towns. Then he proceeds to tell me Glenne is the town’s ideas man; he tells me where he lives, where he hangs out, that he buys his morning coffee at the diner before he goes anywhere and that’s where I’m most likely to find him right now.

So, I go to the diner, but he isn't there. I slide into a bench seat, ordered a pie and coffee, which when you come visit, you gotta try. People talk about pie in small towns, it's a cliche, I know, but it's amazing. I've never even heard of saskatoon berries before, but they make amazing pie.

Anyway, Glenne wanders in around 10 am. I get up to go to the bathroom and bump into him, gently, accidentally, real cool like and I says to him: Oh, pardon me… Glenne? It’s Glenne right? Nice to meet you. I'll come say hi in a sec, I'm just heading to the loo for a squirt.

I get back, sit across from him and notice he’s short, thin, but his face is oddly pudgy, especially his cheeks which glow red. It makes his dark pencil moustache really pop off his face under his dark bowl cut, it all makes his head look much bigger than it really is. He orders pie of course, and… coffee.

While waiting, like we’ve known each other our entire lives, he fills me in on his plan to roast his own coffee. For the past week he’s been talking to Peg about her coffee: how much per pound, shipping times, is it tasty enough? After “researching” things online he’s ordered some bulk beans and has already made a few batches. At no point does he reveal any intention to sell this coffee anywhere else, not in the neighbouring town, not on the internet, or anywhere else——only for Peg’s diner. To me, it sounds like he’s spent maybe 15 minutes considering this plan before committing to it.

I was really enjoying listening to this guy talk and forgot to bring up the DVD set before he asked me: why don’t you come over and help me roast a batch? I say sure, why not, I've got the day off, so we head over to his place.

He lives in one of those blocky, short stout little apartments, it’s charming, frozen in time with original awnings, creaky old wooden stairs up the middle, four suites per floor——super basic. Stepping inside his place felt like rolling out of bed, after the worst possible sleep, and splashing a pool of fresh java. It smelled just incredible. Leaning in a line against the coffee table in his living room were several huge bags of green coffee in burlap sacks. The big oak coffee table was covered with all kinds of stuff: books, magazines, stains, spills, empty plates, crumbs of food. It has a shelf underneath, where several baking trays and an oversized box of parchment paper, with a jagged ripped tongue of parchment licking out the side. There's a sauce pan with a handle he says he uses to scoop up beans, and there, nearest to the TV is the DVD box set of Freaks and Geeks.

I ask Glenne if he's watched Freaks and Geeks yet. He says he's about three shows in and loving it. I cut to the chase and ask if I can buy it off him. He says no. I ask how much he paid for it. Fifty bucks. I say Glenne, why not double your money? Sell it to me for 100$. He says, well… it’s not about the money, when I'm done with it, maybe, but I really want to watch the whole thing first. It’s a good show.

Then I come clean with him. I tell him about the box set, the ex-wife, how I pawned it in a moment of weakness. I explain how the universe is clearly trying to punish me, and I ask him nicely to take pity on me. Though, honestly, this is all my doing.

He tilted his head, stroked his little pencil moustache from the middle out before he says, I’ve got a solution. Why don't you stay here and help me roast all these beans today and we'll binge watch the whole series. When were done, you can have it back——for free.

I like this plan. I can honestly tell Gloria I watched the whole thing, ready to pass any quiz she might spring on me. I had the time, costs me nothing, what could go wrong? So, I agreed.

I found a spot in the middle of his oversized couch, sinking deep into the spongy cushions upholstered in black velvet and red flowers. He popped in disc two, getting the story going where he left off. Then he showed me how to layout the beans on the trays. We spread them evenly over the parchment paper while watching Lindsey help Danny cheat on his math test. Then we put the trays in the oven. He has a couple extra shelves for his oven, not sure where he found those, but it's packed with beans in there. He set a timer, and we watched a little more TV.

While watching and waiting, he offers me a coffee, to taste his beans. I say sure. He makes a pot. Then he pulls out a pen and pad ready to take notes. Swish it around in your mouth and describe the flavour profile, he says. But before I finish tasting the first mouthful, he drops the note pad and dashes off to the kitchen. Shouting, he says, it tastes different in a French press. I watch Lindsey’s math teacher confront Lindsey, who seems willing to do anything for this loser Daniel, which I can’t help notice is my name. He comes back with a second cup, then tops up my first cup with the pot of drip in his other hand. One has a slightly more chocolate flavour, which I genuinely like. He takes more notes. Before I finish either cup, he disappears, bangs around in the kitchen, and comes back setting down a third cup, spilling a little over the side. It’s from an Italian coffee maker, which he sets down on a brown and burnt hard cover copy of the Wealthy Barber, in case we need more. How does it taste? It should have more of the natural oils… That one is good too I said; it has a nutty flavour and a milky texture. He takes more notes.

Each batch is roasted for different lengths of time, he tells me. Plus one minute, minus one, plus two, 10 degrees less heat, and so forth. Each procedure is a slight deviation of what he feels is the best possible medium roast, which——for this style of smaller, high-altitude bean——he’s figured out already. But for days he’s been drinking so much coffee, now he’s not sure which roast he likes best anymore. He's sampled too much in too short a time and no longer trusts his own taste buds. Then the timer goes.

We put on oven mitts, each grabbing two trays of beans, which crackle softly and smell amazing. We take them to the dining room, where he’s already prepared his big oval shaped table with long wide strips cut from cardboard and fastened with green tape to the sides of his table. They act as bumpers to make sure the beans don’t fall off. It’s ugly, but completely functional. We tip the trays and none of the hot beans fall off the table. Glenne tells me the beans must cool off quickly, and we need to stir them constantly to prevent any residual moisture, or condensation, spoiling the beans once in storage. So, with our oven mitts on we stir until another timer goes off. That signals 10 minutes of cooling time.

Meanwhile, the show is playing in the living room, and we can see the TV fine while we stir. Though, we had to adjust the volume a little to hear over the beans rolling around on the table. Lindsey almost gets into trouble for cheating, even though she’s a straight A student, her parents are called in, it’s looking like this young intelligent girl with so much potential is about to have her life flushed, but then Danny comes clean and takes all the blame. It's actually a pretty good show, and I think Leah would really like it, she just that age. I make a point, mentally, to share this insight with Gloria.

We get started on another batch, four more trays of beans. Before long we sink into a rhythm of testing coffee made with different types of coffee makers, roasted for various lengths of time, watching Freaks and Geeks, pulling beans out of the oven, stirring them on the dining room table, watching another episode of Freaks and Geeks… At some point, I notice I am getting absolutely buzzed on coffee.

Around 11:45am he says we should wind things down for lunch. We carefully make sure the oven is empty, that the table beans are adequately cooled, and we put the whole batch into twenty zip lock bags on shelves in his mother's China cabinet. Do you still live with your mother, I ask, is she here? No, he explains it’s his mother’s China cabinet because her ashes are in there, for now. She died last winter, and he’s waiting to find a special place to put her. Makes sense.

The bags were left open on shelves below his mother, with the doors open, to make sure they could breathe and keep moisture out. He says he has some proper coffee bags on order, but they haven't arrived. Once we’d cleaned up a bit, we walk over to Peg's diner for a burger.

I was having the best time with my new friend, Glenne. While we ate, he told me of at least a half dozen other ventures he's tried to launch and all the obstacles that inevitably get in his way. He's talking so fast. I'm listening so hard. I can't stop listening to him. Everything he's saying is the most amazing thing I've ever heard.

The burgers arrive, and while I ate mine, he let his sit and launched into a story about an idea he had to help local farmers using Air BnB. He wanted to find a way city folk could experience the bucolic splendor of farm life. That's how he put it: bucolic splendor! He's some kind of marketing savant. He posted these ads online and worked out a deal with a local poultry farm to take in city folk; in exchange, they would get free labour. He kept 100% of the booking fees. The city folk apparently really loved the location and didn't mind the work either, but the reviews kept complaining about the horrible farm smells.

I guess poultry farms are particularly putrid. Watching his score plummeting with each booking, he experimented with perfumes and air fresheners, but it required such quantities it quickly became financially unfeasible. The farmer immediately threw them all out when he found them. Plus, it made it twice as hard to breathe anyway… it was a bad idea, he confessed. Imagine navigating through the center of a big city department store, these are his words, between the lonely attendants stranded on islands of display cases. Then he said, take all those competing perfume samples and concentrate them into a broom closet just big enough to sleep in, but instead of brooms lining the walls there’s long dead roadkill hanging from hooks. It smells as bad as you think, but most people forget to imagine that sharp stinging sensation in the nostrils that makes your eyes water. Now try and operate a hotel in the middle of all that where the guests do all the work. Allot of reviews said they came home vegetarian.

Anyway, after we finished eating, Glenne paid the bill and got Peg all excited about the beans. Then we went back to his place to start roasting another batch and watch more TV. Lindsey rejoins the Mathletes and yet, manages to keep her cool friends. Again, I can't help but think Leah would really benefit from seeing this show. It explains lots of weird high school stuff in a nice morally appropriate——but cool——way. I think I’m even starting to understand my ex-wife a little better, she was always much smarter than me. You are too! Let’s be honest, everyone is… It really is a good show.

We kept roasting, sampling, drying, watching TV and repeating this cycle well into the night. Glenne was so happy. All his coffee was ready to go, premeasured and portioned, ready to go straight into the fancy bags when they arrive. I was honestly having the most fun I’ve had in years.

We had one more DVD to get through before we'd finished the whole show. It's pitch-black outside. I have no idea what time it is. I'm shaking uncontrollably from drinking dozens upon dozens of cups of coffee. Glenne's gleefully vibrating, gesticulating, talking, spilling coffee, totally ecstatic. We landed on three more unique flavour profiles——from the same bean——by varying the roasting time.

It was probably 1:30 in the morning. We were both sitting on the couch watching the final episode of Freaks and Geeks, when Lindsey lies to her parents to go on a grateful dead road trip. It was around this time I start thinking I don’t want Leah to watch this show at all. Then, I must have fallen asleep. I don’t know exactly when, but I passed out. Glenne must have crashed just as hard because when I woke up, his living room was full of smoke!

He was hunched over the side of the big oak arm rest, index finger through the loop of a cold cup of coffee tilted sideways over a pool of moisture that dulled bright red flowers of his velvet couch cushions. I shook him violently and he sprang to life, shouting: Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! What’s going on!

We scrambled into the kitchen to find the oven door ajar but wide enough to see inside where fire condensed like a fog an inch above the trays of charcoal-coloured beans. Flames lashed out of the gap, reaching for the once coffee-soaked dish towel Glenne thoughtfully left spread across the range to soak up a slight spill of brewed coffee; it was now on fire. The cereal box on the counter next to the towel was a disassembled pile of rectangular ash, still glowing red at the edges. The lacquer on the cabinet above bubbled and sizzled loudly under bright yellow flames, while bitter stinking rivers of rolling dark smoke flooded the ceiling.

I yelled at Glenne, where is your fire extinguisher? He said he didn’t have one. Where’s your smoke detector? He said he didn’t have one. I order him to wake up his neighbours and get everyone out. He pulled his T-shirt up over his nose, for protection, and dashed into the hall. I went to grab the last disc of Freaks and Geeks from the DVD player, and pressed the eject button. I heard it make a weird grinding sound, like it was thinking; I heard it over the crackle of an out-of-control apartment fire, and it felt like hours before it finally opened. Then I properly put the disc in the box set, label facing out, and stuffed the box under my shirt. I took another quick second to tuck my shirt in to my pants so it wouldn’t fall out. I felt stupid for doing this, but I did not want to deal with Gloria’s wrath at any price.

I was about to dash for the door but remembered Glenne’s dead mother was in the cabinet; so, I grab her too. Like the beans, she was in a Ziplock leaning against a gilt framed caricature of her on what looked like the Vegas Strip in front of the fountains at the Bellagio holding a martini glass. Can’t drop her either, so I stuff her down my shirt, over the collar.

I knocked on every door yelling fire on my way out, noticed a fire extinguisher by the mailboxes, too little too late, and everyone was already safe and accounted for outside——thanks to super caffeinated Glenne.

Outside, safely across the street, vibrating, Glenne and I stood looking at each other, then not, then looking again, then not, then again, both of us knowing this was pretty much all our fault.

I told him, Hey! We should put out the fire! We can do it! I quickly explained the plan: he’s nodding non-stop while saying yup, yup, yup, between every word. I saw a fire extinguisher in the front lobby, next to the mailbox and there’s probably one at the back door too. We can both run in, grab the extinguishers, maybe keep the fire from spreading until the fire department gets here. As long as we run really really fast, we shouldn’t catch fire. Yup, Yup, Yup…

With our shirts pulled up over our noses, we run in. Nothing is going to happen to our noses while we run into this fire. Glenne dashes straight through to the back door; I grab the extinguisher at the front and we meet up stairs. I sprayed the fire extinguisher at his door even though it wasn’t on fire, to… I don’t know, keep it cool? He did the exact same to his neighbours’ door, also not on fire. Despite our effort, there’s so much smoke pouring out from under his door, from the gap on all sides. The fire must have engulfed his entire apartment.

I yelled at him to get out before we choke to death, but he hears the neighbour's cat inside and points. I kicked down the door. He runs straight in, but the cat is right there at my feet… Glenne ran right past! I yelled, Hey! I’ve got the cat! Then he follows me downstairs and outside. I hand the cat to a woman crying wildly in a housecoat, and she thanked me repeatedly. The crowd cheered. God it was awful. They probably think we’re too modest to accept praise, which makes it so much worse!

Standing outside, looking up, buzzing like insect wings, under the light of a raging roof fire that kept growing until the curious flood of onlookers was lit as bright as day. In the corner of our eyes, we looked at each other, trying not to snigger every time someone in the crowd commented how amazing the fire smelt. I asked him if he told anyone else in his building about what he was up to with the coffee. He said no, only Peg. Do not, I said with emphasis, tell anyone about your coffee business.

After watching the fire department set up for a spell, I was starting to get uncomfortably hot. I gave him back his dead mother and said he can stay at my place tonight. He said she wasn’t all there. I said what do you mean, did she have Alzheimer’s or something? No, only that the bag was half empty. I asked him why she was in a ziplock anyway, and he said he was waiting for something special to keep her in. I didn’t have the heart to joke about it, but I could feel something itching in my groin, but he saw me scratching, so he knows.

The next afternoon, after a shift at the hardware store, I managed to return the DVD set to Gloria. When I came to take Leah to her swimming lessons, while standing in the open doorway, Gloria showed me a few images that came up in her feed. Glenne and I were there, at an upward angle and over my shoulder was Glenne with a look of triumph on his face. I was biting my lip with closed eyes looking a little disgusted with the cat drooping down ahead of me, its front legs stabbing forward out of frame, fire everywhere behind us. It was a great shot, I just looked stupid in it. The caption read “Local Residents Risk Everything to Save Cat”. We had heroically gotten everyone out of the building, beat back the flames with the extinguishers until help arrived, and made sure all residents were accounted for. You’re a hero now, she said, with only a faint smirk, the whole town is talking about it.

Can I look at that, I said, while handing Gloria the box set. She looked at it carefully while I read a few blurbs on her feed. The fire department had made a statement already, determined the wiring in the wall behind the oven had shorted out. She rubbed a darkish gray film off the cover, then took several deep whiffs, while eyeing me up, saying: what is this, dirt? Ash? She slid the sleeve off and inspected it further. Then she asked me why the whole thing smells like burnt coffee. I kept reading. There was no mention of Glenne running the oven at 550 degrees for 16 hours without interruption, or how the huge current draw melted the sleeves off the wires. Were those coffee grounds inside, she asked. I said, partially? I'm doing everything I can not to show what I'm thinking: it might be the missing portion of Glenne’s mother. I confess there might be a dash of spilt coffee on the sleeve, but I wiped it off quickly before it could stain. The rest is… toast. It should play fine, after all, I just binge-watched it.

It would be good if she watched Freaks and Geeks with Leah, I said. It had a lot of good moral lessons, stuff I didn’t appreciate when we first watched it together. Turns out that’s why she wanted it back. That may have been the first time we ever agreed about how to raise our daughter. I told her not to let her watch the last episode. Lose it before then. Leah pushed past us toward the car; I turned to follow, but over my shoulder I said, Daniel still sucks, he should have been nicer to Lindsay, and that was goodbye.

Do you still think I’m a good person?
~
END