Chapter 3 - Life after Argos
I arrived home at 9.30 a.m. and told my wife the office had an emergency power outage last night and everyone would have to work from home until further notice. I still hoped Becky would call by Monday to let me know I could return to work the next day. I wasn’t feeling good and didn’t do much that day except for lying around and sleeping. Coincidently, my stepdad, Milan, sold his businesses and wired me some money a few weeks ago. I told Romana about the money and said that I would like to go to the Czech Republic to personally thank him. She did not believe me and accused me of making the whole thing up.
“Joseph, stop telling me this story over and over again. Calm down! Are you on drugs?”
“Weird, this is the first time I am telling her about this. I don’t remember ever mentioning this to her before and I am calm. What is she talking about?” I wondered, then went back to bed and tried to find an explanation to what she just said.
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In the afternoon, I received a text message from 6 Degrees Group, the employment agency that found the indirect tax position at Argos: “Hello, Joseph. You can no longer work at Argos. Please call me when you can to discuss further opportunities.”
At the back of my mind this situation became a real possibility after the way I acted the previous day. “I better be honest with Romana and tell her what happened,” I thought. “Hopefully, she will give me a break and will let me go to Czech Republic for a few days.”
I was little too optimistic, but had to tell her anyway. “Romana, honey, I have to tell you something. I just found out that I was fired, but don’t worry, I’ll quickly find something else. This job was temp to perm anyway and I never received the offer. So, who cares, right?”
“What just happened?” my wife asked. “Didn’t you just get fired about eight months ago from the other job? What’s wrong with you? So, I should be the only one that held a stable job for the past ten years? Do you think it is easy to be a flight attendant? You think it is, right? You just use my flight benefits to fly around the world first class for free. That’s over with.”
I did not try to stop her because she was clearly very upset and needed to vent her anger.
“You better find something quick, otherwise I will find somebody else; someone more dependable than you!!”
I tried to calm her down as much as possible. “Romana, I am truly sorry. Don’t worry, I will find something else and I promise you, the job is going to be even better than the one before. We’ll get through this and you know why? Because I love you. We were always able to get through tough times together because we love each other.”
She interrupted me and said, “I don’t love you anymore. You are just making my life miserable.”
Romana almost started to cry and I wanted to comfort her, so I hugged and kissed her. “Don’t worry about it, your life and our kids’ lives will not change at all. I’ll make it happen and just need one small favor. Please book me a flight to Prague. I would like to thank my stepdad and will be back in a few days.”
“Are you crazy?” she replied in a surprised way. “You just lost your job and you want to go on a vacation? You’re not going anywhere, because you’re going to find work as soon as possible.”
I didn’t want to argue with her anymore and agreed to start looking for work shortly. Again, I did not feel good, I had a headache, my eyes started to hurt, I had chest pains and difficulty concentrating. I had to go back to bed.
When I woke up, it was just the right time to eat dinner. I felt better and my wife and the kids and I had dinner together.
After the kids fell asleep, Romana wanted to know why I was fired. “I need to know what happened at work. Why did you get fired?”
I didn’t know what to say, no excuse was prepared. Maybe it would be best if I told her the truth. “Well, Romana, I don’t know how to say this, but at work, I was having lunch with three women for the past eight months on a fairly consistent basis. We started to flirt a little bit.”
“You did what? You started to flirt with them? Did you also sexually harass them?”
“No, I would never do anything like that. You know me, come on, Romana. We have been married for ten years, now.”
I realized too much had been said. Regardless, I tried to talk my way out of this mess, but Romana began to speak in an angry way again.
“Because we are swingers doesn’t mean you will disrespect me like this behind my back. You know I don’t really care if you flirt with women or not, but at work they can easily sue you and your career would be over. Don’t you know how the women are in this country?”
I quickly replied, “I am sorry, but the women flirted with me and especially this woman of Russian descent. She was wearing a short skirt and kept pointing her naked legs towards me on numerous occasions. I screwed up because one time she asked me what I like about Russian women. At that time, I didn’t know she was Russian, and joked with her that many Russian women are great strippers. I think her boss, Mark, got upset because he saw me and her having lunch many times.”
Romana was looking at me with her mouth and eyes wide open. She said, “You are an idiot. Even if the woman was sitting there naked, you should have never looked at her. Do you get it now? Do you get it?”
“Oh really?” I replied. “Find me a guy who would not look at a naked woman that was having lunch with him. You know what you are? You are a hypocrite, because something like this would never happen. If Ronnee was sitting there naked, every guy that walked by would stop, stare at her and get an instant hard-on! Listen to yourself, you don’t make any sense at all. I feel like shit and I’m going to bed. Have a great rest of the evening.”
Romana did not try to stop me. I didn’t see her until the next day.
I wanted to figure out what was actually going on. Was it the “Reality TV” or the “Matrix” or the “Heaven vs Hell” scenario?
Another idea entered my mind again; the original idea I’d thought of while getting sick at Argos. The NSA somehow found out about the unusual event that happened between me and Ronnee during the lunch on December 12 2016. The agency somehow drugged me with some sort of truth serum to make me hallucinate. I came to the conclusion my whole house and all electronic gadgets, including cars, were bugged with surveillance equipment. The agency also forced Romana, my kids, the rest of my family and my friends to cooperate with them. My family was instructed to drive me mad. On certain occasions, they had to mix words into sentences that did not make any sense at all. I realized that I couldn’t do anything out of the ordinary; like trying to complain to the authorities or debug the house and cars. If I did anything crazy like that, I would be locked up for good in a mental institution. I would then be subjected to all kinds of medical experiments. I therefore kept calm and came up with the following plan: to slowly destroy all cell phones and anything that has a screen, such as the TV and iPad. We would buy new gadgets free of any bugs. I had to make the destruction look like an accident and promised myself not to give the agency any excuse to take me away from my wife and kids. It was close to midnight and I was finally able to fall asleep.
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The next morning, on January 20 2017, I tried to put the plan into action, but didn’t know where to begin. Should I first destroy the cell phones? If yes, then how? For some odd reason Romana was constantly on her phone, even during our conversation. “She’s definitely reporting all my activities to the agency. What am I going to do? No matter what, the key is to remain calm! I’ll pretend a TV remote control is lost. I’ll then be ‘forced’ to pull up a small chair in front of the TV so I can reach the shelves mounted close to the ceiling. I’ll find the remote, accidentally slip and catch the TV with my hand. This will definitely look like an accident,” I thought, and I did just that as my wife was in the kitchen, able to witness the event. I grabbed the TV as I was falling towards the floor and it fell on my right foot. I seized the moment and started to scream. “Great,” I thought to myself. “I’ll pretend I’m injured, so Romana will take me to the hospital and there will be more witnesses to the accident.”
I kept screaming and telling Romana my foot hurt. She didn’t see anything wrong, as the foot was not swollen or bruised.
“I have to make this believable or my life as I know it is over,” I said to myself, then thought about the worst possible pain imaginable. As I was looking at my toe and replaying in my head the worst possible “pain” images of the Holocaust and the concentration camp victims, the toe started to get blue.
“You see, I’m injured. Take me to the hospital now!!” I screamed at my wife. I was so happy this had happened. I continued to act; I grabbed my cell phone and broke it in half, all while screaming in pain. Romana realized this was serious, called Delta, and took the weekend off. We drove to the WellStar clinic, about two miles from our house.
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When we parked in front of the clinic, I told Romana I was unable to walk. A nurse brought a wheelchair and wheeled me inside. I frantically breathed and my head was hurting; this was not an act, this was for real. Oddly enough, there was always one good and one bad nurse. The “good” nurse was communicative, sympathetic to my injuries and sporadically smiled at me. The “bad” nurse was the exact opposite. She didn’t look at me, was not smiling and was not communicative at all. She only said one sentence: “If you don’t get well soon, we will have to transfer you somewhere else.”
When she said this, I knew something was wrong. “I have to slowly improve, so Romana can take me home. If I simulate the injury too much, I will not be believed and the doctors will think I’m crazy,” I thought, and proceeded with next steps.
I asked for a water and slowly went to a bathroom, then came back and told Romana I felt much better. The foot wasn’t injured, but I was diagnosed with a panic attack episode. My wife and I waited in the lobby for the discharge papers. It was close to noon. Trump’s inauguration was being broadcast live on the TV hanging above the seats. A Black woman next to me was watching the broadcast and I thought she probably was not happy with the winner. “Why not make her feel better about the defeat?” I thought. I told her the following: “You know it doesn’t matter who wins. They’re the same crooks, Trump and Hillary, and nothing will change. They are both liars.” My wife told me to be quiet and we left the hospital shortly after.
Upon arrival at our house, Romana and I had a few disagreements regarding my work situation and the plane tickets to Prague. I kept to myself for the rest of the day.
On Saturday morning, January 21, I went with my wife and kids to Sam’s Club on Cobb Parkway to buy a new TV. I also had a plan to see an eye doctor to buy some colored contact lenses to hide pupil dilation. The eye problem was worsening and I didn’t want to let anyone know about it. At the store, I could not concentrate at all and picked the cheapest 42-inch TV with built-in Roku internet entertainment.
My vision had greatly improved, the colors and people at the store looked different than normal. I was able to see the individual skin pores of every person that passed by me. The brightness of the TV screens on display were out of this world. My vision was similar to the other night, when I drove through the ghetto. I was not able to take it anymore and sat down on a couch close to the cash registers. “This is astonishing. It looks like everybody is walking slower than normal and people at cash registers are removing items from carts at a slower rate, as well,” I said to myself, then saw a drop of water falling from the ceiling. All details of the water drop were visible as it was falling in front of me. The drop fell on the floor and made a splash. Falling drops of water are truly magnificent when watched at slower speed. My visual abilities were amazing, but scary at the same time. “The agency can’t find out about this.” I reminded myself to keep cool, to be myself, no matter what. It was too late to see the eye doctor, but we bought the TV, had pizza, then left the store.
After lunch, I went to Sope Creek Park by myself. My visual abilities remained enhanced, and so I thought, “Why not do a few tests?” I drove to the park, which is about two miles from the house. This particular area is great as it is a protected natural reserve. There are the ruins of an old mill, way over a hundred years old. It is fun to explore the banks of Sope Creek. In the early 2000s, I almost followed the creek all the way to the Chattahoochee River. The terrain at the shores became unpassable to continue without getting wet.
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The woods looked more beautiful than I could have ever imagined. I was able to see the individual cones on pine trees a few hundred yards away from me. The branches at the top of the trees in front of me were the same sharpness as branches located several hundred feet behind the first row of the trees. The bark looked like it was under a microscope. Each tree looked alive. Each pine straw, cone, and tree crown itself was moving slowly in perfect harmony as the wind played its magic. I was in a fairy tale and couldn’t get enough of the view. The water of the pond was crystal clear, with small rainbows appearing right above the waterline at different times. I placed an empty coffee cup on the ground and walked to the other side of the pond, then focused on the cup from a distance of about 150–200 feet. The longer I looked, the closer and sharper the cup appeared. As the cup was moving closer, at a certain point I had to stop focusing because of the pain in my eyes. I was able to repeat this experiment several times with the same results. Never in my life had I had this zooming ability and I wished the pain would disappear for me to zoom even further. Unfortunately, I was no hawk and the pain remained. Nevertheless, I was plenty happy with the newly discovered ability. The eye pain was getting worse, so I focused on small objects such as leaves, grass, and my wedding ring, with eyes almost closed. This helped to lower the pain and my vision returned close to normal.
After my playtime at the park was over, I drove to the T-Mobile store on Roswell Road/Highway 120. The health symptoms I’d experienced through the week at different intervals appeared again. I was dizzy, tired, and couldn’t concentrate anymore. My eyes started to hurt again. Shopping for a new phone became a nightmare. Since my eyes were so light-sensitive, I wanted a phone with an OLED display. That stands for Organic Light Emitting Diode and is much healthier for your eyes than LCD, especially at a close distance. There was a slight problem; I couldn’t remember the specifications of more than one phone at a time. I must have been there for way more than an hour and kept going back and forth among the available phones. The employees were looking at me funny. “I better make a decision quick. They’re thinking I’m high,” I thought, and quickly settled on ZTE; an unknown Chinese model that was less than $200.00.
The cashier looked almost exactly like my stepbrother, Patrik, who lives in the Czech Republic. “Interesting, I never saw anyone with such a resemblance. Could this be an agent? They are probably trying to trick me so an ambulance is called. There would be enough witnesses to tell my wife I acted weird. I am not going to say anything unusual to that person,” I thought.
The cashier, “Patrik”, was very helpful and way friendlier than a normal cashier. “You picked a great phone. It has the same features as your 700-dollar phone, including a fingerprint technology. I don’t understand why more people don’t buy it,” he said.
I wanted to make him laugh, so I pulled out an empty wallet and made a joke. “If I had a five-dollar and a hundred-dollar bill in here, which one do you think I would give you?”
He smiled and replied, “The five-dollar one.”
“You’re wrong,” I continued, “I would give you the hundred-dollar bill, because you saved me a hell of a lot of money today. Push this phone and it will happen with the next customer.”
We both laughed and I left the store feeling happy.
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After lunch, Romana took a nap. The girls wanted to rollerblade and ride their bicycles in front of the house. It was a cloudy day and the temperature was unusually warm for January. We wore short-sleeved shirts, and shorts. My mind began to race with ideas. “Who can control the weather like this? Who is able to input unusual items and experiences directly into my mind?”
I remembered the weather was unusually cold about two weeks ago. In Maggie Valley, North Carolina, I experienced the coldest weather in the Southeast in the past twenty-three years. As we were approaching the ski slopes, the car’s thermometer displayed one degree Fahrenheit.
“What if I am in the Matrix?” I kept thinking and looking at the cloudy sky. The rainclouds were moving at faster than normal pace and it was so warm. The birds were flying and singing all around us. “Oh no, I am really in the Matrix, and about to be awoken to help the surviving people living underground to fight the AI machines. On second thought, I would rather stay in the Matrix and live quietly with my family. I don’t care if the world is real or not. I like my life here. Why should I help to save the world that no longer exists?” I was brainstorming at faster and faster speed. “But what about the ‘real’ people that need my help? I can’t say no to them.” With tears in my eyes, I realized I had no choice but to be awoken from the Matrix. “To wake up out of the Matrix I have to fall asleep next to my wife, knowing I will awake in a filthy underground refugee camp. My family will no longer exist at that place. They were just part of a software package uploaded into my brain to keep my real body functioning.”
As the thoughts were racing in my head, Teresa looked at me and said, “Daddy, go back to the house and fall asleep next to Mommy.”
This confirmed my worst nightmare was the reality. I slowly went to the house. Teresa and Julia wanted to stay downstairs and play, so I hugged and kissed them for the last time to say my final goodbye. My body was shaking, a few silent tears dropped. I opened the bedroom door and turned around to see the kids for the last time. Romana was fully asleep and I screamed as loud as possible.
Romana quickly woke up. “What is wrong with you? Why are you screaming? Go to bed and get some rest!!”
She walked out of the bedroom, upset she had been abruptly awakened. I calmed myself down and thought, “The rule was to fall asleep next to my wife. Well, my wife is now gone and maybe the real people realized I am not yet ready to leave the Matrix. Additional training will be needed before the awakening.” I was falling asleep while comforting myself in this manner.
I awoke in the real world or the Matrix or whatever you want to call it at this point, as my body and mind were present in the bedroom and the surroundings had not changed.
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That evening, Teresa and I went to a father/daughter dance held at East Valley Elementary School. “Cool, at least I’ll be able to take some pictures and videos with the new phone.” I felt OK but still was not able to concentrate very well. “I better stay close to Teresa and focus on taking pictures, so nobody notices anything unusual about me.”
I did just that, danced with Teresa, and took a lot of pictures and videos. My vision remained enhanced and I had no problem focusing on the phone screen while taking the videos. It appeared that my brain was able to process more information at the same time than ever before. I was able to focus on and process not only information from the phone screen, but on all the people who were dancing around me. “Do I now have the ability to slow time? Can I comprehend time differently than everybody else?” This reminded me of the falling drop of water I experienced earlier in the day. This was so cool, because I saw events at a slower pace, but was able to react to them at the same speed as everybody else. “Unbelievable, that’s what I call competitive advantage! What is this? How did this happen? Who is doing this to me?” I was amazed but again scared at the same time. “What is really going on? Is this ‘Reality TV,’ ‘Heaven vs Hell,’ the ‘Matrix,’ or the ‘Paranoid NSA’? Which one is it?” I thought in greater and greater speed.
Due to the uncertainty, my breathing increased, I had chest pains and was fatigued. I talked to Teresa and my friend Zack who also attended this event with his older daughter. His kids were the same age as mine and our families became good friends.
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At home, I was relieved the event had ended as I wanted to forget about everything and go to bed as fast as possible. It became impossible to solve the riddles that night. “It would feel really good to close my eyes,” I thought. I heard a loud noise and my younger daughter, Julia, began to cry. I ran downstairs as fast as I could.
Romana was comforting Julia, but she kept crying.
“I hope this is just an accident and the agency did not force Romana to do this, to make me angry,” I thought. I wanted to find out the truth and calmly asked my wife, “Romana, what happened and what was the noise? Look at her, she keeps frantically crying.”
“She fell from a stool and hit her back,” was her answer.
I wanted to make sure she was OK and hadn’t broken any bones. There was large blue mark in the middle of her back. “We better take her to the hospital. This doesn’t look good,” I said in disbelief.
Romana turned her head towards me and said, “Let’s wait a few minutes. I think she will be OK.”
“This doesn’t look good, but let’s see if she is able to walk.” I finished the conversation.
To my relief, Julia was able to walk and didn’t lose any ability to move whatsoever. I seriously believed the agency had something to do with this and within a few minutes became tired again. The unusual events that happened this week started to mix in together. “I have to fall asleep as soon as possible to protect myself and the family. Nobody, regardless of the scenarios, will be able to mess with me anymore,” I thought, as I was falling asleep.
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On Sunday, January 22nd, my wife and kids wanted to go to Woodruff Arts Center in the afternoon. My sister, her husband, and my nephew would be there as well.
Conversation during breakfast was unusual. Again, Romana and the kids started to mix words that didn’t make much sense into sentences. Both kids were looking away while speaking with me. I therefore kept to myself as much as possible.
After breakfast, I needed a few minutes of quiet time and drove to Town Center mall to buy some new shirts. I hoped eventually my wife would let me fly to Prague.
The ride to the mall was unusual. I sat at an intersection waiting for the light to turn green and saw that people waiting in front of me were changing their minds on where to go, one by one. There might have been about eight cars, but I ended up third in line by the time the light turned green. This happened again at the next intersection. A black SUV followed me at close distance. Once the car turned and drove away another black SUV pulled right behind me. I heard planes and helicopters flying above me at close distance. “This better not be the agency,” I said, and hoped the cars were just coincidences and the unusually high flight activity was perhaps an exercise in progress at the Dobbins Air Force base, located about five miles from my house.
I parked close to the mall’s entrance doors as it had just opened. It was a rainy Sunday and most people were in church or had slept in. The lights, TV screens, surrounding objects, and people looked way sharper than normal; the enhanced vision had come back. Products didn’t interest me because I was unable to concentrate. I kept walking around the corridors, food court, and different stores observing what people were doing. The eyes of each passing person were larger than normal and I was able to see much deeper and in greater detail into their eyes than ever before. Everyone who looked directly into my face was smiling. “I am definitely in a different world, way different from anything I ever experienced before. I was fired because I reacted to unusual events in an unusual way; everyone was told to go fuck themselves. This action produced the associated reaction.”
I concluded, no matter what the circumstances are, I cannot react to them in an unusual way. The perspective of the world I lived in was changing to more extremes with each passing day. I was experiencing the following symptoms daily at different intervals; enhanced vision, conversations that at certain times did not make much sense, change in time perception, difficulty concentrating, short-term memory gaps, unusual surveillance and traffic activities.
Déjà vu happened during the drive home; the airplane and especially helicopter noises were louder than before, black cars and SUVs were following me at close distance. Cars at the intersections were going elsewhere one by one. I almost panicked and wanted to drive home as fast as possible. At the last minute, I realized this would not solve anything at all. It would only worsen the problems since my actions would create reactions. Little I knew of any upcoming surprises and figured out I have to abide by this rule going forward: No matter what I do, I cannot win. My only chance of survival is to play this “game” and act like an actor until I figure out what is really going on.
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I struggled to stay positive and joked to myself as my thoughts switched to a friend of mine, Rob Rosen, who in the early 2000s moved from Atlanta to Los Angeles to become a movie star. He was a dreamer who never had a steady job. The last time we saw each other was in Los Angeles in 2007. At that time my construction business was falling apart and I had massive debt of almost 80,000 dollars. With little income, bankruptcy was inevitable. At least my wife had a steady job working for the airlines. During the trip we had a lot of fun; went to a gym daily, ate good food and talked about our lives and girls. It was the classic “locker room” talk. He took me to Gold’s Gym in Venice where Arnold Schwarzenegger began his bodybuilding career and the Pumping Iron (1977) movie was filmed. I was not able to concentrate and breathe regularly during that workout. I had tremendous respect for the place and every piece of equipment that I touched, as strange feelings overwhelmed my body. I knew it would not get any better than this, because I was on sacred ground. Arnold and Sylvester were my role models when I lived in Czechoslovakia and were the main reason why I got into bodybuilding in the mid-1990s. I worked out at Marietta High School during the week and at the Scottish Inn motel on weekends. The motel manager, who was my mom’s boyfriend at the time, had a small private gym in one of the rooms. My life had meaning and I was able to stay away from drugs and alcohol during the difficult times. Both Arnold and Sylvester indirectly saved my life.
During this trip Rob came up with a crazy and at the same time brilliant idea.
“Joseph, I have a great idea where we can make some extra money. I know you love pussy. How would you like to act in a porn movie? Come on, it’ll be fun,” Rob said, and I looked at him like he was insane.
“Act where?” I asked. This idea had also entered my mind in the past, but I’d never acted on it. I kind of liked what I was hearing and kept quiet.
“Yeah, in a porno. I always wanted to do it but I’m too shy and don’t wanna go to the place by myself. There is an agency not too far from my house. Come on, Joseph, let’s go there and see what happens,” he said.
I knew this was not going to work out anyway. “The porn industry is looking for girls. They already have plenty of guys that are willing to do anything to be in the porn business. Also, the size of my dick is average, nobody wants to see average,” I thought to myself, but decided not to spoil the fun moment. I said to Rob, “Why not? It’ll be fun and I need the cash anyway.”
Rob was ecstatic and we immediately drove to the agency’s office. I was not surprised when a beautiful woman told us that the agency was not looking for males at this time. She smiled to herself. It appeared she was clearly amused and entertained by how courageous we were to follow our dreams.
As we walked out of the office, Rob was clearly disappointed and said, “That’s bullshit. I thought at least they would invite us for an audition. My dick is the right size and I can fuck.”
“Rob, don’t worry about it. It will definitely happen next time. Just don’t give up,” I said, to comfort him.
I continued driving home while obeying all traffic laws. When I finished replaying the memories of the California trip in my head, I said to myself, “If I see something unusual, why not call myself ‘The Hollywood Rob.’ This will definitely remind me not to do anything stupid and to stay calm, no matter what.”
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I was happy there were no more surprises waiting for me at home. The kids, however, were behaving strangely. They both religiously adhered to the “good kid vs bad kid” scenario and were not looking at me during a conversation. This continued until the whole family was ready to go to Woodruff Arts Center. We entered the car and the kids started to provoke me again. I turned around and said in a strong voice, “Be quiet, I’ve had enough of this today!”
My wife looked at me like she had no idea why I’d said this. “Why are you yelling at them? Who do you think you are?”
“What am I?” I said. I paused for a while and continued, “I am their father. They have been driving me nuts for the past several days!”
“Get out of the car right now. You were driving me nuts for the past week. On top of that, you had the balls to tell me that you were flirting with women at work and that you were fired because of that. Get out now!!!” she said.
I exited the car, greatly disappointed, and realized I broke the number one rule; I have to stay calm, no matter what. “I am ‘The Hollywood Rob’ who should act to win the Academy Award and not react to unusual circumstances. The house and cars are most likely under surveillance and the agency is waiting for an excuse to take me away against my will.” As soon as I finished the sentence, Romana drove back to pick me up. Everyone in the car was silent. I entered the car and kept quiet until we reached the Woodruff Arts Center in downtown Atlanta.
Once we met with my sister Milli, her husband Jonathan, and their son, Asa, some of the symptoms reappeared again. I had the enhanced vision, was sensitive to light, accompanied by light eye pain, and had difficulties concentrating. I was in a good mood because the kids and Romana behaved normally. They were no longer mixing unusual words into sentences.
The arts center organized an interactive event for small children and their parents. A woman in her mid-thirties played a flute and a man of similar age played a bass instrument. They would stop at certain intervals to ask the children questions related to the instruments. There were about ten children ranging from two years to roughly eight years old, accompanied by their parents. My family and I were sitting on the floor in the second row. As I was looking at the woman, interesting thoughts occupied my mind. “She reminds me of the movie, American Pie. It’s like, one time in band camp, I stuck a flute. . . She is good-looking. I wouldn’t mind having a ‘play day’ with her. She certainly wouldn’t mind if I offered my assistance to insert the instrument somewhere else besides her mouth.”
At that moment, my time perception changed as time slowed down again. The flutist slightly jumped up and down from her chair then closed her eyes, looked down and slightly opened her mouth to exhale. “Wow, she is getting excited. Maybe I have something to do with this. Somehow, I am able to influence her bodily functions :-) because I’m in the Matrix and the real people who will awake me in the near future would like to have some fun. Great, no harm done. Nobody in the room will know what I’m doing,” I thought, and continued to think while looking at the woman, my eyes did not blink at all. “This is my The Witches of Eastwick game. You are slowly getting wetter and warmer down there. The sensations are increasing until you will not be able to take it anymore.”
Both the woman and the man continued to play until intermission. He presented his questions to the children and the woman breathed heavily and was looking down to her right away from the audience. She kept slightly moving her legs from one side to the other. It looked like she was trying to find a comfortable sitting position because something down there bothered her. I noticed two older men in black suits were approaching the musicians simultaneously, one from each side. I did not completely rule out the NSA scenario, even after I was pretty sure my mind and body were in the Matrix. I reminded myself of “The Hollywood Rob” rule. “I better stop it right now! If she reaches climax, the agents may take me away for questioning.” I was well aware what happened to Ronnee at the lunch on December 15 2016. She was pretty loud and obvious when this happened to her. I did not want to raise any suspicions and spoke with my family for the rest of the event. I periodically glanced at the woman, who was doing just fine, and her “symptoms” went away completely. Oddly enough, right after I started to socialize with my family, the “agents” went back to the other end of the room and my time perception went back to normal.
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I had so much fun with the female musician that I did not bother to figure out the right scenario. My brother-in-law, Jonathan, had a great time as well. We talked about work, camping, and smoking weed. He was in a good mood and it appeared he had smoked something before the event. He had slow reactions and laughed at everything I told him. I joked about being fired a few days ago and how women in general make my life difficult.
“I can’t live with them and can’t live without them. Let’s go camping to Ellaville since I have all this free time. Let’s make it a guys’ trip so we can have some real fun shooting guns,” I said.
“That sounds like a lot of fun, let’s do it,” he said, and smiled.
I always liked going camping to South Georgia. Jonathan’s dad owns about 200 acres of land, consisting of field, surrounded by forest for three-quarters of the perimeter. There is a pond and the ruins of an old house located in the middle of the forest. My favorite activity, besides camping, is “drive by shooting”; all kinds of targets such as paper figurines are placed around the outer perimeter of the field. One person drives a pick-up truck and the others sit on a flatbed trying to do as much damage as possible. In the past few years, we hadn’t done much shooting at all. We started to bring our small children with us and didn’t want to endanger or bother them with loud noises.
​
I was in a good mood and didn’t experience any unusual symptoms. As we were walking downstairs from the first floor to exit the building, I noticed one “agent” continued to stare at me.
I overcame my fears and asked him a question: “It is a beautiful day today, isn’t it?”
“It sure is,” he answered, in a dry and suspicious tone of voice.
It sounded like he was trying to get more information out of me. I did not say anything else and just kept walking toward the exit. I played with the kids as much as possible at a playground located in front of the building. I went to all the slides and attractions where an adult person could fit.
“Guys, come on over,” I yelled at the adult members of my family, but nobody came.
After the fun with the kids, I tried to loosen up my wife to help her forget I was fired a few days ago. It would be nice to see her smile. “Come on, have some fun! I will fix everything up. You know women, they’re giving me a hard time at work and at home.” Romana smiled a little but kept quiet, so I talked with Milli and Jonathan until we drove home.
When we parked the car and entered the house, Romana asked me to come to the kitchen so the kids were not able to hear us. “Why did you disrespect me in front of everybody like that? Why did you keep asking about the same things over and over again?”
I stopped her and said, “What things? How were you disrespected? I just asked Jonathan about camping and possible employment at his company. I tried to make you smile and joked about women a little bit.”
I could not recall anything close to what she was saying. I did make a few jokes about how some women in general treat men, classy jokes and comments, nothing sleazy. I reminded myself of “The Hollywood Rob” rule and wanted to normalize the situation.
“I’m sorry if I said something unusual. I’m really tired and need some rest. This week has been crazy so far,” I said, and went to the office upstairs to be alone, to recap the unusual events.
“What if I am not the only one experiencing this?” I wondered. “Since the December 15 2016 lunch, things were never the same between the girls and me. The next day, on the 16th, Ronnee felt really good and excited about what happened on the previous day. When our eyes met at the hallway, I was sure we both felt the same way about each other. When Jessica returned from Ireland, I began to get sick. I love and care for Ronnee and have to warn her, no matter what, without raising suspicions. I really don’t know what is going on and hope she isn’t experiencing the same abnormalities. It is all just speculation at this point, any scenario could be the new reality.” Many thoughts were racing through my head. For some reason the women and I never exchanged phone numbers. I had no way to communicate with them. Ronnee indirectly asked me for a phone number during our last private lunch on December 21 2016, but I didn’t have a chance to give her the information.
“Joseph, I would like to have the number for your car mechanic.”
Our eyes met at full stare during and after she finished the sentence. We both enjoyed the moment. I continued to think and hoped to solve some or all the riddles: “All the women, including Leah, and the unusual events I am experiencing are somehow connected. With Leah, it was always an emotional roller coaster ride. With Ronnee, Jessica, and Christine, it was nothing but an emotional roller coaster ride. The women are different, but beautiful in their own way. All four have a different set of skills; Leah is a tax accountant, Ronnee is a lawyer, Jessica is a communications manager and Christine is a finance person. They have a couple very important qualities in common; none of them are the typical ‘gold-diggers’ and all have down-to-earth personalities. I could spend hours and hours talking with any one of them. The four made me feel comfortable and good about myself. The more I was around them, the more I liked them. It is rare to find such a great group of friends. This has to have a purpose, especially when all the circumstances are factored in.”
I began to get lost in my thoughts and was unable to figure anything out. I proceeded with the plan to warn Ronnee, to send her a LinkedIn message. I didn’t want to send it directly to her since the NSA agents would definitely pick her up for “questioning.” If the “Heaven vs Hell” situation was real, she would be crucified on the cross. If the “Matrix” was the reality, the artificial intelligence or the real people could kill her. If the “Reality TV” show was real, then the politicians could remove her from the show to expedite my decision-making regarding socialism vs capitalism. “No matter what the scenario, nobody can know that I love her. I can’t act on these feelings and need to bury the feelings as fast as possible in the place called ‘mind’.” This was my final decision before starting up the computer. I reminded myself of Leah and looked at her LinkedIn profile picture. “She is definitely the agent of Hell, with black hair and slightly blue eyes. I would expect her eyes to be a different color, perhaps brown like Christine’s. Yes, let me look at Christine’s profile picture,” I said to myself, and kept thinking on how to pull this off.
At that point, I felt really tired and unable to concentrate and focus my eyes. As I was looking at Christine’s picture, the time slowed down again. She was becoming more beautiful with each passing second and her eyes appeared larger than normal. It almost looked like the photograph attempted to communicate with me as the following thoughts appeared in my mind: “Yes, this is it. I will send the message to Christine, who will then show the message to the rest of the group. I will describe some of the symptoms that happened at the park yesterday. On top of that, I will be nasty to Ronnee to protect her. Ronnee’s life is more important to me than my love for her. She needs to forget about me, anyway, or at least to a point when I realize what is really going on. I also care for Christine, who needs to learn a lesson; be able to overcome her deepest fears and realize Joseph is no Devil. What about Jessica? Well, I also care for her very much, but don’t think she is experiencing any symptoms. At the December 15 2016 lunch, she was there just to watch, kind of like a sweet angel. Jessica was not abused as a child so why would she fear the Devil?” These thoughts were pouring in, one after another, until I opened LinkedIn and wrote this message:
Hi Christine, I apologize to you and everyone at Argos for what happened. It felt like I was losing my mind. I went to a park and focused on my wedding ring and faraway objects with my eyes almost closed. I feel much better but still would love to have a joint! :-) Contact me anytime you would like to have a cup of coffee ;-)
You know what that means.
You always said I am your little Devil ;-)
Say hi to the asshole Mark and the cunt Ronnee :-(
They really fucked everything for both of us.
I always believe what I see and not always what I hear! We will see each other again when the time is right!
Love, Joseph
​
“This is perfect. Nobody will have any idea about my true feelings for Ronnee, who will surely get the message if she has similar symptoms. Maybe I’ll be contacted in future for additional help. Christine will get the message as well. She will probably be scared to death at first, but will become a stronger person once she realizes that Hell or Satan Joseph is not waiting for her around the corner.”
After reassuring myself and reading the message several times over, I pressed the “send” button. After dinner, I began to feel good again. It was like someone just gave me an extra shot of adrenaline. I wanted to tell Romana about my work-related plans to continue to flip stocks on the side and get back to construction. “Let’s sell the house and make 150k. We live in a country club and the houses around us sell for about 400k to 450k. We can use the money to buy a fixer-upper to flip. We can rent a house somewhere close by until the cash flow increases. It will be perfect, so what do you say? You have a steady job and are gone three to four days per week. I can do whatever on the side and finally be able to spend more time with you and the kids. Who cares about money? I just want to be with the kids as much as possible before they grow up. I don’t want them to grow up with a babysitter and in front of a TV. Those kids are like zombies, unable to think for themselves.”
I presented the case with as much enthusiasm as possible. Unfortunately, Romana was not happy at all and kept making negative comments.
“You did not go to college to become a construction worker. Are you gonna throw your career away just like that?”
At that point, my reactions to her comments were too fast. I had to concentrate really hard to not answer before she finished her sentence.
​
After the fruitless conversation, I went upstairs to check out the new phone. The brightness and sharpness of the screen was incredible. I read several news articles and noticed the screen was emitting vibrations of light, the same flashes of light emitted by the computer screen at work! The phone’s shape was not straight, it was slightly curved. I panicked and threw the phone on the floor. “Shit, what am I gonna do? I can’t act suspicious and complain about this to Romana, to T-Mobile, or the manufacturer. I’ll continue to look at the screen as long as I can take it. The screen is not large, hopefully it will not be too bad.”
I calmed myself down and resumed reading the news articles. The flashes of light were shooting into my eyes at unpredictable intervals, creating extreme difficulty when I tried to concentrate, as my eyes were hurting. Also, I felt pressure in both cheeks and temporal bones. It felt like my face was about to collapse into itself as I was losing consciousness. “I have to stop right now before I collapse,” I thought. I turned the phone off, lay on the floor and closed my eyes.
I was feeling better after a few minutes and started to think. “How am I going to function in society, like this? I need to be able to look into a computer screen for a minimum of eight to ten hours a day to work in my field. Will the abnormalities ever disappear or am I going to live like this or worse for the rest of my life? If I restart the construction business, I will not have to worry about computer, phone, or TV screens too often. I can manage this, I just have to believe in myself.” I was unhappy how the day ended. That evening, it felt so good lying in bed with my eyes closed.
​
On Monday January 23rd, I woke up with facial pains. The pain was not as severe as the previous evening, but it was annoying. I couldn’t read much news on my cell phone because the light flashes reappeared. “I am screwed, the NSA know I broke my phone on Friday. The agents contacted my current provider, T-Mobile, and hacked my future phone. They drugged me so I would not be able to concentrate while making the purchase. The agents are not stupid and by this time know more about me than I know about myself. They knew I would purchase a cheap model. I never buy the latest gadgets and why should I? Most electronics will be worthless within a couple of years.” I tried to hide my fears and read a few more articles.
Romana planned to buy a new couch today. She left the house shortly after breakfast to run a few errands. I was supposed to meet her at 11 a.m. on Barret Parkway, at Rooms To Go. Again, I experienced the unusual surveillance activity on my way to the store. I heard helicopters and airplanes flying above the car most of the time and different vehicles followed me at close distance. One new situation experienced before appeared again: as I was approaching vehicles from behind on I-75, each car moved away to a different lane. “That is nice. I have the whole highway for myself, but I shouldn’t abuse the situation by speeding, it is not worth it. I remember very well what happens if I react to any event in unusual way.”
​
The Rooms To Go store was located somewhere on Barret Parkway. I called my wife for directions, but the phone did not work properly. I tried several more times, but the calls kept getting disconnected. There was a “beep” signal shortly after the beginning of each call. I gave up on trying to reach her and continued to drive on Barret Parkway, towards Kennesaw. In less than a minute, the store was on my right side, but I was unable to cross over the right lane quickly enough and missed the turn. I parked my car at a Chevrolet car dealership positioned right next to the furniture store, found a nice parking spot in front of the main entrance and walked to the adjacent store. “Nobody will care if I leave the car here for a few minutes. Why would they bother their future customer? The new Corvette looks good, but I wouldn’t buy it. The electric Bolt is the car of my interest.” I kept thinking about cars until I saw Romana at the store talking with a salesman.
“Hi, Romana, so show me what you like,” I said.
“Hi, OK, come on over. You will like this one in the dark maroon color,” she replied, in an excited way. It was a modern-looking leather sofa with a forward-facing flatbed extension. The sofa was really comfortable and looked great, so I gave her the “OK” to purchase it, despite its price. A few days ago, I tried to convince her to postpone the purchase until the business I had in mind started to produce a stable income. I didn’t push her too hard because she hated the current living room set. It was a used two-piece white Italian leather sofa given to us by my ex-boss and good friend, Jeff Mathis.
​
Jeff Mathis story
Jeff was an interesting individual whom I met at Main Event Fitness, back in 2003. He was cool, relaxed, and always had a great story. Jeff was the classic salesman who would talk to anyone about anything for hours. I lost my people’s personality a long time ago and was the exact opposite. I kept to myself and did not initiate conversations with strangers, either men or women. He was the one who approached me, and we talked more and more with each passing day. Jeff was married to a good-looking Russian lady in her mid-thirties, named Regina, and had three daughters: four-year-old Brooke from the current marriage, another small girl from his second marriage and sixteen-year-old Jacqueline, from his first marriage. This was his third marriage.
In the summer of 2004, Jeff hired me to manage day-to-day operations at his company, Georgia Credit Systems, a small collection agency of four people. I didn’t know at the time that Jeff had already run the company into the ground. His largest customer, a Natural Gas company, stopped forwarding collection work several months before I started, and Jeff didn’t even know it. The person he trusted with everything was lying to him about what was going on at the business. Jeff made the terrible mistake of not watching and verifying what his employees were doing. He was not checking the numbers either, as his main hobbies were the women, traveling to Europe, and partying all the time, like there was no end in sight. He almost never worked, therefore became totally dependent on James, the person I was replacing. Jeff realized something was wrong when one of his employees, a young woman, accidently caught James watching porn in his office. There was one small problem. The porn was not just the regular porn that most males ranging from about ten to ninety years old watch on daily basis. The porn consisted of women having sex with dogs. :-o The young lady was traumatized by the scenery (who wouldn’t be, right girls?) and reported the incident straight to the owner. Jeff started to dig into what was really going on at the business and decided to replace Mr. James. :-)
​
I did my best, even after finding out the company would eventually go out of business. Jeff was spending most of the cash on partying, with no intention of reinvesting some of the money to grow the business. I truthfully reported my concerns and what was going on at the business, but he didn’t care anymore. I was frequently told to leave work early or not to work at all (especially on Fridays and Mondays), and to meet him at a bar. I would then drink a little and drive him around until late at night. It was a lot of fun at first and the pay of $800 per week wasn’t bad either. He paid for all the entertainment and was letting me drive his 2002 convertible black-on-black Porsche 911, with six-speed manual clutch, for weeks at a time. I had so much fun driving this vehicle around Atlanta. This was the perfect company car! Jeff was color-blind and loved black. His favorite clothes were black workout attire, which he wore almost daily.
After a while, I knew this lifestyle wasn’t for me. “There is no future in this. Life becomes meaningless, as a person doesn’t develop and only lives to survive. This is a path to self-destruction and I need to find a way to get out of this.” I kept analyzing the situation more frequently as time went by. Jeff’s attention-deficit disorder kept getting worse. He had countless Botox injections, all his teeth were replaced by perfectly white implants. He was checking his face and hair in a car’s rearview mirror all the time. I liked Jeff, but didn’t want to be around him anymore because I was unable to help him turn his life around. Deep down, Jeff was a great person with too big a heart. He wanted everyone around him to be happy and would do anything for his family and friends, regardless of money. He was one of those rare people you could trust with your life and not some two-faced fake who could backstab you any minute.
​
One party event stood above the others. After the usual drinking at a bar, Jeff decided to pick up one of his girlfriends and take her to the Four Seasons hotel in downtown Atlanta. The Presidential Suite was chosen as the appropriate room and Jeff gladly submitted the company’s credit card. The rate of the room was $3,500 per night. We looked around the reception area and the three of us sat in a saloon close to the lobby. Everything in the hotel was immaculately and beautifully decorated. There were plenty of small trees and flowers in the saloon to keep a person feeling comfortable.
“Hey, Joseph,” Jeff said in a curious tone of voice, “I’m here with my girlfriend and I don’t think it’s fair you’re sitting here alone. How would you like some female company?”
I stopped admiring the scenery and replied, “It would be nice, but you know I’m not dating anybody right now.”
“That’s not a problem,” he said, and continued to speak in a slow tone of voice. “We can arrange that. You know I would do anything for my best friend. I’ll tell the concierge to order you a young beautiful blonde.”
I was so surprised by the offer, but instantly became worried because prostitution is illegal in this country. “Come on, Jeff, this is not Europe. They’ll call the cops on us. It’s not worth it!”
He refused to listen and instructed the concierge to call over a young blonde woman. The person politely declined and stated the hotel doesn’t offer these kinds of services. Jeff asked for the hotel’s manager to come over immediately. Within a few minutes, a woman in her late-forties to low-fifties, dressed in a professional business suit, came over.
“Gentlemen, what can I do for you this evening?” she said in a friendly, slow, and polite tone of voice.
You were able to tell the woman had class. The lady wore “secretary glasses” and looked and acted like a CEO.
“Well, my friend here,” said Jeff, then pointed his hand towards me, “would like a young blonde girl to escort him to our room. You know what that means. Would you be so kind as to arrange this for us?”
I felt horrible and unable to look into the woman’s face anymore, so I looked down.
“I am so sorry, we always try to accommodate our guests as best we can. This, however, is beyond the services offered by the hotel.”
I glanced at her and noticed she was looking directly at me while speaking. I raised my arm upwards by a few inches away from my body and pointed towards Jeff like I was giving her a signal to let her know I had given up on my friend this evening. This was all his fault not mine.
“Please do it for us. We stay at the Presidential Suite and are one of your best customers.” Jeff was not giving up.
Again, she politely answered, “I appreciate the business. We will do anything we possibly can to make your stay enjoyable. I would like to help you in this area, but cannot do it because of legal issues. I would suggest calling someone from the Yellow Pages.”
Jeff eventually realized the hotel would not fulfil this request, no matter what. I was impressed with how professional the woman and the staff remained. I thought for sure the manager would call the cops and we would be arrested or, if lucky, we would be kicked out of the hotel. This proved to me money really talks.
I was astonished how large the Presidential Suite was. The main conference room had a table for about fifteen people and the view of the city out of the large window was amazing. There were two separate bedrooms and each had a private bathroom. The furniture, fixtures, and art were beautiful. Each room had a large LCD TV, an unusual hotel feature for mid-2000s. “What a difference from the Scottish Inn motel.” I remembered how dumpy the place was compared to this room.
Jeff told his girlfriend, Kimbo, to pick up the Yellow Pages and order the hot blonde. I don’t know why he insisted on a blonde girl. I knew he liked blondes, but he didn’t ask me what I liked. My preference would have been a brunette. At that point, I gave up on trying to stop Jeff and took it as a quarterly employee bonus for my hard work. By the way, I started to get a hard-on anyway, there was no point in resisting this any longer. “Whatever, I need to have some fun. I will not have sex with the girl. A massage with a happy ending should do the trick.” I promised myself not to fuck her since she probably already had a few guys before me.
When the escort girl entered the room, Kimbo welcomed her and talked with her like they were best friends. The four of us ordered steak dinners and chatted for a while. After the dinner, Kimbo looked at me and the girl, then smiled and said, “This gentleman is the lucky one. Go take care of him. You go, girl.” I went to my room and helped the girl undress. We entered a bath tub together, where she gently washed me and I washed her. Then we returned to the bedroom.
“So, Joseph, what do you like?” she said.
“I don’t know,” I replied.
“You don’t know? But I know exactly what you want. Why don’t you lie over there on the bed and let me be in charge from now on,” said the girl, named Stella.
She was almost thirty, but looked like she was in her early twenties. Stella spoke in a soft, comforting tone of voice. She touched and looked at me like she really liked me. I probably was not one of her usual customers. She massaged and kissed me all over my body. I wanted to return the favor and did the same for her. I did not want to make her feel like a paid hooker, but wanted her to feel more like a person that I cared for; my girlfriend I fell in love with. She was enjoying herself, our eyes met at full stare and she began to French kiss me. I was surprised but did not try to stop her. “She really knows how to kiss,” I thought, as we continued to kiss and touch each other all over our bodies for several minutes. I went down on her and within a few minutes Stella climaxed. She was not faking it because her body was slightly shaking, then she moved her head backwards, opened her eyes and deeply exhaled. Her tone of voice was not loud at all. She made an orgasmic sound and squeezed her lips in full satisfaction.
“Did you like it?” I asked her.
“Every second of it. Joseph, nobody ever ate my pussy the way you did. Lie down and I’ll do the same for you, just let me know when you are ready to put on a condom and go inside me,” she said.
“That’s so sweet, Stella, but I would just like head. Please don’t take it personally, it has nothing to do with you. I just promised myself not to do this, no matter what,” I said.
“No problem, I will do whatever you like,” she answered.
I lay on my back and tried to relax. Stella genuinely smiled and again was kissing me all over my body and went down on me. It felt incredible. She really knew what she was doing by taking her time and not rushing it. I had a strange thought: “I am in the Presidential Suite, so I should try to make it as memorable as possible.”
I said to my lover, “Stella, can you do me a favor? Please put on your blouse and let me cum on it. Sit in front of the bed and I will stand while we are doing this.”
She smiled and replied, “Whatever you like, Joseph.”
She put on her white blouse and resumed the blowjob. I purposely came all over her right shoulder, breast and said the following sentence to myself, “I did not have sexual relations with that woman!”
I smiled in full satisfaction and said, “This could not get any better than this!”
After the endless fun, we continued to talk for a couple hours. She gave me her real phone number and address. Strangely enough, Stella lived in the apartment complex right next to where my mom lived. I never called her again because I could not date her. I knew I wouldn’t be able to get over one important factor in her life, her place of employment.
​
Back at the furniture store
“I really like the sofa. It’s very comfortable and will fit great into our living room. If you like it, then let’s buy it,” I said, and Romana smiled in satisfaction that I shared her taste.
“Let’s get some discount. Please don’t say anything or you are going to ruin my negotiations,” I said, and approached the salesman, who was waiting for us behind a computer located in the center of the store.
He was an older gentleman who knew for sure the sofa was sold. My wife, like most people, is unable to hide emotions while shopping.
“How are you? I’m Joseph and I am this young lady’s husband.” I shook his hand and continued to speak. “We may be interested to purchase the sofa that is placed over there, but the price isn’t right. It is a substantial purchase. Can you help us with the price so we can reach a deal?”
The person looked directly at my face and answered politely but firmly, “I am sorry sir, we don’t give discounts. It’s against the company’s policy.”
“Are you sure? Because everything is negotiable,” I answered, while looking directly into his eyes.
“Believe me, I would like to help you, but unfortunately I can’t do anything.” He maintained his position.
I looked at Romana and firmly said, “Let’s go, we can get a better deal somewhere else, maybe from an online store.”
I was walking away towards the exit, but Romana kept standing next to the salesman and would not move. I tried several times to make her leave, but was unsuccessful. Given the circumstances of what was going on in my life, I didn’t want to push my luck. I could not concentrate and kept answering or asking questions faster than anyone else. I had to continuously remind myself to let the other people finish talking before entering the conversation. At least these were the only symptoms I was experiencing.
“OK, you’re the boss. Do whatever you want,” I said, and gave up.
Once the salesperson entered the order, he asked me how I was going to pay for it.
“Don’t ask me,” I replied. I pretended to be surprised and pointed my arm towards my wife. “She made the decision and she will pay for it. I just stand here.”
Romana looked at me like I’d lost my mind, but made the first payment anyway and financed the rest at 0% for twenty-four months. The salesman was happy and walked us out.
Just before we exited the building, I asked him a question. “You’re a pretty good salesman with a lot of experience. I’m sure you can sell anything at this point.”
He looked at my face and replied with a smile, “That’s right, I can sell anything. I’ve been in the business for years.”
“Good for you. Can I borrow your pen?” He then gave me his pen and I said, “If I tell you to sell me this pen, you can’t do it, can you?” I gave him the pen back and he abruptly walked away, without saying goodbye.
​
Romana wanted to do some more shopping and we agreed to meet for lunch at the nearby all-you-can-eat sushi buffet, Ru San’s. I was curious about the upcoming electric Chevy Bolt and walked into the Chevy dealership to look at cars.
A salesman introduced himself. “How are you today? Can I help you with anything?”
I smiled back at him and calmly responded, “Good, is the Chevy Bolt on sale yet? Can I get a brochure?” The car was not on sale and the dealership had no idea when the model would become available.
“Why wait for the Bolt when we have the Volt on sale right now? Let’s sit down at that table over there and discuss your options,” the salesman said.
For no reason, I started to feel dizzy and time slowed down. Everybody spoke and moved around at a slower pace. My vision increased and everything looked sharper and brighter than normal. I gave up and answered, “Why not. The Volt is an electric/gas hybrid with forty miles range on the battery alone. I can get the best of both worlds.”
We sat down and a second salesperson joined us for the conversation. They both tried really hard to make a sale that day. The more questions I asked, the cheesier the answers became. I’d had enough and wanted to end the conversation, and said, “I have about a year and half worth of lease payments on my Leaf. Does it make sense to break the lease?”
“Sure, go ahead and break your lease. We’ll give you a great deal today.”
I didn’t expect that kind of answer and abruptly stood up from the chair. “Gentlemen, you think I was born yesterday? You’re telling me that breaking a lease makes economic sense? I’ll never come into this building again.” Both men were stunned by the answer and didn’t say a word. I was leaving the dealership and, just before the exit, I turned around and said to everyone, “Next time, try to rip off someone else, you phonies!”
​
I drove to the Ru San’s restaurant, located about a mile away on the other side of I-75. I sat at a bar and tried unsuccessfully to call my wife. The pictures on several TVs that were hanging from the ceiling above the bar were moving up and down. It was the same movement of the TVs made in the 1960s. Back in those days, the sets had to be manually adjusted with the “turn” button positioned at the back of a TV. A young server in his early twenties came by and asked if I needed anything. I asked for a glass of water. We then spoke about nature and traveling. He was a free-spirited individual. The type of individual who would one day decide to walk the Appalachian Trail, quit his job and pack the next day, then leave for six months to complete the journey.
I became worried about what was going on. The NSA situation seemed the most realistic. The TVs and the cell phones had to be replaced.
“Where can I get a nice used phone with a customized operating system? You know what I mean?” I asked the server.
“There’s a small store right next to the restaurant. They’ll be able to help you,” he calmly replied, smiled, and went back to work.
The TVs continued to have the issues with picture, but oddly nobody noticed or said anything to the restaurant employees. I made a decision to leave the restaurant and go to the cell phone store next door. As soon as I exited the restaurant the phone rang.
“Hello Joseph, this is Tim from 6 Degrees Group, how’re you?”
“So-so; how’re you?” I answered.
Tim continued, “You cannot contact anyone at Argos.”
“In that case I also can’t send anymore LinkedIn requests,” I replied.
Debbie, the human resource employee at Argos, abruptly entered the conversation. “That is correct, Joseph, you can’t contact anybody in any way. What you did to Christine—”
I interrupted her. “Please say ‘I’m sorry’ to everyone at Argos, especially to Christine. I apologize to Ronnee and Mark, goodbye.”
“Wait, Joseph!” Debbie wanted to get more information, but I hung up the phone. I felt awful and hoped Christine didn’t end up in a psychiatric institution. Religion was used, among many tools, to abuse her, the Devil was one of her genuine fears. During one of our conversations, she mentioned the Devil and Angel are not real and organized religion is a scam to keep the people under control. I knew she would eventually be able to pull herself together.
I was in a bad mood due to the phone call and scrapped the lunch and the phone purchase. To go home as soon as possible was the number one wish.
​
The ride home was accompanied by the usual weirdness: loud aviation noises, cars following at close distance and unpredictable behaviors by other drivers at intersections. I didn’t care anymore as this was becoming my new reality. I was beginning to accept the idea of unpredictable “weirdness” and thought this might have been orchestrated by the intelligence agency. “They are wasting millions of dollars to monitor a person just because of a ‘he said, she said’ story. I will not give them the pleasure of driving me insane and will play this game as long as I have to. It has to end someday because even the NSA has limited resources,” I thought, but wasn’t too sure about the last sentence and remembered the circumstances surrounding Edward Snowden.
​
At home, while eating lunch, I wanted to read the news on my cell phone. When alone, I liked to read the news while eating breakfast, snack, lunch, and dinner. I read most news while eating lunch, or at least I did until I met the four women at Argos. :-) Besides being unable to focus, the phone kept giving me the same problems. The flashes of vibrating light were intensifying and the touch screen behaved oddly. The picture moved up and down at irregular intervals and the finger touch command function was off, as well. I had to press the screen several times for the phone to work. I received a text message from Tim at 6 Degrees: “Joseph, come to our office to pick up the screen privacy protector and a sweater.”
I wrote back, “I will not come. I am too ashamed.”
After the message was sent, I resumed reading the news and saw a picture of on old stroller with a microphone hanging from the top down. The tip of the microphone was a few inches above a baby. The article mentioned that someone had been recorded since birth. “This can’t be happening. There is no way the ‘Reality TV’ scenario is real, as the circumstances of my present life point to the ‘NSA’ scenario.” I became so confused, turned the phone off and went upstairs to take a nap.
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After not being able to fall asleep for at least an hour, I walked downstairs to the kitchen/living room area. There was a large suitcase standing next to the main entry door.
“What is going on, Romana? Why is the suitcase here?” I asked, in shock.
“You need to leave the house. I just about had enough of you.”
I did not want to cause a scene and said, “Let’s talk about it—”
She abruptly interrupted, saying, “There is nothing to talk about. Leave, leave right now.” She maintained her ground.
“This is ridiculous. You know what, I’ll go to my sister’s house. Have a nice life.” I packed a few more items, grabbed the suitcase and took the Leaf instead of the Mercedes. During the drive, it became difficult to keep my eyes on the road. I had a headache, my whole face felt like it would collapse in itself at any moment. Luck was on my side; the house was only fifteen minutes away.