V20 N22

Undertow
Terry O’Brien’s legendary column... social satire, shameless plugs — and general self-indulgence
Leftover Whining of the Week: First,
this will be my third or fourth time
congratulating the Exit Zero crew
on the opening of Ferry Station, the
third and final nail in Jack Wright’s
coffi… I mean, the third and final jewel in Jack
Wright’s Infinity Gauntlet (Ferry Park), so
enough of that sentimental horse hockey ( yes,
I’m old enough to make Col. Henry Potter references).
Turns out one column was woefully
short to list all my grievances, so here is Week
Two of Things That Annoyed Me Last Week.
Cute as she is, I was getting a little
tired of seeing DeSatnick Realty receptionist
Abby Nagel every time I turned around.
Thursday mornings dropping of Exit Zero at
their Villas office, thrice in their Cape May
office on Cool Cape May delivery day because
a math error had me dropping off, picking up,
then re-dropping off dozens of 33 lb. boxes.
Cute AND nice. When all I wanted to do was
sweat and curse. Worst of all? I was going
to make an Abby Nagel/Abby Normal joke
but she’s probably too young to get it. These
kids today… (Young Frankenstein, Abby, it’s
a Young Frankenstein joke. Just… Google it.)
Passive-aggressive Plastic Bag of the
Week: I became intimately educated on the
care and feeding of paint roller brushes while
coating the floors and walls of Ferry Station
with various substances. As in, if you plan
on reusing one the following day, you need
to cover it with a plastic bag. Which I did. But
apparently not well enough, as I found my
loose, throw-it-on-there bag wound up and
tightened around the handle in a very hostile
manner. By, I suspect, a much more experi-
enced painter who viewed my more lackadaisical
bagging as akin to kicking his dog. (This
is a Mike DeMusz joke. If you know Mike, this
is pretty funny. If you don’t know Mike, well,
at least it only took 10 seconds to read that
paragraph.)
Also, save up on your plastic bags, kids.
They’ll be worth real money one day. Like my
19 Von Hayes Rookie Cards.
A week after Ferry Station opened, I was
on break between sets (for the uninitiated,
I am the best singer in town as long as you
don’t hear any other singers on Fridays and
Saturdays at Exit Zero and Mondays and
Tuesdays at Ferry Station) and there, at the
end of the long terminal entryway, sat a yellow
mop bucket. Mocking me. I could almost hear
it laughing as sharp violin music crescendo…
sorry, I was just a little triggered. I mopped
that floor several dozen times. It was like running
into Freddy Krueger or Michael Myers.
(I promise, I’ve watched movies and listened
to music made after 1985, but new stuff just
isn’t as good.)
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July 7, 2022 EXIT ZERO Page 19