Monday, October 10, 2005
CUPCAKES FOR BORDEN
Who doesn’t like cupcakes??
Beth says, “I really don’t trust a man who doesn’t like cupcakes…”
It was Saturday afternoon. Borden had said he would call me “soon,” but that was Monday. Now, normally, you would just write off someone who didn’t call you, but this was an emergency and no ordinary situation. We simply needed to confirm the identity of this man. Is he the Clint I met on the street? And if so, why did he tell me he was from Tennessee if he is not? And why is he not calling? We know for a fact that he is extremely intrigued by the story and does, in fact, want to meet me. So, why isn’t he calling? Is he just scared and unsure of what to say?
Well, by Saturday afternoon, Beth and I were going out of our minds trying to figure out what was going on and what we should do. Somehow, we had to prompt a phone call from him. But how could we do this? We were at Whole Foods eating lunch when this brilliant scheme was hatched…
“I’m about at the point I just want to drive straight down to his house,” I said. “What if we drove down there and left something at his house. When we left the balloons, he immediately emailed that very night.”
“True,” Beth replied. “We could leave more balloons. Halloween ones. Or a cake…or cookies or something. Wait…I’ve got it…cupcakes!!”
“Cupcakes?” I asked. “Why cupcakes?”
“Who doesn’t like cupcakes?” she replied. “And besides, cupcakes are funny.”
She had a point…that was true. Bizarre and outlandish behavior such as this might just get the man to call. If anything, to ask me why I had left cupcakes at his house.
So we drove to the Ralph’s on Magnolia Street…the same one, where more than four months earlier, I had purchased the balloons I left at his house and triggered our initial communication.
But while we were in there, we saw a tall skinny man with long brown hair…with his girlfriend…
Now, you have to understand…we do not know what Clint Borden looks like…only that he is tall and skinny with long brown hair…like the Clint I met last November on the street corner…Clint Borden may be the Clint I met…or he may not be…
So, now I’m in a panic…what if this is Clint Borden here at the Ralph’s a few blocks from his house buying dinner with his fucking girlfriend??? We cant’ very well drive down to his house and leave the cupcakes if this is him…
So, what the hell are we going to do…I’m panicking at this point…
“Allright…I say…we’ll wait until they leave the store and we’ll watch to see what kind of car they get into. We know he drives that pick-up and there were only two other cars in the driveway. We know what they look like.”
So, we get in line…and they get in another line…and fuck…it looks like they’re going to get through checking out before we will…
“Well, what are we supposed to do now?” I ask.
“Here, give me the cupcakes,” Beth says. “You go out to our car and fuck around with it…like you’re doing something with it…and that way you can see them when they leave.”
Well, five minutes pass…and Beth finally comes out…but where are they??? They haven’t left the store…now, I’m in even more of a panic…did I somehow miss then??? But I was sitting here watching the door the whole time…nobody came out…
“Did you see them in there?” I asked her.
“No, I don’t know where they are.”
“Well, we can’t go to Borden’s house if this is him. We have to know what kind of a car these people are driving. I’ll go back in the store. Maybe they got out of line to get something else at the last minute.” I said.
So, I go back in the store and sure enough…they’re in line. And they’re checking out about to leave the store…
So, I leave…and bam…I’m accosted by some man who wants me to sign a petition so every kid can go to preschool or some shit like that…a noble cause…but man, I’m on a mission…he’s going to make me miss seeing what car they get in…
So, now I’m signing this fucking petition…and now he’s got another one out…and I’m just like, “Look, dude, I’m in a really big hurry.” And he’s trying to get me to sign just one more, okay?
And I look around the parking lot…I see them nowhere…I’ve missed them…I turn around and bolt…
“Hey, wait!! Come back!!!” he’s shouting.
I get to Beth’s car. “Fuck.”
“What’s wrong?” she asks.
“I missed them. That fucking guy with the petitions…I missed them.”
“No, they totally got into a white Saturn. I saw them. It’s not Borden. We’re okay. It’s not him,” she replies.
A sigh of relief. I get in the car.
So, now we’re driving the five blocks to Borden’s house. You have to understand about this house…it’s at the end of a cul-de-sac…and there’s no traffic on this street. Especially at 8 at night. So, we decide that we’re going to drive down around the cul-de-sac, and that way, the car will be facing the right direction to get out of there quickly after we make the delivery. I write “For Clint” on a post-it note and stick it to the box of cupcakes. As we’re driving past the house and down into the cul-de-sac, Beth says, “I think there’s someone in there. I thought I saw someone walk past the door.”
We get the car turned around. “Okay, then,” I say. “I’m not going to go all the way up to the porch because that may be too risky and there may be a motion light. I’ll leave them on his truck.”
I open the door. Come around the side of our car and am almost at the foot of his driveway…
And I see him there in the door…staring at me…
Fuck…
Only it’s so dark…it’s only his silhouette…I see a tall skinny man…longish dark hair…but of course (because that would just be too easy)…I can’t see his face. But I’m standing here staring at Borden…who may or may not be the Clint we’re looking for…
And I panic…he starts to come out of the house…there’s no way I’m making it in time around to the passenger side of the car…so, I jump in the back seat…throw the cupcakes in and slam the door…
“Shit, shit, shit…go, go, go…he’s coming!!” I yell.
Beth guns it out of there…
Fuck…
So, now what??? He clearly didn’t see what I looked like because it was dark where I was as well. But I’m sure he saw my silhouette and my profile…and now he’s seen the car…and the man must be wondering “what in the hell is going on here?”
We have to go back with the cupcakes, though because we have to attempt to prompt the phone call…when? We can’t take Beth’s car so we decide we’ll go back with mine.
We decide that we will go the next afternoon. He likely will not be home and we decide it will probably look a lot less conspicuous in the daylight.
The next day, we leave the house with the cupcakes.
“I wonder how long it’s going to take him to call once he gets them?” I muse.
We get to the house and all the cars and the truck are still parked out in the driveway. Likely, someone is home. I tell Beth that she should just leave the cupcakes on the hood of his truck. It’s too risky to go all the way up to the porch.
We turn around in the cul-de-sac…I’ve got the “get-away” car positioned and ready…she jumps out and at a crouched run, runs up around the side of the truck. Cupcakes are in place…back to the car…and we’re out of here…
“I wonder how long before he calls. You know he’s going to know you did it,” Beth said.
We run several errands for the next hour or so before heading home. We get home…and I see I have one missed call…CLINT BORDEN…
Not only that…it is literally minutes after the cupcakes were delivered….
You know he wants to ask me about the cupcakes…but he doesn’t know how…he doesn’t want to sound stupid…he’s extremely nervous on the voice mail:
”Hi…Debbie…this is Clint…ummm…from North Hollywood…ummmm…I was just calling to see what you were ….ummmm….up to….ummmm….what you were doing. Give me a call back….ummmmm….talk to you soon, okay? Ummmmm….okay…bye…”
Yeah, the man’s nervous…
Well, it is literally 15 minutes before we have to go to band rehearsal…I’m nervous too…I don’t have the time to calm myself down and make this call before we have to leave…I promise Beth I will call him when we get home…
“You better not pussy out of this,” she says. “You’re going to call when we get home.”
It’s 9:30 before we get home. By the time I have downed a little wine and have prepped myself to make this call…it is 9:45…
I call…and he’s not home…so I leave a message…I want to see him this week…we should get a drink…call me back…
And that’s where things now stand…I hope you liked the cupcakes, Clint…
Who doesn’t like cupcakes??
Beth says, “I really don’t trust a man who doesn’t like cupcakes…”
It was Saturday afternoon. Borden had said he would call me “soon,” but that was Monday. Now, normally, you would just write off someone who didn’t call you, but this was an emergency and no ordinary situation. We simply needed to confirm the identity of this man. Is he the Clint I met on the street? And if so, why did he tell me he was from Tennessee if he is not? And why is he not calling? We know for a fact that he is extremely intrigued by the story and does, in fact, want to meet me. So, why isn’t he calling? Is he just scared and unsure of what to say?
Well, by Saturday afternoon, Beth and I were going out of our minds trying to figure out what was going on and what we should do. Somehow, we had to prompt a phone call from him. But how could we do this? We were at Whole Foods eating lunch when this brilliant scheme was hatched…
“I’m about at the point I just want to drive straight down to his house,” I said. “What if we drove down there and left something at his house. When we left the balloons, he immediately emailed that very night.”
“True,” Beth replied. “We could leave more balloons. Halloween ones. Or a cake…or cookies or something. Wait…I’ve got it…cupcakes!!”
“Cupcakes?” I asked. “Why cupcakes?”
“Who doesn’t like cupcakes?” she replied. “And besides, cupcakes are funny.”
She had a point…that was true. Bizarre and outlandish behavior such as this might just get the man to call. If anything, to ask me why I had left cupcakes at his house.
So we drove to the Ralph’s on Magnolia Street…the same one, where more than four months earlier, I had purchased the balloons I left at his house and triggered our initial communication.
But while we were in there, we saw a tall skinny man with long brown hair…with his girlfriend…
Now, you have to understand…we do not know what Clint Borden looks like…only that he is tall and skinny with long brown hair…like the Clint I met last November on the street corner…Clint Borden may be the Clint I met…or he may not be…
So, now I’m in a panic…what if this is Clint Borden here at the Ralph’s a few blocks from his house buying dinner with his fucking girlfriend??? We cant’ very well drive down to his house and leave the cupcakes if this is him…
So, what the hell are we going to do…I’m panicking at this point…
“Allright…I say…we’ll wait until they leave the store and we’ll watch to see what kind of car they get into. We know he drives that pick-up and there were only two other cars in the driveway. We know what they look like.”
So, we get in line…and they get in another line…and fuck…it looks like they’re going to get through checking out before we will…
“Well, what are we supposed to do now?” I ask.
“Here, give me the cupcakes,” Beth says. “You go out to our car and fuck around with it…like you’re doing something with it…and that way you can see them when they leave.”
Well, five minutes pass…and Beth finally comes out…but where are they??? They haven’t left the store…now, I’m in even more of a panic…did I somehow miss then??? But I was sitting here watching the door the whole time…nobody came out…
“Did you see them in there?” I asked her.
“No, I don’t know where they are.”
“Well, we can’t go to Borden’s house if this is him. We have to know what kind of a car these people are driving. I’ll go back in the store. Maybe they got out of line to get something else at the last minute.” I said.
So, I go back in the store and sure enough…they’re in line. And they’re checking out about to leave the store…
So, I leave…and bam…I’m accosted by some man who wants me to sign a petition so every kid can go to preschool or some shit like that…a noble cause…but man, I’m on a mission…he’s going to make me miss seeing what car they get in…
So, now I’m signing this fucking petition…and now he’s got another one out…and I’m just like, “Look, dude, I’m in a really big hurry.” And he’s trying to get me to sign just one more, okay?
And I look around the parking lot…I see them nowhere…I’ve missed them…I turn around and bolt…
“Hey, wait!! Come back!!!” he’s shouting.
I get to Beth’s car. “Fuck.”
“What’s wrong?” she asks.
“I missed them. That fucking guy with the petitions…I missed them.”
“No, they totally got into a white Saturn. I saw them. It’s not Borden. We’re okay. It’s not him,” she replies.
A sigh of relief. I get in the car.
So, now we’re driving the five blocks to Borden’s house. You have to understand about this house…it’s at the end of a cul-de-sac…and there’s no traffic on this street. Especially at 8 at night. So, we decide that we’re going to drive down around the cul-de-sac, and that way, the car will be facing the right direction to get out of there quickly after we make the delivery. I write “For Clint” on a post-it note and stick it to the box of cupcakes. As we’re driving past the house and down into the cul-de-sac, Beth says, “I think there’s someone in there. I thought I saw someone walk past the door.”
We get the car turned around. “Okay, then,” I say. “I’m not going to go all the way up to the porch because that may be too risky and there may be a motion light. I’ll leave them on his truck.”
I open the door. Come around the side of our car and am almost at the foot of his driveway…
And I see him there in the door…staring at me…
Fuck…
Only it’s so dark…it’s only his silhouette…I see a tall skinny man…longish dark hair…but of course (because that would just be too easy)…I can’t see his face. But I’m standing here staring at Borden…who may or may not be the Clint we’re looking for…
And I panic…he starts to come out of the house…there’s no way I’m making it in time around to the passenger side of the car…so, I jump in the back seat…throw the cupcakes in and slam the door…
“Shit, shit, shit…go, go, go…he’s coming!!” I yell.
Beth guns it out of there…
Fuck…
So, now what??? He clearly didn’t see what I looked like because it was dark where I was as well. But I’m sure he saw my silhouette and my profile…and now he’s seen the car…and the man must be wondering “what in the hell is going on here?”
We have to go back with the cupcakes, though because we have to attempt to prompt the phone call…when? We can’t take Beth’s car so we decide we’ll go back with mine.
We decide that we will go the next afternoon. He likely will not be home and we decide it will probably look a lot less conspicuous in the daylight.
The next day, we leave the house with the cupcakes.
“I wonder how long it’s going to take him to call once he gets them?” I muse.
We get to the house and all the cars and the truck are still parked out in the driveway. Likely, someone is home. I tell Beth that she should just leave the cupcakes on the hood of his truck. It’s too risky to go all the way up to the porch.
We turn around in the cul-de-sac…I’ve got the “get-away” car positioned and ready…she jumps out and at a crouched run, runs up around the side of the truck. Cupcakes are in place…back to the car…and we’re out of here…
“I wonder how long before he calls. You know he’s going to know you did it,” Beth said.
We run several errands for the next hour or so before heading home. We get home…and I see I have one missed call…CLINT BORDEN…
Not only that…it is literally minutes after the cupcakes were delivered….
You know he wants to ask me about the cupcakes…but he doesn’t know how…he doesn’t want to sound stupid…he’s extremely nervous on the voice mail:
”Hi…Debbie…this is Clint…ummm…from North Hollywood…ummmm…I was just calling to see what you were ….ummmm….up to….ummmm….what you were doing. Give me a call back….ummmmm….talk to you soon, okay? Ummmmm….okay…bye…”
Yeah, the man’s nervous…
Well, it is literally 15 minutes before we have to go to band rehearsal…I’m nervous too…I don’t have the time to calm myself down and make this call before we have to leave…I promise Beth I will call him when we get home…
“You better not pussy out of this,” she says. “You’re going to call when we get home.”
It’s 9:30 before we get home. By the time I have downed a little wine and have prepped myself to make this call…it is 9:45…
I call…and he’s not home…so I leave a message…I want to see him this week…we should get a drink…call me back…
And that’s where things now stand…I hope you liked the cupcakes, Clint…
Comments:
No you don't...you didn't even read the fucking blog. This is a goddamn motherfucking advertisement...how the hell is this related to the Clint search????
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