A Day in the Life of Buster Bupkin

A Day in the Life of Buster Bupkin

There was a repeating knocking sound. Buster rolled in bed. At first,
he wasn't sure whether he was trying to fall asleep or wake up. He
looked at the clock. Eleven thirty. He was waking up. The knocking
sound continued. It was just loud enough to keep him from falling
asleep. Eleven thirty one. Buster had a job in an hour. He had to get
ready.

He got out of bed and walked into the kitchen of his one bedroom
apartment. He walked to the coffee machine, dumped out the old grinds,
put new ones in, poured in two cups of water, hit the red button, and
waited. He watched the clock on the coffee pot as he waited. Time
always went the slowest when Buster was waiting for his coffee. He
opened a white cabinet and took out a mug. He looked at the clock on
the coffee maker. Eleven thirty seven. He stared at the numbers. When
the coffee was done, he poured himself a cup. He drank from it. It
burnt the inside of his mouth but he was used to it. He finished the
cup and was ready to take his shower.

Several thoughts went through Buster's mind as he went through his
morning routine. He though maybe he was falling in love with that girl.
He didn't remember her name. Jane, that was it. He didn't remember her
last name, though. And he didn't remember what she looked like. That's
how he knew he was falling in love. Whenever he couldn't remember what
a girl looked like, he was falling in love with her. Eventually he'd
see her so much that he wouldn't be able to get her face out of his
mind.

Buster knew he wouldn't be able to tell her what he did for a living.
Once he told her, that would be the end. No more relationship, no
matter how deep or surface. He wasn't sure whether he was ready for his
job that day. He had to be alert, so they wouldn't get the best of him.
He always had to be on guard. Tough, but not aggressive. Always wait
for them to make the first move. He took a shower and brushed his
teeth. Then, he looked in the mirror. Muscular build. White t-shirt.
Five o'clock shadow and a brown buzz cut. A tough son of a bitch.

Buster threw some clothes on, picked up his bag, and walked towards the
front door. He noticed his plant in the white planter. It was dead.
Brown and shriveled. A good summary of Buster's life. He wasn't happy
with what he'd become. And he knew that girl wouldn't be happy if she
found out. He had to keep it a secret.

Buster walked through the front door. On his way to his car, he walked
by a fireman who was carrying a black cat. "Is this yours?" the fireman
asked. "I found it in a tree up the street."

"Not mine," Buster replied. The fireman nodded and walked in front of
Buster, holding the black cat. Buster shrugged and walked to his car.
It was a beat up white Sedan. Buster threw his bag in the trunk, got in
the car, and started the engine. He opened the glove compartment and
saw a nine millimeter pistol lying inside. Just had to make sure it was
there. He closed the glove compartment and pulled out of his parking
spot. On his way to the job, he drove under the outstretched ladder of
a fire truck.

Buster eventually stopped in front of an old row house. It was the end
row house. Good thing. Lots of windows in case Buster had to make a
quick escape. He got out of the car, opened the trunk, and took out his
bag. He left his gun in the glove compartment. He walked to the front
door of the row house and knocked. The door opened, revealing a young
woman. She looked at Buster with a frightened expression. Buster
figured it was because of his appearance. "Come in," she said
softly.

"Whisper," Buster whispered. "I don't want them to know that I'm here."
The woman nodded. "I need to change real quick. Can you show me to the
bathroom?" The woman nodded and led Buster to a closed door. Buster
entered the bathroom with his bag.

The door flung open and Buster jumped into the room, wearing big shoes,
a colorful costume, white makeup on his face, a big red nose, and a
rainbow wig. A room full of kids looked at him with surprised
expressions. "It's me!" he blurted in a ridiculous voice. "Bongo the
Clown! Who's the birthday boy?"