Heroes.
They come in all shapes and sizes. They can look like fire fighters or police officers, or soldiers or teachers or quarterbacks.
Or they can look like five-foot seven studs with curly hair who go around saving lives. Seems like those are the best kind but that's just my opinion, you're free to your own. Let me set the scene.
When Balki and I burst into the front door of the Ritz, Twinkie was reading a porno called "Motorcycle Maidens," right behind the front desk.
I'm not making this up.
You might think he was putting on a little passive-aggressive display toward Balki and I, suggesting that since he was alone in the store while we were supposed to be working that, "hey, might as well flip through a hobby specific spank mag since I'm the only one here;" but in fact he had just been going through the mail and found the dirty magazine - delivered to the store mind you, odds are under Balki's name - and started thumbing through it because there are no rules our accountability or customers at the Ritz at all. It's really not a bad job.
He tried to ride us for being forty seconds late, but we were just kind of like "pshhhh, child's play, wait until our lunch break and see what late looks like." Balki launched into the story of how I'd just saved his life. I tried to tell him it was no big deal, and I actually meant it; at this point saving Balki's life has become part of my day-to-day routine, he just doesn't know it.I can't even count the number of times Balki has almost electrocuted himself, or fallen off a bridge, or angered a Chicagoan of color. He just wanders blithely through life, dodging anvils that always seem to land on his poor cousin. I actually had to list him on my insurance policy in the section marked "other risks."
But I digress.
Balki told Twinkie I'd saved his life and Twinkie looked sad, then asked "Why?" I would have asked him the same thing if the situation were reversed. I think Balki has turned us into sociopaths? So what had happened that morning was Balki strolled into the street without looking like he always does, and a taxi came barreling down on him, and I pushed him out of the way. If I'm being totally honest, there was also a bus coming in the other direction that I was trying to push Balki into, but coincidentally I'd saved him from what he described as a "runaway taxi" driving down the street he had been jaywalking in.
Balki was blowing the whole thing out of proportion, saying I'd risked my life to save another, and on Mypos I'd be considered a great man. Twinkie pointed out that "In America, he's still considered a jerk." Touche. Balki told me not to listen to him, and that I'm a hero.
"For what?" I said cooly. "For running out into the street and throwing my body between you and certain death?" I shrugged, and grinned. I could feel that dangerous throbbing sense of self aggrandizement - my favorite drug - pulsing through my veins. "Well, maybe a small hero." Free lesson: always downplay your heroics. That's the hero's code.
Balki wouldn't drop it. He told me that in Mypos if someone did what I just did, he is no longer a regular person. He is lifted up into something called "Primo Dopolos?" I wondered if such status would also get me "primo laid," and started thinking quietly whether Balki and I should plan a trip to Mypos where I could stage another rescue. Meanwhile I went back to getting the store ready to open while Balki blathered on about how he's only a "lowly sheepherder." I didn't say anything, but Balki's actually considerably below a lowly sheepherder. That's not his job anymore. At least a sheepherder protects sheep. Here in the States all Balki protects is America's superiority complex.
He then laid down on the floor on his back in some kind of weird sexually submissive yoga pose and said he was basking in my glory. I dragged him to his feet as he completely melted down, tears streaming from his eyes as he insisted on basking. This was going to get weird.
Holy shit I forgot you guys, Susan is back! I just assumed Balki had killed her! She came down for dinner, and was deeply impressed with the meal Balki cooked to thank me for saving his life (I have to admit, I can get used to saying that). Susan thought it was sweet how Balki was kissing my ass all of a sudden, and I went on to explain that it's mostly annoying because all of the rules they have on Mypos for this kind of thing. For instance, Balki's head can never be higher than mine. How she didn't notice this during dinner I don't know, but it's Susan, she sucks.
However.
Susan kissed me on the cheek on the way out the door, grabbed my arm and called me a hero. I have no idea what my relationship with Susan is, but this had never happened before. Being a hero could totally score me tail.
That switch in my head flipped, and as Susan left the apartment I started peacocking around, bragging to myself about how badass I was. "If he wants to serve me, who am I to complain?" I wondered aloud. "Who am I to stand in the way of his culture?" I sat on the couch with a good book just as Balki emerged from my bedroom at end of the hall.
SIDEBAR - My bedroom used to be the door right off the living room. So I've always had two bedrooms in this apartment, and I switched to the other one at some point but have never offered Balki the empty room, instead forcing him to sleep on the couch. I'm hilarious!
Anyway Balki came out of my room with his arms full. He crabwalked across the floor to stay beneath me while delivering my robe and slippers. Nice. Of course he had ironed the slippers and ruined them.
I told him to piss off while I read my book. He tried to hold the lamp inches from my face for light, and then to turn the pages himself. I told him I wanted to finish the book before bed, and so he promptly spoiled the ending for me (when did Balki learn to read?)
I lost my shit. I demanded he stand up straight and leave me alone so I could watch TV. Balki all passive-aggressively went into the kitchen and started screwing with the mixer so I couldn't hear the shoot-em-up Western I was trying to watch, and said he was making my lunch for tomorrow - something called "Sheep Wellington." It looked like white puke. I asked him how long I was going to have to put up with this "Primo Dopolos" business, and he said that word that terrifies me whenever I think of my future with Balki: "Forever."
I had fallen asleep on the couch, which in our apartment made me bait. Balki has thus far not wandered into my sleeping quarters while I'm in there, but if we're in our shared space it's anything goes. He tied my foot to the end table - apparently so I "couldn't walk in my sleep and fall out the window" - and started checking my breathing. For whatever reason Balki had decided I had died, so he pulled my eyelids open. Not the most fun way to wake up from a nap, kids. I got up to storm off, and Balki didn't bother to tell me I'd been shackled to the end table. I fell. In a nice little surprise, the lamp did not break - we go through one of those almost every week around here. I told him his over protective bullshit had to end.
The next morning I stormed into the Ritz two hours late, and right pissed off about it. Balki had crept into my room in the night and turned off my alarm clock so I could sleep. I told Balki I'd never been late in my life, although reading back on this entry I now realize I was literally late the previous morning, and I see from other entries that I have often skipped out of work altogether for days at a time. Not important right now. Right now Balki had disconnected my alarm clock, making me late for work, which no one seemed to have noticed or cared about. I'm not sure why I was mad, but it was probably because he'd come in my room while I was sleeping.
There's no safe place from him anywhere anymore.
Twinkie burst out of his office and told me he was docking me two hours pay, which is also a first. What the hell was going on? Since when has he cared about clock management? I sucked it up like a champ though. Balki offered to let Twinkie take three dollars out of his salary instead (do I only make a buck-fifty an hour?) and Twinkie told him that was his whole salary. That is phenomenally sad. Balki makes less money at the Ritz than homeless people do panhandling.
I softened up on him and told him I was just going to quit being Primo Dopolos, but he said that I couldn't. I lost my temper. I overcorrected. I told Balki he couldn't serve me any more, on order of the Primo Dopolos himself.
Balki said he was a disgrace and a failure, and on Mypos he would be beaten to death with sticks and stones for failing the Primo Dopolos. I got an instant half-chub at the thought.
Balki stuffed a sack over his head to hide his shame, and started making a big show of sweeping the floor blindfolded while singing "nobody knows the trouble I've seen." I should have seen this coming a mile away. Balki had actually made my saving his life about him, and - like always - bullied me into an apology. Once again, I would have to massage Balki's fragile frigging ego and nurse him out of his latest public display of selfish, needy, self-pitying depression.
Or as we call it around here, "Wednesday."
He committed to the part. Hours passed, and Balki was still wearing the bag on his head while he worked. Twinkie and I were legitimately impressed with how efficiently he was able to work from under the bag. Twinkie sent him to the basement to sort pants because he was creeping out the customers (note - the store has been empty for weeks) - and said that it wasn't even fun to push Balki around anymore. Then he came up with the best idea I'd heard in forever.
I should attempt suicide.
Twinkie thought that if Balki were to save me, he would call us even and forget about the whole thing. I asked what would happen if Balki didn't save me, and Twinkie said "either way, your problems are solved." It made a startling amount of sense. I had considered ending it all several times since Balki arrived, but I always figured I'd at least take him with me. Twinkie then suggested I could hire his friend, an actor, to break into the apartment so I could scare him off. I laughed in Twinkie's face, even though for the first time ever he was just honestly trying to help me out of a jam. Just then Balki entered, still blindfolded, and spilled several gallons of oil all over the floor.
I threw Twinkie a Ulysses and told him to have his friend come before midnight.
What I didn't know is that Twinkie called his friend and found out he was out of town and couldn't do the job, so he just pocketed my money and carried on living his life. You probably know where this is going.
It was late. I'd been up waiting all night for Twinkie's buddy to show. I was pissed. And then a real robber appeared on the fire escape and let himself in. He opened the window and strolled past Balki, who was sleeping on the couch with the bag over his head, and started cleaning us out. I assumed this was the guy, but it turns out it was just a hilarious and life threatening coincidence. I stormed down the hall to confront him.
By the way, knowing what I know now, what are the odds? Wait, HOW OFTEN DOES THIS HAPPEN? Do people crawl in that window every night?
I started giving the guy shit about how he was supposed to wake Balki up and give him a scare, then threaten me and let Balki chase him off. The dangerous criminal was understandably confused, but heard me out, which I appreciated. He went back to robbing us as I ran to wake Balki up and put on a King Lear quality performance, telling Balki I was terrified and "if only someone brave would leap to my defense!" I told Balki he could save us, and Balki pointed out that the man had a gun.
Sure enough, the burglar was pointing a gun at both of us. I told him he wasn't supposed to have a gun, and it dawned on me that the guy was just legitimately robbing us.
Whether he is a friend of Twinkacetti's too, I still do not know.
I panicked and started rambling. The burglar got hot and pushed me. Balki got pissed and told him he couldn't do that to Cousin Larry. The burglar shoved me again. Balki - who was hiding behind me - kept talking tougher and tougher while the burglar kept shoving me. Then Balki casually took the gun from the robber, and I remembered exactly how dangerous Balki is. He started slapping the guy around and yelling at him in Myposian - which, I'll remind you, sounds like a really offensive impression of Chinese. He instructed me to call the police. I bravely ran to the window and crawled out onto the fire escape, screaming for the cops as loud as I could.
So it turned out Balki actually did save my life. We went to the police department, where the cops fingerprinted him and put him in a police lineup - which was a really impressive show of forward thinking policework on their part, those fingerprints will come in handy when they're dusting them off my lifeless body. We went home. Balki tried to keep kissing my ass and I told him we were even. We admitted we care about each other and called it a night.
And I had the most beautiful dream. I dreamed we were back on the street, and I saw the taxi coming. And instead of rushing to save Balki, I just smiled, and I waved, and I told Balki to save me a seat in hell.
