Part 2:
Its been two weeks, since my arrival in America. Everything is going well so far, at least, that's how I see it. Its an early morning, having found myself up pretty early. I guess I am still excited, with the fact, that I am in America, and not worrying too much, about life. It is 7 a.m., when I hear a sharp rapping on my door. I am actually downstairs, but stop suddenly and simply look at the door. My eyes are widened somewhat, and I carry the glass I was about to fill up with water, with me towards the door. I get to the window nearby, and stand somewhat still near it, and peer glance, out of it. I do not see anything, but I recognize a pick-up truck packed in the driveway. I relax, smile a little, and quickly open the door. Its one of the guys, from the "Joy Club". He looks at me upon my opening the door "smilefully", and says to me upon seeing me, "Get dressed, come down quick." I somewhat hesitate, but decide against further hesitation, by moving slowly somewhat, towards the kitchen, to put back the glass. I stop somewhat at the staircase, wanting to turn around and simply ask many questions. The man, is still standing on the porch looking out, and all my questions, are based on my present hunger state. I decide against it quickly, and quickly dash up the staircase, and back into my room. Ten minutes later, I am back downstairs, and the man is still on the porch. "Come on" he says to me, "we've got to get moving." I somewhat run out and by the time I am out of the door, the man has made his way almost to the car, while I ponder whether to lock the door, or not. I quickly shut it, after the pondering, just to be met by a cry from the man saying, "Lock the door." He then swiftly gets into the pick-up truck. I turn around somewhat, and quickly lock the door and I am surprised at that, as I am usually bad at locking doors. I run up to the truck and openly get into the seat, besides the man. I sit down on the seat, while heaving my chest, somewhat up. I look at the man somewhat and then downwards towards his feet, and back to the front outside. I wonder to myself, if the door is really locked, and I believe that it is. At this moment, the pick-up truck is already reversing and I turn somewhat, to look back, through the elliptical window behind us. We're out on the street fast enough, and I kind of peer at the neighbouring houses, and inside their windows, as we begin to speed up, and drive away. I sit back, and don't say anything, a moment before, I had attempted to hang out my elbow from the window besides me, but it didn't feel right physiologically. Minutes later, about ten, we arrive at a point of location, with no words having been exchanged between us. The man gets out, and begins to walk into a warehouse building, while I having sat back a bit, start upon getting out of the truck too. I follow the man, partly from a distance, and somewhat rapidly from an angle behind him. He gets to the door, to the warehouse like building, and begins to enter it. I am some few moments behind him, from doing the same action, and when I get there soon enough, I can hear the man speaking to someone inside, whom I can't see, but strongly assume to be seated behind a desk. I get to the door and somewhat unconsciously attempt, to look through the spaces, below the hinges, but quickly turn away, as I see myself, walking through the door. I enter somewhat, and I can hear the man say, "The new guy", and the voice says back, which makes me promptly frown, "what new guy?", and the man says again, "The new guy", with an open hand gesture. I walk in, to make myself seen, as I believe they are talking about me. Upon walking in, I promptly and shortly, fold my mouth, in a pouting manner, and then move slightly back with my upper body, as I am taken aback due to the belief that I recognize the man. He upon seeing me, looks down swiftly and folds his mouth somewhat poutingly, and is moving his thumbs together close handed, appearing to be seated, bended on the chair, behind the desk. Blood rushes to me heart, as I feel a warm feeling there of surprise really, as I can truly recognize, that the man, is James Gandolfini. I step back and outwards, still feeling surprised, and wait while looking at the man before me.
The man says, "Okay", and I somewhat believe that James Gandolfini, showed him an open hand while still looking down, with a partly folded mouth. The man turns towards me, and without looking at me, starts to make his way back to the truck, while I stand somewhat aside watching him. As he begins to descend on the car plainly, I somewhat jump up front lowly, and begin to follow him. I get to the truck, as he is getting in, and seat myself back onto the same position, I was in. We drive off to another location I believe, and I am not wrong. Arriving there, I find two other trucks, and some burly Italian-Americans, seated and standing behind the trucks. I can see all this from within the car, as we approach, to a stop. The man quickly gets out, one leg out fast, and I turn to my door, to look swiftly and quickly, for the door latch. I find it, and as I am pulling it, find myself looking outside the window, without paying too much attention. I am out quick too, and make my way to the group, as the man is already there, slowly and appearing hesitantly, in my later point of view. I get there, and as they are talking, I look around and see that there are other Italian-American guys there, with the Joe Perry look, seated and having a conversation with everybody else. I somewhat feel comfortable almost immediately and begin to make my way towards inside but really out of the group. I stand there nearby. Nobody says anything to me. The burly man who collected me from my apartment, stands as if he does not known or recognize me, with his back behind me. So now, I am standing there, and there are some guys smoking and a burly man holding a brew of some sort. I just stand there looking at them, and also trying to become unseeable, by turning to look at the other direction, and back at the guys. Later, much later than I expect, I see a man carry a crate, filled with beer, into the building, which I turn and momentarily recognize, as being a warehouse. I am standing there, with nobody saying anything to me, though I keep looking, at one of the guys, with a Joe Perry look, who is now holding a drink of some sort. Time passes, and I begin to see a pattern, which I don't really recognize until the burly man who drove me here, having turned almost towards me head fast, shoves his hand forwards from me, into a truck loaded with crates. It is then that it hits me, that I am supposed to be at the very least, helping carry the crates inside. I get to the truck nearby, and everybody is standing there, talking while somewhat ignoring each other, and I begin to grab a crate, and somewhat pull it out. "Easy" shouts somewhat the man, with a Joe Perry look. I turn to him and he says, "don't break anything." I begin to see what he means, as the crate is pretty heavy, more heavier than I believed, and big too. But that's America, I say to myself without really thinking, its just big. The crate is heavy, and my biceps are strained, as I begin to somehow and somewhat march, into the warehouse. I do put down the crate before I get to where I should deposit it, once. I put it close down to the rest, which surprisingly, are heaped on to each other. I hear a voice say, as I contemplate, whether to attempt to put the crate on top of the others, "here, let me get that." I turn to see the long haired man, whom I am now silently calling Joe Perry, lift the crate up onto the others. He turns around and looks at me pretty swiftly from the corner of his eyes, as he bends halfway lifting his leg, to somewhat dust his shoes with a slap. He is out and I follow from a distance somewhat. It is obvious, whats going on here to me, as the pattern is recognizable. The guys stand and "seat' around talking to each other indirectly, and once in a while, one picks up a crate, and takes it into the warehouse. I do the same after a while, as the crates are pretty heavy. They are not African crates, is what really crosses my mind. On the second attempt, I carry the crate with a more uplifted force, but as I get to the other crates, with an almost crouching up posture, I hear a voice loudly say, "Just drop it by the side." I do that, with almost an open air of relief, and touch my brow somewhat, to see if I am really sweating, or if just hot. I get out again. Its amazing I think to myself, I like the work pattern here, pretty relaxing, however, my mind turns swiftly to my physical condition. I always believed myself to be somewhat fit. Grew up exercising somewhat too. Even owned Arnold Schwarzenegger's "Education of a Bodybuilder", but I am surprised at my condition still. I thought all the years of temporary exercising, would add up somewhat to something, yet they appear, not to have done so. After carrying in a third crate, I simply decide to chill. Yep, that's what I really do, as a silent inner voice is telling me, "they should have told you about this, I would probably have been ready for it.' But it is a silent voice, and speaks to me, intermittently, as I think my own thoughts. I don't really pay attention to it, but I know it is there, when it shows itself, and affects my moods.
Much later on, having carried no other crate, and having inched close to the group, I am standing close nonchalantly, listening to the guys. I am not keenly listening, as I believe they do not want me to do so, yet I somewhat do, turning to look oftenly, at the man who lifted the crate up for me. I don't hear much I can recognize, and simply stand looking out and across sideways, at the rather empty location. With time, the burly man then turns to me, and says, "Lets get going." I jump up somewhat lowly again, from my leaning position, and quickly I believe somewhat pout my mouth slightly, as if saying back, "okay, if you want to." We get into the truck somewhat simultaneously, as the man twice turns back, to make a point, at another in the group. We are seated into the car, simultaneously, as I keep looking at the man he is talking to. We get going, to a new location. It turns out to be a kind of Villa, in NY, which surprises me, as I tend to envision Villas, belonging in California. The man gets out of the truck, before some huge black gates, and somewhat looks through a peephole, in the gates. I just watch him, and after sometime of looking, gets back in, into the truck, and with a short wait, I find the gates opening. I am shocked, as there is nobody standing there, to open them. I even quickly turn somewhat, as the man peers into his side mirror while driving in, as if looking at whats behind. I look backwards too swiftly, but not openly I believe, seeking out to find, who opened the gates. We get to a garage that fits two cars, straight ahead, and I simply look forward, and somewhat smoothly rub my hands on my pants once, before turning to look at the man. He gets out nonchalantly, and when he gets close to the garage doors, he makes for a door by the side, which I see by peering from the car, goes into the house. He has reached the door and opened it, and then motions me with his arm, to come over. I quickly get out but try, not to be noticeable. The man on the otherhand, simply walks in, leaving the door open. I get there, after a short run I do not really pay attention to, but do so for a slight moment. I walk in. My mind, as that's what I believe I am using, has gone blank. I do not know why, but I believe, it just does not recognize its whereabouts. The Villa, which is what I call it in my mind, before looking around, and noticing it is not really a house, is really well decorated. Really well. I am somewhat amazed and even lost, at what I am feeling, while standing there, but I begin to make my way swiftly to where I can hear the man, talking to another. I get there, and stand close but far, where I can be seen by the man, looking at him, in a very lost manner. "He's here?" says a voice, and the man I came with, turns to look at me, and motions me quickly, to go in. I do so hesitantly, then somewhat quickly and with a wide eye look. I get into the room, which is large, and I cannot call by any known name. It is not really a living room, but looks more like a hall. Standing there before me, shortly unrecognizable to me, but then very recognizable unbelievably, is Danny DeVito. I see him, and want to say hello even, but he simply turns away, with an open somewhat wide eye look, and somewhat folds his mouth, as if about to begin laughing. I just stand there, for I now truly believe, I have absolutely no idea, what is going on. I even turn to the man, first hopefully for an open explanation, but then after shortly, very shortly, for clues to whats going on, as he simply stands there, looking somewhat at Danny DeVito. I stand very silently and DeVito, whom I notice, but almost immediately forget is holding a cigar, turns to the man and says, with a folded smile, which I believe will break into a laugh, "Okay." I fold my mouth almost immediately, as if lurking towards laughing, as I see Danny DeVito, is back to walking sideways upfront me and the other man, still with a lurking smile on his face, that I believe is about to break into a laugh. The man behind me walks out, and I stand there. I can hear him, walking out swiftly, but I turn my gaze back onto Danny DeVito. He on the otherhand, has stopped smiling, and is looking at me big eyed, after lighting his cigar, taking a puff, and turning to me with an open hand gesture, which makes me notice the drifting smoke, and having said, "Well!" I am just startled, as Danny Devito continues simply looking at me big eyed, in the same pose, and it hits me, he is saying, "get the hell out of my house." I somewhat pout my lips, as an "oh!', silently but visibly escapes me, and turn quickly to make way towards the direction, I came from, and charitably, find my way out. I get out and into the view of the man in the truck, almost I believe skidding on the outside, as the man also gestures to me, to close the door. I do so quickly, as if bolting it, and then make my way quickly to the truck. I am in, inside the truck, fast enough I believe, and sitting back on my part of the seat, as the man almost immediately begins, to reverse. The gates are still open again, and as we pass, he waves his hand somewhat, which I look at investigatively and closely, as I wonder what just happened; but then I say to myself, "its some electronic stuff." The gates, begin to close.
We get back to my place, and as I get out, and still hungry although the thought hits me, as we enter the driveway, the man says to me, "Be ready by seven." I jump out quick, as I can see the man is impatient, and almost slam my door, which makes me look concerned afterwards. I get to my front door, take out my keys, put the keys in, open the door, and make my way in. I decide to, rather slowly, while inside, to get some food. I first though, go into the kitchen, to drink some water, but decide against it, while in there, for some unknown reason. I then somewhat run up the stairs to my room, and get inside, and simply start looking around strangely. It hits me, unnoticeably but direct, that I am acting strange, for an unknown reason. I sit on my bed, and get up again. I have no idea, whats going on, I feel really restless, and I decide to go downstairs fast, with a worried look that shows itself, as I get to the bottom of the staircase. I get to the living room, and simply stand there looking around, at a 180 degree angle. I look at the door, and simply stand there, for an unknown reason. I am beginning to get worried, but I am not thinking it. I find myself turning, and stopping at the doorway to the kitchen, but as I decide to make my way in there, and begin to take the first step, I find my self hesitating, and then stopping, as I turn again towards the living room, but take some steps towards it. I then simply stand there, as I am beginning to feel dizzy. I fall to the ground backwards sideways, and then simply lay on my side, as I begin to think, I am moving round, but then lay on my back. I turn to the other side, and lay in a position similar to that a coughing person laying down, will take upon thinking they are choking. I am still feeling dizzy, and I do not why. I begin to panic, I stand up again, and I am pretty sure now, that the ground is spinning under me. I just stand there staring down, as I believe I love spinning, a childhood belief. But this is not a normal spinning, as I feel my shoulder spinning faster, than the rest of my body. I jerk around quickly, and I am back in the same position as before, bending over somewhat. I like the position, as I feel stable in it, and simply stay put. I find myself, getting on my knees and with time, the spinning stops. I look up at the door and get up, before falling down backward almost immediately. I come to, I believe a few moments later, but find out, it is almost two hours later. I am then shocked, not at what just happened I believe, but due to being out or almost out, for two hours. I get up again, and feel somewhat warm and well, and the room looks darker than before. I turn around, and back upstairs to my room, I am somewhat forgetting, what just happened. I get into my room, it looks the same, but darker. It is 3 p.m., and I cannot understand why everything looks dark. I look at my bag, with some of my clothing in it, and set out to look for something to put on. It then slowly hits me, that it is still early. So I sit on my bed, and then lay down back, and just look at the ceiling. I do that while thinking nothing and something nothing, and after a while, I get up and sit on the bed again. I look at my watch, and it says 4 p.m., and I get up, and put on a new t-shirt, and go back downstairs, to watch TV. I am there for another two hours, before I set back upstairs, to prepare myself, for the night. All this time, I have not thought of the night, but as I do, nothing hits or impresses me. In reality, I simply have no thoughts about it. The night arrives, and as promised, the man promptly arrives at seven p.m. I look out of the window, as I hear a car approaching, and I see the man, driving an automobile, of some sort. I do not recognize the automobile, as I am not the kind to recognize American cars, by name. I look at the shape, but don't recognize it, although it looks like a Cadillac to me, an old day Cadillac. I get out, almost excitedly, and wait for the man to pull up. He comes out, and he is well dressed, with a rounded hat, and a suit on, that I have only previously seen, in American movies. He comes out of the automobile, rushes to my front door, as I look on with surprise and concern, as he makes it into my house, while I am still at the window, and heads immediately towards the Kitchen, as he sees me while entering but continues ahead. I hear the taps open and some sound and silence, which I recognize, as the drinking of water, and then see the man walk out pretty quick and say to me, "lets get going." I grab my jacket, it's the same jacket I had on, the only I have, and I make my way to the automobile, with him looking at it, somewhat distastefully, but not really showing it conceivably. I look at the automobile, as I get to it, somewhat hesitating while looking into it, and somewhat attempting to adjust to the different shape, to what I am accustomed to. I grab the door latch, and make out to pull it, but the man has slid towards the side, and pulled it from the inside, which makes my attempt to pull it, futile. I almost fall backwards slightly I believe, but then re-adjust myself, and get into the automobile, before proceeding to actually pull back the open door. I do, slamming it, but wishing not to have done so. The man looks downwardly nonchalantly, with an almost open look, on his face. I just sit back, comfortably, for the automobile, feels like a plane to me. "Ready?!" he asks and says, and I simply nod severally, while turning to look at him. He puts the key, into the automobiles starter, turns it, the automobile vrooms, and we begin to move backwards slowly, resulting in the same feeling one gets, in a slowly moving plane. We are out and off quicker than I think, and arrive at a destination, pretty soon, but later, as I only concentrate, on the feel of the automobile, as we go along. We arrive at a posh restaurant, without a name. I get out, there are some people out there, and I become pretty conscious. I don't know why, but they are white people, and I feel conscious. I get out, and see a group, amongst a group of many, at a nearing neighbouring restaurant, appearing to be talking with each other, consisting of two men, and one woman. One man, with his back towards me, turns to look at me, and then turns away. I keep going, but feel the womans eyes, on me. The burly man, has already reached the door, and is standing there holding it open, it's a side door into the restaurant, which has a dining extension on the outside, and simply says to me as I hesitate, "get in". I do, almost promptly, and stand looking around, wondering where to go. He taps the behind of one of my arms once, and I begin to follow him, to the backside of the restaurant. We get in there and into a room, that serves as a hallway, before going back further, into a small hallway, hard to explain, as it is all American to me, and finally, into a back door, at the very back. We get in there, and it is a room, with a small uplifting at the front, and set in there, are tables making a U. A rectangular U. "Sit in there" says the man, as he meanders over, to another door, which I simply believe leads to the Kitchen, as I hear voices and some clashing of steel I believe. I head towards the tables, and find myself choosing a chair, at one of the joints, of the rectangular U. I sit there, trying not to disturb anything. I hear voices again, and the burly man comes out of the same door he went into, followed by another man, whom he appears to have given instructions to. The man appears to be Latino, and at another place and time probably, I would have attempted to nod head him up, as a greeting, but I am actually now feeling Italian. The burly man continues on, to another door, as the Latino man, goes out through the door we originally came in through. I just sit there, and wait. I decide to get up once, but decide against it almost immediately. I am not sure how long I am there, as I no longer really think of time, but soon enough, I hear voices, coming through the first door, that which we came in through. The first person through, is James Gandolfini, which surprises me a lot. There is a little boy with him, whom he directs towards the Kitchen, and as he does so, looks up to me and says, "How you doin' " solemnly. I lift up my hand, in a small hello, and shake my head once down recognizable, while saying "fine!" He goes in, to the Kitchen. I sit back on my chair, and feel nervous, I release a shallow breathe. Later on, people begin to pour in, they are all Italian-Americans, burly, and they make it to the Kitchen too. I just sit there and wonder whats going on, they all look at me, as they go in. Some time later, not too much later, the man whom I came with, says to me while forwarding me from the Kitchen door, "Come!", without looking at me, and I instantaneously get up, and follow him within. I have an open smile somewhat on my face, but it is wider, in my mind. I go in, walking slowly, as the man is holding the door from within, and as I walk, he walks by me at a length, and again shows me by open hand, into another room. In there, is a dining, set to begin. I immediately see the huge dome, often seen in American movies, and I believe I know, there is meat under there, without really obviously smelling it. "Take a seat", the man says while standing at the door, there is a rectangular U table in there too, and I seek out the same position, as before. There are couple of kids and teenagers, meddling with each other, on one side of the room. I get in there and simply sit, with no one really paying attention to me, with the exception of one kid, who looks at me, and then shortly looks way. I sit there looking closely at the ceiling distantly, and soon enough, there is a commotion at the door, and I look there, to see James Gandolfini, and others, walk into the room. They are mostly older teenagers. I don't know what to say, but I do notice, they are mostly older teenagers. I don't really like older teenagers myself, I don't know why, and therefore find myself concentrating, on James Gandolfini. He sits at the center of the U table, and I remain where I am seated. Everybody else takes their seats, and somewhat unconsciously, I feel prompted to get up again, and take my seat again too. I just sit there, for some reason, I expect James Gandolfini, to talk to me. He does not, and mostly talks to the others, while I am starting to feel real awkward. I don't show it though, and somewhat believe the feeling will go away soon, enough, but I still find myself staring at times and somewhat, at James Gandolfini. Soon enough again, another man, whom I identify as Mexican, comes in pushing another tray with a dome in it, while pushing away, that which is standing there. I wait apprehensively, and he stands there momentarily and then opens the dome. There is a big Turkey in there, and I let out a smile within me. I love Chicken, and I can't wait to get eating, as I am starting now, to feel famished. Dinner is served, so to speak, and I get my serving of Turkey soon enough. I can't wait to get eating, as I am really hungry I agree, but can feel other eyes on me, at the moment. I look up from my dish, to find everybody looking down, at theirs. The food is all served, there is Turkey, mashed potatoes, some syrup I look at eagerly as it is passed around, and some little greens. I sense some eyes on me disapprovingly, and notice the Mexican man, somewhat look at me, with an almost disbelieving look. I just make an open face expression, noticeable only to those who have been looking at me, and look around me. James Gandolfini, is talking to a kid by him, telling him, to fasten up his tie. I just look at my dish, and somewhat swallow, the syrup gets to me, I pour what I believe is adequate and pass it on lookingly, to the next person. We begin to eat. I cut up the Turkey, without remorse, although I do picture a Turkey within my mind. Some Turkey cut up, hanging on my folk, some mashed potatoes with syrup, placed on the opening of the fork, and away to my mouth. A warm feeling gushes through me, as I chew and notice, how sweet it all is, that upon really looking up from chewing, I somewhat recognize, that I am really in America. This goes on, with me feeling the blood draining from my face, and occasional looks on my part, at James Gandolfini. The dinner is finished up, and I am wondering whats next, as everybody is still seated with a serious face on, while my face somewhat openly beams. Another meal is brought in, this time served, as they do, on airlines. It turns out to be some Pasta. I look at it, and the word Italian, simply lights up in my mind. I just wait, and when everything is set ready, which takes ample time not too long, as we have to hand in our former dishes, in exchange for the new. We are seated again and ready, for what I promptly refer to in my mind, as the second course. Everybody somewhat begins to eat, and I have a red source and a white cream in front of me. I look up at everybody else, but they are busy talking to each other, as they place napkins, around their necks. I look at mine, and I am thinking of doing like wise, but decide to place it after a brief tryout on my neck, on my lap. As I sit there, debating on how to begin, I find my hand begin to move towards the red sauce. It is shortly stopped afterwards, by a voice which I recognize as being James Gandolfinis saying, "You cannot put the red sauce, on the pasta." I look up at him surprised, and wonders what he could mean, I look back at the setting before me, and my mind goes blank for a while, and when I come back, I am thinking for some unknown reason, of dipping the pasta, onto the red sauce. I look up slowly again, mostly if not totally, towards James Gandolfini, and he says upon my reaching his gaze, "Here, show him", at what appears, to be the kid next to him. The young guy next to me, takes the red sauce, and practically throws it, into the white cream, and mixes it all together. I somewhat smile to myself, before he pours it out all for me, onto my pasta. I look at the pasta, as he does so, and when he is almost done, recline on my chair briefly, while looking up around me, and concernedly, at James Gandolfini. We begin to it, and I notice that I am not good at eating Pasta, I am afraid I will drop something. I take a bite and then two, and notice how really good, it all tastes. I thought Spaghetti with Ketchup, was pretty good, but this is actually really really good. The dish is done in an appropriate time, as chewing Pasta, does take time too. I enjoy looking around somewhat as we do, mostly to my left only. When we are done, I wonder whats next, but there is nothing else that follows. I think, "a two course meal?", and then beginning to looking around me, I find myself wanting to talk to someone. I look around still, and eventually find myself almost crouching on my chair. Time passes, not too long in length, and the diners, begin to withdraw. They all do, with James Gandolfini leaving too, before they all leave. I look at him leave. I sit by myself, before one of the teenage boys, comes to me and says, "they are waiting for you." I go out, and find the burly man waiting for me, outside the room we just dined in, and with an open arm away from me, shows me back towards the way, we came in through. Dinner is over, and I find myself back in the car, proceeding home. Before I leave, I notice the restaurant is filled with people, to the brim. I just kinda look at them, as they seem not to notice, anything on the outside. We are then off towards home, and I back to my room.
Its been two weeks, since my arrival in America. Everything is going well so far, at least, that's how I see it. Its an early morning, having found myself up pretty early. I guess I am still excited, with the fact, that I am in America, and not worrying too much, about life. It is 7 a.m., when I hear a sharp rapping on my door. I am actually downstairs, but stop suddenly and simply look at the door. My eyes are widened somewhat, and I carry the glass I was about to fill up with water, with me towards the door. I get to the window nearby, and stand somewhat still near it, and peer glance, out of it. I do not see anything, but I recognize a pick-up truck packed in the driveway. I relax, smile a little, and quickly open the door. Its one of the guys, from the "Joy Club". He looks at me upon my opening the door "smilefully", and says to me upon seeing me, "Get dressed, come down quick." I somewhat hesitate, but decide against further hesitation, by moving slowly somewhat, towards the kitchen, to put back the glass. I stop somewhat at the staircase, wanting to turn around and simply ask many questions. The man, is still standing on the porch looking out, and all my questions, are based on my present hunger state. I decide against it quickly, and quickly dash up the staircase, and back into my room. Ten minutes later, I am back downstairs, and the man is still on the porch. "Come on" he says to me, "we've got to get moving." I somewhat run out and by the time I am out of the door, the man has made his way almost to the car, while I ponder whether to lock the door, or not. I quickly shut it, after the pondering, just to be met by a cry from the man saying, "Lock the door." He then swiftly gets into the pick-up truck. I turn around somewhat, and quickly lock the door and I am surprised at that, as I am usually bad at locking doors. I run up to the truck and openly get into the seat, besides the man. I sit down on the seat, while heaving my chest, somewhat up. I look at the man somewhat and then downwards towards his feet, and back to the front outside. I wonder to myself, if the door is really locked, and I believe that it is. At this moment, the pick-up truck is already reversing and I turn somewhat, to look back, through the elliptical window behind us. We're out on the street fast enough, and I kind of peer at the neighbouring houses, and inside their windows, as we begin to speed up, and drive away. I sit back, and don't say anything, a moment before, I had attempted to hang out my elbow from the window besides me, but it didn't feel right physiologically. Minutes later, about ten, we arrive at a point of location, with no words having been exchanged between us. The man gets out, and begins to walk into a warehouse building, while I having sat back a bit, start upon getting out of the truck too. I follow the man, partly from a distance, and somewhat rapidly from an angle behind him. He gets to the door, to the warehouse like building, and begins to enter it. I am some few moments behind him, from doing the same action, and when I get there soon enough, I can hear the man speaking to someone inside, whom I can't see, but strongly assume to be seated behind a desk. I get to the door and somewhat unconsciously attempt, to look through the spaces, below the hinges, but quickly turn away, as I see myself, walking through the door. I enter somewhat, and I can hear the man say, "The new guy", and the voice says back, which makes me promptly frown, "what new guy?", and the man says again, "The new guy", with an open hand gesture. I walk in, to make myself seen, as I believe they are talking about me. Upon walking in, I promptly and shortly, fold my mouth, in a pouting manner, and then move slightly back with my upper body, as I am taken aback due to the belief that I recognize the man. He upon seeing me, looks down swiftly and folds his mouth somewhat poutingly, and is moving his thumbs together close handed, appearing to be seated, bended on the chair, behind the desk. Blood rushes to me heart, as I feel a warm feeling there of surprise really, as I can truly recognize, that the man, is James Gandolfini. I step back and outwards, still feeling surprised, and wait while looking at the man before me.
The man says, "Okay", and I somewhat believe that James Gandolfini, showed him an open hand while still looking down, with a partly folded mouth. The man turns towards me, and without looking at me, starts to make his way back to the truck, while I stand somewhat aside watching him. As he begins to descend on the car plainly, I somewhat jump up front lowly, and begin to follow him. I get to the truck, as he is getting in, and seat myself back onto the same position, I was in. We drive off to another location I believe, and I am not wrong. Arriving there, I find two other trucks, and some burly Italian-Americans, seated and standing behind the trucks. I can see all this from within the car, as we approach, to a stop. The man quickly gets out, one leg out fast, and I turn to my door, to look swiftly and quickly, for the door latch. I find it, and as I am pulling it, find myself looking outside the window, without paying too much attention. I am out quick too, and make my way to the group, as the man is already there, slowly and appearing hesitantly, in my later point of view. I get there, and as they are talking, I look around and see that there are other Italian-American guys there, with the Joe Perry look, seated and having a conversation with everybody else. I somewhat feel comfortable almost immediately and begin to make my way towards inside but really out of the group. I stand there nearby. Nobody says anything to me. The burly man who collected me from my apartment, stands as if he does not known or recognize me, with his back behind me. So now, I am standing there, and there are some guys smoking and a burly man holding a brew of some sort. I just stand there looking at them, and also trying to become unseeable, by turning to look at the other direction, and back at the guys. Later, much later than I expect, I see a man carry a crate, filled with beer, into the building, which I turn and momentarily recognize, as being a warehouse. I am standing there, with nobody saying anything to me, though I keep looking, at one of the guys, with a Joe Perry look, who is now holding a drink of some sort. Time passes, and I begin to see a pattern, which I don't really recognize until the burly man who drove me here, having turned almost towards me head fast, shoves his hand forwards from me, into a truck loaded with crates. It is then that it hits me, that I am supposed to be at the very least, helping carry the crates inside. I get to the truck nearby, and everybody is standing there, talking while somewhat ignoring each other, and I begin to grab a crate, and somewhat pull it out. "Easy" shouts somewhat the man, with a Joe Perry look. I turn to him and he says, "don't break anything." I begin to see what he means, as the crate is pretty heavy, more heavier than I believed, and big too. But that's America, I say to myself without really thinking, its just big. The crate is heavy, and my biceps are strained, as I begin to somehow and somewhat march, into the warehouse. I do put down the crate before I get to where I should deposit it, once. I put it close down to the rest, which surprisingly, are heaped on to each other. I hear a voice say, as I contemplate, whether to attempt to put the crate on top of the others, "here, let me get that." I turn to see the long haired man, whom I am now silently calling Joe Perry, lift the crate up onto the others. He turns around and looks at me pretty swiftly from the corner of his eyes, as he bends halfway lifting his leg, to somewhat dust his shoes with a slap. He is out and I follow from a distance somewhat. It is obvious, whats going on here to me, as the pattern is recognizable. The guys stand and "seat' around talking to each other indirectly, and once in a while, one picks up a crate, and takes it into the warehouse. I do the same after a while, as the crates are pretty heavy. They are not African crates, is what really crosses my mind. On the second attempt, I carry the crate with a more uplifted force, but as I get to the other crates, with an almost crouching up posture, I hear a voice loudly say, "Just drop it by the side." I do that, with almost an open air of relief, and touch my brow somewhat, to see if I am really sweating, or if just hot. I get out again. Its amazing I think to myself, I like the work pattern here, pretty relaxing, however, my mind turns swiftly to my physical condition. I always believed myself to be somewhat fit. Grew up exercising somewhat too. Even owned Arnold Schwarzenegger's "Education of a Bodybuilder", but I am surprised at my condition still. I thought all the years of temporary exercising, would add up somewhat to something, yet they appear, not to have done so. After carrying in a third crate, I simply decide to chill. Yep, that's what I really do, as a silent inner voice is telling me, "they should have told you about this, I would probably have been ready for it.' But it is a silent voice, and speaks to me, intermittently, as I think my own thoughts. I don't really pay attention to it, but I know it is there, when it shows itself, and affects my moods.
Much later on, having carried no other crate, and having inched close to the group, I am standing close nonchalantly, listening to the guys. I am not keenly listening, as I believe they do not want me to do so, yet I somewhat do, turning to look oftenly, at the man who lifted the crate up for me. I don't hear much I can recognize, and simply stand looking out and across sideways, at the rather empty location. With time, the burly man then turns to me, and says, "Lets get going." I jump up somewhat lowly again, from my leaning position, and quickly I believe somewhat pout my mouth slightly, as if saying back, "okay, if you want to." We get into the truck somewhat simultaneously, as the man twice turns back, to make a point, at another in the group. We are seated into the car, simultaneously, as I keep looking at the man he is talking to. We get going, to a new location. It turns out to be a kind of Villa, in NY, which surprises me, as I tend to envision Villas, belonging in California. The man gets out of the truck, before some huge black gates, and somewhat looks through a peephole, in the gates. I just watch him, and after sometime of looking, gets back in, into the truck, and with a short wait, I find the gates opening. I am shocked, as there is nobody standing there, to open them. I even quickly turn somewhat, as the man peers into his side mirror while driving in, as if looking at whats behind. I look backwards too swiftly, but not openly I believe, seeking out to find, who opened the gates. We get to a garage that fits two cars, straight ahead, and I simply look forward, and somewhat smoothly rub my hands on my pants once, before turning to look at the man. He gets out nonchalantly, and when he gets close to the garage doors, he makes for a door by the side, which I see by peering from the car, goes into the house. He has reached the door and opened it, and then motions me with his arm, to come over. I quickly get out but try, not to be noticeable. The man on the otherhand, simply walks in, leaving the door open. I get there, after a short run I do not really pay attention to, but do so for a slight moment. I walk in. My mind, as that's what I believe I am using, has gone blank. I do not know why, but I believe, it just does not recognize its whereabouts. The Villa, which is what I call it in my mind, before looking around, and noticing it is not really a house, is really well decorated. Really well. I am somewhat amazed and even lost, at what I am feeling, while standing there, but I begin to make my way swiftly to where I can hear the man, talking to another. I get there, and stand close but far, where I can be seen by the man, looking at him, in a very lost manner. "He's here?" says a voice, and the man I came with, turns to look at me, and motions me quickly, to go in. I do so hesitantly, then somewhat quickly and with a wide eye look. I get into the room, which is large, and I cannot call by any known name. It is not really a living room, but looks more like a hall. Standing there before me, shortly unrecognizable to me, but then very recognizable unbelievably, is Danny DeVito. I see him, and want to say hello even, but he simply turns away, with an open somewhat wide eye look, and somewhat folds his mouth, as if about to begin laughing. I just stand there, for I now truly believe, I have absolutely no idea, what is going on. I even turn to the man, first hopefully for an open explanation, but then after shortly, very shortly, for clues to whats going on, as he simply stands there, looking somewhat at Danny DeVito. I stand very silently and DeVito, whom I notice, but almost immediately forget is holding a cigar, turns to the man and says, with a folded smile, which I believe will break into a laugh, "Okay." I fold my mouth almost immediately, as if lurking towards laughing, as I see Danny DeVito, is back to walking sideways upfront me and the other man, still with a lurking smile on his face, that I believe is about to break into a laugh. The man behind me walks out, and I stand there. I can hear him, walking out swiftly, but I turn my gaze back onto Danny DeVito. He on the otherhand, has stopped smiling, and is looking at me big eyed, after lighting his cigar, taking a puff, and turning to me with an open hand gesture, which makes me notice the drifting smoke, and having said, "Well!" I am just startled, as Danny Devito continues simply looking at me big eyed, in the same pose, and it hits me, he is saying, "get the hell out of my house." I somewhat pout my lips, as an "oh!', silently but visibly escapes me, and turn quickly to make way towards the direction, I came from, and charitably, find my way out. I get out and into the view of the man in the truck, almost I believe skidding on the outside, as the man also gestures to me, to close the door. I do so quickly, as if bolting it, and then make my way quickly to the truck. I am in, inside the truck, fast enough I believe, and sitting back on my part of the seat, as the man almost immediately begins, to reverse. The gates are still open again, and as we pass, he waves his hand somewhat, which I look at investigatively and closely, as I wonder what just happened; but then I say to myself, "its some electronic stuff." The gates, begin to close.
We get back to my place, and as I get out, and still hungry although the thought hits me, as we enter the driveway, the man says to me, "Be ready by seven." I jump out quick, as I can see the man is impatient, and almost slam my door, which makes me look concerned afterwards. I get to my front door, take out my keys, put the keys in, open the door, and make my way in. I decide to, rather slowly, while inside, to get some food. I first though, go into the kitchen, to drink some water, but decide against it, while in there, for some unknown reason. I then somewhat run up the stairs to my room, and get inside, and simply start looking around strangely. It hits me, unnoticeably but direct, that I am acting strange, for an unknown reason. I sit on my bed, and get up again. I have no idea, whats going on, I feel really restless, and I decide to go downstairs fast, with a worried look that shows itself, as I get to the bottom of the staircase. I get to the living room, and simply stand there looking around, at a 180 degree angle. I look at the door, and simply stand there, for an unknown reason. I am beginning to get worried, but I am not thinking it. I find myself turning, and stopping at the doorway to the kitchen, but as I decide to make my way in there, and begin to take the first step, I find my self hesitating, and then stopping, as I turn again towards the living room, but take some steps towards it. I then simply stand there, as I am beginning to feel dizzy. I fall to the ground backwards sideways, and then simply lay on my side, as I begin to think, I am moving round, but then lay on my back. I turn to the other side, and lay in a position similar to that a coughing person laying down, will take upon thinking they are choking. I am still feeling dizzy, and I do not why. I begin to panic, I stand up again, and I am pretty sure now, that the ground is spinning under me. I just stand there staring down, as I believe I love spinning, a childhood belief. But this is not a normal spinning, as I feel my shoulder spinning faster, than the rest of my body. I jerk around quickly, and I am back in the same position as before, bending over somewhat. I like the position, as I feel stable in it, and simply stay put. I find myself, getting on my knees and with time, the spinning stops. I look up at the door and get up, before falling down backward almost immediately. I come to, I believe a few moments later, but find out, it is almost two hours later. I am then shocked, not at what just happened I believe, but due to being out or almost out, for two hours. I get up again, and feel somewhat warm and well, and the room looks darker than before. I turn around, and back upstairs to my room, I am somewhat forgetting, what just happened. I get into my room, it looks the same, but darker. It is 3 p.m., and I cannot understand why everything looks dark. I look at my bag, with some of my clothing in it, and set out to look for something to put on. It then slowly hits me, that it is still early. So I sit on my bed, and then lay down back, and just look at the ceiling. I do that while thinking nothing and something nothing, and after a while, I get up and sit on the bed again. I look at my watch, and it says 4 p.m., and I get up, and put on a new t-shirt, and go back downstairs, to watch TV. I am there for another two hours, before I set back upstairs, to prepare myself, for the night. All this time, I have not thought of the night, but as I do, nothing hits or impresses me. In reality, I simply have no thoughts about it. The night arrives, and as promised, the man promptly arrives at seven p.m. I look out of the window, as I hear a car approaching, and I see the man, driving an automobile, of some sort. I do not recognize the automobile, as I am not the kind to recognize American cars, by name. I look at the shape, but don't recognize it, although it looks like a Cadillac to me, an old day Cadillac. I get out, almost excitedly, and wait for the man to pull up. He comes out, and he is well dressed, with a rounded hat, and a suit on, that I have only previously seen, in American movies. He comes out of the automobile, rushes to my front door, as I look on with surprise and concern, as he makes it into my house, while I am still at the window, and heads immediately towards the Kitchen, as he sees me while entering but continues ahead. I hear the taps open and some sound and silence, which I recognize, as the drinking of water, and then see the man walk out pretty quick and say to me, "lets get going." I grab my jacket, it's the same jacket I had on, the only I have, and I make my way to the automobile, with him looking at it, somewhat distastefully, but not really showing it conceivably. I look at the automobile, as I get to it, somewhat hesitating while looking into it, and somewhat attempting to adjust to the different shape, to what I am accustomed to. I grab the door latch, and make out to pull it, but the man has slid towards the side, and pulled it from the inside, which makes my attempt to pull it, futile. I almost fall backwards slightly I believe, but then re-adjust myself, and get into the automobile, before proceeding to actually pull back the open door. I do, slamming it, but wishing not to have done so. The man looks downwardly nonchalantly, with an almost open look, on his face. I just sit back, comfortably, for the automobile, feels like a plane to me. "Ready?!" he asks and says, and I simply nod severally, while turning to look at him. He puts the key, into the automobiles starter, turns it, the automobile vrooms, and we begin to move backwards slowly, resulting in the same feeling one gets, in a slowly moving plane. We are out and off quicker than I think, and arrive at a destination, pretty soon, but later, as I only concentrate, on the feel of the automobile, as we go along. We arrive at a posh restaurant, without a name. I get out, there are some people out there, and I become pretty conscious. I don't know why, but they are white people, and I feel conscious. I get out, and see a group, amongst a group of many, at a nearing neighbouring restaurant, appearing to be talking with each other, consisting of two men, and one woman. One man, with his back towards me, turns to look at me, and then turns away. I keep going, but feel the womans eyes, on me. The burly man, has already reached the door, and is standing there holding it open, it's a side door into the restaurant, which has a dining extension on the outside, and simply says to me as I hesitate, "get in". I do, almost promptly, and stand looking around, wondering where to go. He taps the behind of one of my arms once, and I begin to follow him, to the backside of the restaurant. We get in there and into a room, that serves as a hallway, before going back further, into a small hallway, hard to explain, as it is all American to me, and finally, into a back door, at the very back. We get in there, and it is a room, with a small uplifting at the front, and set in there, are tables making a U. A rectangular U. "Sit in there" says the man, as he meanders over, to another door, which I simply believe leads to the Kitchen, as I hear voices and some clashing of steel I believe. I head towards the tables, and find myself choosing a chair, at one of the joints, of the rectangular U. I sit there, trying not to disturb anything. I hear voices again, and the burly man comes out of the same door he went into, followed by another man, whom he appears to have given instructions to. The man appears to be Latino, and at another place and time probably, I would have attempted to nod head him up, as a greeting, but I am actually now feeling Italian. The burly man continues on, to another door, as the Latino man, goes out through the door we originally came in through. I just sit there, and wait. I decide to get up once, but decide against it almost immediately. I am not sure how long I am there, as I no longer really think of time, but soon enough, I hear voices, coming through the first door, that which we came in through. The first person through, is James Gandolfini, which surprises me a lot. There is a little boy with him, whom he directs towards the Kitchen, and as he does so, looks up to me and says, "How you doin' " solemnly. I lift up my hand, in a small hello, and shake my head once down recognizable, while saying "fine!" He goes in, to the Kitchen. I sit back on my chair, and feel nervous, I release a shallow breathe. Later on, people begin to pour in, they are all Italian-Americans, burly, and they make it to the Kitchen too. I just sit there and wonder whats going on, they all look at me, as they go in. Some time later, not too much later, the man whom I came with, says to me while forwarding me from the Kitchen door, "Come!", without looking at me, and I instantaneously get up, and follow him within. I have an open smile somewhat on my face, but it is wider, in my mind. I go in, walking slowly, as the man is holding the door from within, and as I walk, he walks by me at a length, and again shows me by open hand, into another room. In there, is a dining, set to begin. I immediately see the huge dome, often seen in American movies, and I believe I know, there is meat under there, without really obviously smelling it. "Take a seat", the man says while standing at the door, there is a rectangular U table in there too, and I seek out the same position, as before. There are couple of kids and teenagers, meddling with each other, on one side of the room. I get in there and simply sit, with no one really paying attention to me, with the exception of one kid, who looks at me, and then shortly looks way. I sit there looking closely at the ceiling distantly, and soon enough, there is a commotion at the door, and I look there, to see James Gandolfini, and others, walk into the room. They are mostly older teenagers. I don't know what to say, but I do notice, they are mostly older teenagers. I don't really like older teenagers myself, I don't know why, and therefore find myself concentrating, on James Gandolfini. He sits at the center of the U table, and I remain where I am seated. Everybody else takes their seats, and somewhat unconsciously, I feel prompted to get up again, and take my seat again too. I just sit there, for some reason, I expect James Gandolfini, to talk to me. He does not, and mostly talks to the others, while I am starting to feel real awkward. I don't show it though, and somewhat believe the feeling will go away soon, enough, but I still find myself staring at times and somewhat, at James Gandolfini. Soon enough again, another man, whom I identify as Mexican, comes in pushing another tray with a dome in it, while pushing away, that which is standing there. I wait apprehensively, and he stands there momentarily and then opens the dome. There is a big Turkey in there, and I let out a smile within me. I love Chicken, and I can't wait to get eating, as I am starting now, to feel famished. Dinner is served, so to speak, and I get my serving of Turkey soon enough. I can't wait to get eating, as I am really hungry I agree, but can feel other eyes on me, at the moment. I look up from my dish, to find everybody looking down, at theirs. The food is all served, there is Turkey, mashed potatoes, some syrup I look at eagerly as it is passed around, and some little greens. I sense some eyes on me disapprovingly, and notice the Mexican man, somewhat look at me, with an almost disbelieving look. I just make an open face expression, noticeable only to those who have been looking at me, and look around me. James Gandolfini, is talking to a kid by him, telling him, to fasten up his tie. I just look at my dish, and somewhat swallow, the syrup gets to me, I pour what I believe is adequate and pass it on lookingly, to the next person. We begin to eat. I cut up the Turkey, without remorse, although I do picture a Turkey within my mind. Some Turkey cut up, hanging on my folk, some mashed potatoes with syrup, placed on the opening of the fork, and away to my mouth. A warm feeling gushes through me, as I chew and notice, how sweet it all is, that upon really looking up from chewing, I somewhat recognize, that I am really in America. This goes on, with me feeling the blood draining from my face, and occasional looks on my part, at James Gandolfini. The dinner is finished up, and I am wondering whats next, as everybody is still seated with a serious face on, while my face somewhat openly beams. Another meal is brought in, this time served, as they do, on airlines. It turns out to be some Pasta. I look at it, and the word Italian, simply lights up in my mind. I just wait, and when everything is set ready, which takes ample time not too long, as we have to hand in our former dishes, in exchange for the new. We are seated again and ready, for what I promptly refer to in my mind, as the second course. Everybody somewhat begins to eat, and I have a red source and a white cream in front of me. I look up at everybody else, but they are busy talking to each other, as they place napkins, around their necks. I look at mine, and I am thinking of doing like wise, but decide to place it after a brief tryout on my neck, on my lap. As I sit there, debating on how to begin, I find my hand begin to move towards the red sauce. It is shortly stopped afterwards, by a voice which I recognize as being James Gandolfinis saying, "You cannot put the red sauce, on the pasta." I look up at him surprised, and wonders what he could mean, I look back at the setting before me, and my mind goes blank for a while, and when I come back, I am thinking for some unknown reason, of dipping the pasta, onto the red sauce. I look up slowly again, mostly if not totally, towards James Gandolfini, and he says upon my reaching his gaze, "Here, show him", at what appears, to be the kid next to him. The young guy next to me, takes the red sauce, and practically throws it, into the white cream, and mixes it all together. I somewhat smile to myself, before he pours it out all for me, onto my pasta. I look at the pasta, as he does so, and when he is almost done, recline on my chair briefly, while looking up around me, and concernedly, at James Gandolfini. We begin to it, and I notice that I am not good at eating Pasta, I am afraid I will drop something. I take a bite and then two, and notice how really good, it all tastes. I thought Spaghetti with Ketchup, was pretty good, but this is actually really really good. The dish is done in an appropriate time, as chewing Pasta, does take time too. I enjoy looking around somewhat as we do, mostly to my left only. When we are done, I wonder whats next, but there is nothing else that follows. I think, "a two course meal?", and then beginning to looking around me, I find myself wanting to talk to someone. I look around still, and eventually find myself almost crouching on my chair. Time passes, not too long in length, and the diners, begin to withdraw. They all do, with James Gandolfini leaving too, before they all leave. I look at him leave. I sit by myself, before one of the teenage boys, comes to me and says, "they are waiting for you." I go out, and find the burly man waiting for me, outside the room we just dined in, and with an open arm away from me, shows me back towards the way, we came in through. Dinner is over, and I find myself back in the car, proceeding home. Before I leave, I notice the restaurant is filled with people, to the brim. I just kinda look at them, as they seem not to notice, anything on the outside. We are then off towards home, and I back to my room.
