The Rim Job


“You can call me DJ Khaled because right now I’m on one” Drake says to me.

I hate sitting in the campus library because on the second floor it seems like talking isn’t just allowed it’s encouraged.  Subsequently, people take it upon themselves to invite everyone within earshot to engage in their conversations.  No invite is necessary and apparently it doesn’t matter if you even know them or not because students are just as cavalier in their discussions with people they don’t know as they are with people they do.

It’s me, Daryl and Drake in the library.  I’m the least imposing of the three figures as I stand a rather meager five feet nine inches tall (5’10” on my better days or so people tell me.)  None of this matters of course because Drake and I are sitting down, only Daryl stands.  I’m reading something about beer and gender for my history of beer class (yes, I get to go to a class that is devoted entirely to beer.)  Drake is perusing some social media site on the tubes and Daryl is standing over his shoulder laughing while listening to his iPod.  I tap my pencil on the bookshelf next to me when it occurs to me that these bookshelves are not filled with books but video games.  I glance up from my reading and stare at the shelves like I’m expecting them to turn into Transformers or something.

“Yo dude, he’s got naked lady pictures on his phone,” Daryl whispers to me.

“Drake?”  I ask.

“No, man, that guy behind you,” Daryl says.  Drake stands up and looks over my shoulder. His eyebrows pin up and I can tell that there must be some sort of truth in Daryl’s assertion and I thus turn around in as undramatic fashion as this situation permits.  I try to casually glance at the man seated behind me, but there is no way to do this because his chair is to the back of mine.  Daryl elbows me gently in the stomach.

“What the fuck, man?”  I ask as Daryl puts his hand over his mouth to stop himself from laughing obnoxiously.  I get up out of my chair and sure enough, the guy seated behind me is looking at some sort of porn on his cell phone.  Drake just shakes his head and goes back to his computer, but Daryl and I stare at this guy until he notices that there are two grown men who are just a little creeped out by what he’s doing.  He looks back at us and we, like any other adult male tries to do in similar circumstances, try to look like we had no idea what he was doing and generally try and fein ignorance of the whole situation.  The man slowly descends in his chair until his head is barely visible to me or anyone else but he doesn’t log off the website.  He just sits there and continues to check out the porn site.

“Some people,” Daryl says as Drake breaks out laughing.  Daryl and I look over at him as he bends the screen of his laptop down to the keyboard.

“You are not going to believe the shit my boss just sent me,” Drake says.

Drake is some sort of communications consultant for a PR firm or something.  On most days I’m fairly certain that even he feels as if he lacks sufficient detail about what he does for a living.  Drake pulls his chair up next to me and motions for Daryl to take his iPod earbuds out of his ears.  Daryl moves over in between Drake and I as it looks like we’re in a huddle in the middle of a football game.

“I would normally describe this as unbelievable, but knowing what I know and knowing who I know nothing is really unbelievable anymore,” Drake says.  Daryl and I have been through the rigamarole with Drake long enough to know when to tell him to speed up his stories and we quickly motion for him to do just that.

“What is it?”  I ask.

“You know Blackberry?”  He asks.

“I’ve had blackberries,” Daryl says laughing.

“I’m serious,” Drake says.  “You guys know what a Blackberry is?”

Daryl and I nod our heads.

“Well, Blackberries are made by a group called Research in Motion, right?”  Drake asks.

“I’ll take your word for it, man I ain’t got time to Google that shit,” Daryl says.  I nod my head in agreement because I tend to be the least rambunctious in the group.

“I’ve been put in charge of the rollout for the new Blackberry platform, it’s a long story,” he says.  “But, I’ve got to go to Canada, where they’re headquartered sometime next month and I’ve got to pick three guys to go with me.”

“Yo, we’ll go with you,” Daryl says, volunteering me for service I didn’t realize was even being offered my way.

“No, I can’t take you guys with me,” Drake says.

“Why not?’  Daryl asks.  “That sounds like it’d be fun.  You can smoke weed in Canada, can’t you?”

“That’s not the point,” Drake says as he begins to lose his cool with Daryl.  Daryl just keeps laughing knowing that he’s throwing Drake off his game.

“You ain’t on one anymore, are you?”  Daryl asks.  Drake, clearly frustrated just stares at Daryl with one of those death stares that no one wants to be on the other side of.  Daryl eventually subsides and lets Drake finish his story.

“Anyways, everybody wants to come with me because they figure: how many opportunities do you get to go to Canada?”  Drake says.  “But either everyone that I work with is a sexual neophyte or they’re some special class of moron because they keep sending me these e-mails.  You won’t believe what they put down as the subject heading.

Drake lifts up his laptop screen and the Outlook program is up and running on the screen. Daryl and I glance at the screen and start laughing hysterically.

“Alright, so it’s not just me then?”  Drake asks.

“No, that’s a special kind of somethin’,” Daryl says.  Daryl looks at the screen and says what we’ve been playing around with in our heads: “The Rim job?”  Daryl asks.

“Research in Motion, that’s the company that makes the Blackberry,” Drake says.  “But, I swear I’ve gotten at least one hundred e-mails asking me about the rim job.”

Drake scrolls down the page and clicks on an e-mail, widening it so we can read it.  Daryl and I slowly read the text of the e-mail and we just shake our heads laughing.

“I hope you’re thinking about the rim job as much as I am,” I say as I read the text of the e-mail aloud.  By this time we’ve created quite the commotion and nearly everyone within earshot is staring at us, but we don’t care.  The only guy who is put off by what’s going on is the guy who was sitting behind me who is making a b-line for the door.


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