It was the little things that had happened that made me wonder how I had gotten to this point. The small and subtle, almost unnoticeable bits and pieces that formed over a period of time. Created a whole picture. A picture that left me as the squishy layer between an avalanche of hard places. I had been told of this impending event for weeks. Weeks that seemed to get longer and longer. Now I wished I was still waiting. Still unaware of the full knowledge of what a Cousin Nicki is.
Greg got off the phone early one Tuesday morning. We were in the middle of going through the lists of deliveries for the day. Trying to get the truck loaded with various couch and dinette sets as quick as possible before Greg decided to rearrange the store for the fourth time that month. Luckily this was a busier than normal Tuesday. We had plenty of deliveries and many that were pretty far away. In fact the whole morning was going to be spent heading up to a little spot up in the mountains called Cherry, a spot off the side of a side road with a gathering of cabins in a quaint little forest area in the foothills of the Arizona mountains. All Greg really had time to do was give us a brief message.
"Looks like I'm gonna be getting you some extra help here in a few days. Cousin Nicki is heading this way from Long Island. Said he'd be here within a few days."
"Oh good. So he's your cousin?"
"Yeah, he's my older cousin. Has had some tough times and just needs a job. Told him if he could get out here, I'd give him a chance. He's done all sorts of work so he should be a good help. Besides he's family. I gotta give him a chance."
"Sure. Sounds great. We could use the help. Especially on weekends you know."
"Yeah. OK. Well, I'll tell you when he gets here. Now get going. Need you back as soon as you can so we can get some sets moved around."
"Sure. We'll try, but heading up to around Prescott first thing so might be a long day."
"Oh, right, well tomorrow then."
Not if I have anything to do with it!
Time passed. A week went by and then two with no Cousin Nicki. Not because he was missing or just didn't show. No, it was one interesting story after another. With each one I dreaded more and more what sort of hot mess was headed our way. Through sporadic updates Greg would relate the ever lengthening saga of Cousin Nicki's tour of America. It seems Nicki had arranged a ride, or several rides, to get him from Long Island to Phoenix, AZ. In what was surely the least straight line ever conceived for a cross country journey, Nicki leap-frogged from on illogical destination to ever more illogical subsequent destinations in a circuitous attempt to arrive. Many times the updates seemed to show him backtracking or, by all accounts, starting over. My guess is that he had never truly started in the first place and was just ridding out the long grift to get the full bus fare. I learned later I was probably more correct than I had feared.
"Just heard from Cousin Nicki again. Looks like his ride got him to Ohio, but then they had to head back because of a death in the family, so he is stuck at the Salvation Army until he can get someone to send him his wallet. Oh yeah, he forgot his wallet in the car that left him in Ohio."
"Oh geez, is he OK?" I said out of as much false concern as I could muster.
"Yeah. Nicki can fend for himself. He'll figure it out. He used to be my lookout back in my New York days. We'd scavenge for all kinds of stuff on the side of the road. Spare tires. Discarded turntables. Ironing boards. Couches. Didn't matter. We could furnish a whole apartment ten times over just from stuff discarded on trash day. Just pile it into the back of the Buick and we were off. Good times."
"Cool! Sounds fun. Hope he makes it soon." A total lie. I really was hoping he'd lose interest and head back to Long Island. I was already dreading his arrival and I'd never met him. Just didn't seem like a good idea to be working with the bosses long lost cousin. A sentimental disadvantage in the making.
A few days later and Nicki was on the move again. Left Ohio and made it to Louisiana. From there he hitched across most of Texas. Somehow he then ended up in Montana. Back to Texas. Over to New Mexico. Colorado. Utah. Nevada. California. Utah again. Northern Arizona. Back to New Mexico, and then, after many weeks more than it should have taken, he arrived. At least according to Greg he had arrived. Greg was just letting him crash for a few days and shake off the journey before bringing him in.
He arrived and I was unprepared for what met my eyes. A scrawny leathery guy with slick backed gray hair and a bushy gray mustache in jeans cutoff shorts and pristine white wife beater t-shirt tucked into the shorts. He seemed way older than Greg by maybe a decade or two. I figured it was actually maybe five years, but years filled with considerably harder miles. He was all smiles and bravado, the perfect stereotype of the Long Island lower middle class neighborhood part-time thug, full time stoop lounger. It was disconcerting how authentic he was. Greg had long ago shed his Long Island persona, for the most part, but it would pop out when we got him riled up. Nicki never hid his persona. That was part of the problem. Nicki was always Nicki, no matter what.
It started off well enough. Nicki was still trying to behave and look good for Greg. He was grateful for the job and he was flat broke. None of us were sure how he had even made the journey at all, because he never did connect with his wallet along the way. In fact it was about three days after he arrived that his wallet was delivered to the store through the mail. Whatever he had done to get here, it hadn't involved any money he had saved for the trip. Even when he got the wallet, he was still humble and grateful Nicki, because his wallet may have had important personal stuff in it, but it didn't have any real cash to speak of.
It was when he got paid that things began to happen. Things began to take that subtle turn that really put the F-U in fun. Up to this point Nicki had been fine enough. He was strong enough to help with the deliveries. He could be reasoned with. He didn't like taking directions from me or any of the other delivery guys, but would suck it up and just work most of the time. He did like to complain once we were done, but it wouldn't stop him from continuing to work. He complained like a little old man, which for all intents and purposes he was, but it wasn't constant or loud and he could be easily routed to other subjects or silence.
Then one day it was overcast and had been drizzling on and off throughout the day . On this particular day I was lucky enough to get a full delivery schedule and Nicki as my helper. It was the Monday after payday and Nicki had finally gotten his first pay and was in good spirits.
"Gonna be a good day today, buddy boy."
"Sure Nicki. Hope it is a good day. Got lots of deliveries so at least we won't be stuck in the store."
"Oh yeah, buddy boy, gonna be a good one. Got them deliveries to do all right."
"Yeah, whatever you say. Glad you're looking forward to it. Let's get going."
We headed out for the day in the direction of Ahwatukee. The weather was still pretty gloomy with showers here and there. Nothing too serious, just a general dampness all over the valley. Just meant we would need to be extra careful. Try and keep things dry. I am running through the route in my head. Checking off the items and where they are packed. Doing all the typical preparations. Trying to ignore Nicki and do my job at the same time. Meanwhile Nicki is sitting over on his side looking out the window like he's searching for something. I don't worry because at least he isn't bothering me when suddenly he pipes up.
"Hey, pull over at that Circle K there. I need some medicine. I'm feeling like I got a cold starting."
"We're kind of in a hurry Nicki."
"Just pull over there buddy boy! Stop giving me grief. I need my medicine, man!" he says more menacingly than I am comfortable with.
I pull into the Circle K and Nicki jumps out almost before I can come to a stop and runs in. "I'll be right back" echoing in the cabin as the door slams shut. Maybe 30 seconds and he is back in the truck and he has gone from excited to angry, and his anger is directed at me.
"What are you doing to me man? This is the wrong place! What are you trying to pull? Trying to play some kind of joke on me?"
"What do you mean? You told me to pull into Circle K and I did!"
"They don't have medicine here. You trying to embarrass me or something? It's the wrong one. Find the right one and quick."
"What's the right one?"
"The one that sells my medicine. You know? Medicine?" as he makes the universal sign for drinking alcohol.
"I'm not taking you to buy booze Nicki."
"Just take me now kid! Take me to the right one and don't embarrass me again or I'll show you why I had to leave Long Island. It won't be pretty, I can tell you that much! And another thing, not a word to Greg or you'll be sorry! Now find the right one!"
So, on I drove. Under threat of violence. Fearing retaliation. I drove until I found the Circle K that had the additional "LIQUOR" sign below the name to assure me they had the hard stuff he was looking for.
"Thanks kid. See, now wasn't that easy? Don't worry. I'm just getting my medicine for later. When were done. Now I'll be right back and we can get to that delivery."
This time it was a minute or two longer but when Nicki came back he was smiling and nice and all the threats were as if they had never happened. He had a little brown bag in one hand which he slid between him and the door as got buckled in. I drove on and was glad he seemed to be keeping his word that it was for some later time.
Later was apparently another five minutes down the road. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him fiddle with the bag. Remove the lid from the bottle. Remove the entire bottle of what turned out to be gin from the bag. Raise said bottle to his lips, and begin to drink. Then he continued to drink and not stop until he had drained the fifth of gin that had previously sat beside him. Soon thereafter Nicki was in too good of a mood. He was smiling like an idiot and drifting in and out of attention. It was then that we got to the first delivery. One of our nicer couches with nine different throw pillows. Easy enough delivery. Went to the door. Saw where to put the couch. Went back to the truck. Nicki had the sofa on the floor of the truck and was waiting. All fine. Then he started tossing throw pillows rapidly out the back of the truck at me with a stupid, well inebriated, ridiculous grin all over his completely smashed face. As I mentioned, it was wet. It had been raining here and there. We needed to be careful. We needed to use caution. Instead we had Cousin Drinks-a-lot tossing throw pillows into the street. It didn't end well. We loaded the sofa back into the truck and I promised a replacement within a couple of days.
"Where we going, kid?"
"Back to the store."
"What for?"
"Shut up Nicki. Just go pass out over in the corner of the cab. I don't want to talk to you."
"What did I do?"
"Nothin' Nicki. Just needed to go get something I forgot."
I didn't care about Nicki's threats. He was an idiot and I didn't really think he'd do anything. I did care that I was heading back to the store to tell Greg that his Cousin Nicki was a raging alcoholic that I refused to work with. I did care that he might choose family over me and I might be heading home permanently after our little talk. I did care that I had been put in this situation in the first place. Greg had to know. He must have known, or at least suspected, some of what Cousin Nicki was capable of. That made me mad and upset. Gave me that push to be outspoken.
"Greg, we need to talk."
"Yeah, why? Why are you back so quick?"
"We had to trade out the couch for our first delivery."
"What?!?! What happened?"
"Nicki happened."
"What?"
"Nicki threatened me until I took him to the liquor store. He bought a fifth of gin and then proceeded to polish it off. By the time we got to the delivery he was smashed. Started tossing throw pillows onto the damp street. Had to just pack up, apologize, and leave!"
"Oh, I see."
"I'm not working with him again, Greg. Do you understand that?"
"Yes, understood. I'll fix it. Don't worry. Grab Pete and a new couch and get out of here. Sorry for that. Will fix it with Nicki."
"OK Greg, OK."
Goodbye Cousin Nicki. Farewell Greg's furniture store. I have moved on and nearly forgotten those heady days at the wheel of the delivery truck. No more are the deliveries in 110 degree heat. No more are the third floor sleeper beds at the end of the day on Friday. I cherish the memory but never long for the execution of it. Cousin Nicki came from out on Long Island. Took weeks before we could ever find him. Always his hustle in the air. A mean drunk, he got paid and the gin he sunk. Glad I don't have to ride with you again.
Greg got off the phone early one Tuesday morning. We were in the middle of going through the lists of deliveries for the day. Trying to get the truck loaded with various couch and dinette sets as quick as possible before Greg decided to rearrange the store for the fourth time that month. Luckily this was a busier than normal Tuesday. We had plenty of deliveries and many that were pretty far away. In fact the whole morning was going to be spent heading up to a little spot up in the mountains called Cherry, a spot off the side of a side road with a gathering of cabins in a quaint little forest area in the foothills of the Arizona mountains. All Greg really had time to do was give us a brief message.
"Looks like I'm gonna be getting you some extra help here in a few days. Cousin Nicki is heading this way from Long Island. Said he'd be here within a few days."
"Oh good. So he's your cousin?"
"Yeah, he's my older cousin. Has had some tough times and just needs a job. Told him if he could get out here, I'd give him a chance. He's done all sorts of work so he should be a good help. Besides he's family. I gotta give him a chance."
"Sure. Sounds great. We could use the help. Especially on weekends you know."
"Yeah. OK. Well, I'll tell you when he gets here. Now get going. Need you back as soon as you can so we can get some sets moved around."
"Sure. We'll try, but heading up to around Prescott first thing so might be a long day."
"Oh, right, well tomorrow then."
Not if I have anything to do with it!
Time passed. A week went by and then two with no Cousin Nicki. Not because he was missing or just didn't show. No, it was one interesting story after another. With each one I dreaded more and more what sort of hot mess was headed our way. Through sporadic updates Greg would relate the ever lengthening saga of Cousin Nicki's tour of America. It seems Nicki had arranged a ride, or several rides, to get him from Long Island to Phoenix, AZ. In what was surely the least straight line ever conceived for a cross country journey, Nicki leap-frogged from on illogical destination to ever more illogical subsequent destinations in a circuitous attempt to arrive. Many times the updates seemed to show him backtracking or, by all accounts, starting over. My guess is that he had never truly started in the first place and was just ridding out the long grift to get the full bus fare. I learned later I was probably more correct than I had feared.
"Just heard from Cousin Nicki again. Looks like his ride got him to Ohio, but then they had to head back because of a death in the family, so he is stuck at the Salvation Army until he can get someone to send him his wallet. Oh yeah, he forgot his wallet in the car that left him in Ohio."
"Oh geez, is he OK?" I said out of as much false concern as I could muster.
"Yeah. Nicki can fend for himself. He'll figure it out. He used to be my lookout back in my New York days. We'd scavenge for all kinds of stuff on the side of the road. Spare tires. Discarded turntables. Ironing boards. Couches. Didn't matter. We could furnish a whole apartment ten times over just from stuff discarded on trash day. Just pile it into the back of the Buick and we were off. Good times."
"Cool! Sounds fun. Hope he makes it soon." A total lie. I really was hoping he'd lose interest and head back to Long Island. I was already dreading his arrival and I'd never met him. Just didn't seem like a good idea to be working with the bosses long lost cousin. A sentimental disadvantage in the making.
A few days later and Nicki was on the move again. Left Ohio and made it to Louisiana. From there he hitched across most of Texas. Somehow he then ended up in Montana. Back to Texas. Over to New Mexico. Colorado. Utah. Nevada. California. Utah again. Northern Arizona. Back to New Mexico, and then, after many weeks more than it should have taken, he arrived. At least according to Greg he had arrived. Greg was just letting him crash for a few days and shake off the journey before bringing him in.
He arrived and I was unprepared for what met my eyes. A scrawny leathery guy with slick backed gray hair and a bushy gray mustache in jeans cutoff shorts and pristine white wife beater t-shirt tucked into the shorts. He seemed way older than Greg by maybe a decade or two. I figured it was actually maybe five years, but years filled with considerably harder miles. He was all smiles and bravado, the perfect stereotype of the Long Island lower middle class neighborhood part-time thug, full time stoop lounger. It was disconcerting how authentic he was. Greg had long ago shed his Long Island persona, for the most part, but it would pop out when we got him riled up. Nicki never hid his persona. That was part of the problem. Nicki was always Nicki, no matter what.
It started off well enough. Nicki was still trying to behave and look good for Greg. He was grateful for the job and he was flat broke. None of us were sure how he had even made the journey at all, because he never did connect with his wallet along the way. In fact it was about three days after he arrived that his wallet was delivered to the store through the mail. Whatever he had done to get here, it hadn't involved any money he had saved for the trip. Even when he got the wallet, he was still humble and grateful Nicki, because his wallet may have had important personal stuff in it, but it didn't have any real cash to speak of.
It was when he got paid that things began to happen. Things began to take that subtle turn that really put the F-U in fun. Up to this point Nicki had been fine enough. He was strong enough to help with the deliveries. He could be reasoned with. He didn't like taking directions from me or any of the other delivery guys, but would suck it up and just work most of the time. He did like to complain once we were done, but it wouldn't stop him from continuing to work. He complained like a little old man, which for all intents and purposes he was, but it wasn't constant or loud and he could be easily routed to other subjects or silence.
Then one day it was overcast and had been drizzling on and off throughout the day . On this particular day I was lucky enough to get a full delivery schedule and Nicki as my helper. It was the Monday after payday and Nicki had finally gotten his first pay and was in good spirits.
"Gonna be a good day today, buddy boy."
"Sure Nicki. Hope it is a good day. Got lots of deliveries so at least we won't be stuck in the store."
"Oh yeah, buddy boy, gonna be a good one. Got them deliveries to do all right."
"Yeah, whatever you say. Glad you're looking forward to it. Let's get going."
We headed out for the day in the direction of Ahwatukee. The weather was still pretty gloomy with showers here and there. Nothing too serious, just a general dampness all over the valley. Just meant we would need to be extra careful. Try and keep things dry. I am running through the route in my head. Checking off the items and where they are packed. Doing all the typical preparations. Trying to ignore Nicki and do my job at the same time. Meanwhile Nicki is sitting over on his side looking out the window like he's searching for something. I don't worry because at least he isn't bothering me when suddenly he pipes up.
"Hey, pull over at that Circle K there. I need some medicine. I'm feeling like I got a cold starting."
"We're kind of in a hurry Nicki."
"Just pull over there buddy boy! Stop giving me grief. I need my medicine, man!" he says more menacingly than I am comfortable with.
I pull into the Circle K and Nicki jumps out almost before I can come to a stop and runs in. "I'll be right back" echoing in the cabin as the door slams shut. Maybe 30 seconds and he is back in the truck and he has gone from excited to angry, and his anger is directed at me.
"What are you doing to me man? This is the wrong place! What are you trying to pull? Trying to play some kind of joke on me?"
"What do you mean? You told me to pull into Circle K and I did!"
"They don't have medicine here. You trying to embarrass me or something? It's the wrong one. Find the right one and quick."
"What's the right one?"
"The one that sells my medicine. You know? Medicine?" as he makes the universal sign for drinking alcohol.
"I'm not taking you to buy booze Nicki."
"Just take me now kid! Take me to the right one and don't embarrass me again or I'll show you why I had to leave Long Island. It won't be pretty, I can tell you that much! And another thing, not a word to Greg or you'll be sorry! Now find the right one!"
So, on I drove. Under threat of violence. Fearing retaliation. I drove until I found the Circle K that had the additional "LIQUOR" sign below the name to assure me they had the hard stuff he was looking for.
"Thanks kid. See, now wasn't that easy? Don't worry. I'm just getting my medicine for later. When were done. Now I'll be right back and we can get to that delivery."
This time it was a minute or two longer but when Nicki came back he was smiling and nice and all the threats were as if they had never happened. He had a little brown bag in one hand which he slid between him and the door as got buckled in. I drove on and was glad he seemed to be keeping his word that it was for some later time.
Later was apparently another five minutes down the road. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him fiddle with the bag. Remove the lid from the bottle. Remove the entire bottle of what turned out to be gin from the bag. Raise said bottle to his lips, and begin to drink. Then he continued to drink and not stop until he had drained the fifth of gin that had previously sat beside him. Soon thereafter Nicki was in too good of a mood. He was smiling like an idiot and drifting in and out of attention. It was then that we got to the first delivery. One of our nicer couches with nine different throw pillows. Easy enough delivery. Went to the door. Saw where to put the couch. Went back to the truck. Nicki had the sofa on the floor of the truck and was waiting. All fine. Then he started tossing throw pillows rapidly out the back of the truck at me with a stupid, well inebriated, ridiculous grin all over his completely smashed face. As I mentioned, it was wet. It had been raining here and there. We needed to be careful. We needed to use caution. Instead we had Cousin Drinks-a-lot tossing throw pillows into the street. It didn't end well. We loaded the sofa back into the truck and I promised a replacement within a couple of days.
"Where we going, kid?"
"Back to the store."
"What for?"
"Shut up Nicki. Just go pass out over in the corner of the cab. I don't want to talk to you."
"What did I do?"
"Nothin' Nicki. Just needed to go get something I forgot."
I didn't care about Nicki's threats. He was an idiot and I didn't really think he'd do anything. I did care that I was heading back to the store to tell Greg that his Cousin Nicki was a raging alcoholic that I refused to work with. I did care that he might choose family over me and I might be heading home permanently after our little talk. I did care that I had been put in this situation in the first place. Greg had to know. He must have known, or at least suspected, some of what Cousin Nicki was capable of. That made me mad and upset. Gave me that push to be outspoken.
"Greg, we need to talk."
"Yeah, why? Why are you back so quick?"
"We had to trade out the couch for our first delivery."
"What?!?! What happened?"
"Nicki happened."
"What?"
"Nicki threatened me until I took him to the liquor store. He bought a fifth of gin and then proceeded to polish it off. By the time we got to the delivery he was smashed. Started tossing throw pillows onto the damp street. Had to just pack up, apologize, and leave!"
"Oh, I see."
"I'm not working with him again, Greg. Do you understand that?"
"Yes, understood. I'll fix it. Don't worry. Grab Pete and a new couch and get out of here. Sorry for that. Will fix it with Nicki."
"OK Greg, OK."
Goodbye Cousin Nicki. Farewell Greg's furniture store. I have moved on and nearly forgotten those heady days at the wheel of the delivery truck. No more are the deliveries in 110 degree heat. No more are the third floor sleeper beds at the end of the day on Friday. I cherish the memory but never long for the execution of it. Cousin Nicki came from out on Long Island. Took weeks before we could ever find him. Always his hustle in the air. A mean drunk, he got paid and the gin he sunk. Glad I don't have to ride with you again.
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