Five Minute Observations

Category: Fiction

  • Rose Festival 1990-Something

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    by

    Joe Class III
    in

    On top of his Stussy bucket hat sat a stuffed black and white stuffed cow, which wasn’t an unusual sight. Not in Portland during the Rose Festival. Wearing jean shorts, white Reeboks, and a Camel t-shirt, his short almond-colored hair was barely noticeable under the hat. And, unless you got real close, you wouldn’t notice…

  • Does a Living Wage Matter?

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    by

    Joe Class III
    in

    “What happens when they find out?” The board sat, waiting for the Chief Executive Officer, Donald Gershot, to reply. “Are you referring to Emulsion’s pay scale? The minimum wage in Missouri is $7.25 an hour. Isn’t it? We’re paying them above poverty levels for Missouri, correct?” Looking around the table, Donald waited to see if…

  • “ALL ROCK AND ROLL MUSIC IS SATANIC!”

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    by

    Joe Class III
    in

    “ALL ROCK AND ROLL MUSIC IS SATANIC!” Me and my friends laughed at him. Well, they did. I was a bit too scared to laugh, as my Dad was a local Southern Baptist church pastor. But in Dublin, California, we didn’t call it Southern Baptist. We moved from Arkansas in the spring of 1980. My…

  • Another Sleepless Morning

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    by

    Joe Class III
    in

    Chirping. A constant, not altogether unfamiliar chirping sound. Eyes half opened, having laid down to get some sleep minutes earlier, the sound was less aggravating and more irritating. Like nails on a chalkboard, Brad reached for the bedside table, searching for the annoyance to silence it. Permanently. Finding the cordless phone, he considered shutting it…

  • After Hours at McMinimin’s

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    by

    Joe Class III
    in

    Officer Keyes sat in his patrol car, the door slightly ajar, his left foot dangling, trying to put together pieces of what exactly happened to Kyle Patterson. The EMTs were saying heart attack. The young men who caused all the excitement bailed before Beaverton Police arrived on the scene, and Patterson had a coronary event.…

  • McMinimin’s: An hour later . . .

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    by

    Joe Class III
    in

    “What’s his name?” Nolan read the EMT’s name tag: Harris. His partner, Garcia, ensured their patient was secure inside the ambulance. It didn’t take long for the ambulance to arrive, with the Fire Station less than five blocks from McMinimin’s. Nolan shrugged. “You don’t know the name of your bartender?” Garcia said from inside the…

  • McMinimin’s New Bartender

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    by

    Joe Class III
    in

    Nolan came into McMinimin’s, looking for his favorite bartender, Caitlin, a good old-fashioned Irish girl with ginger hair, a pale complexion accented with freckles, and a few piercings in her left ear. A stranger stood behind the bar, a big man, balding, with a slight hint of a mustache that looked like he’d be attempting…

  • Nolan Hanratty and the 1998 NBA Playoffs

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    by

    Joe Class III
    in

    Walking through the door of McMinimin’s, Nolan scanned the pub’s interior, looking for a familiar face. It was a bar known by most Portland locals for its locally brewed beers. Even some unfamiliar with the other southwest watering holes knew of McMinimin’s. Nolan came to the bar after work, knowing the next 78 Tri-Met bus…

  • Scouting for a Video Project

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    by

    Joe Class III
    in

    A thick layer of dust coated a covered loveseat. It wasn’t the only piece of furniture in the room. There was a stack of uncovered chairs, a massive table covered in a canvass-like material, and three candle operas atop the covered table, the candles themselves melted down to the base of each holder. It didn’t…

  • Matt’s Basement Find

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    by

    Joe Class III
    in

    Tattered and faded, it was a wonder that Matt could read it, much less make out the small, subtle details. It was a touch warm down in the small, cramped basement room. But not enough for sweating. Matt’s heart was racing, excitedly recognizing each symbol belonging to an ancient race of people, which he studied…

  • “Bee Stings.”

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    by

    Joe Class III
    in

    Glen’s tongue, thick and heavy from the excessive amounts of Hamm’s he consumed, made it hard to understand any word he spoke with an ‘s’ in it. The foreman of a hot asphalt roofing crew for Loren Smallen, Glen was happiest off the roof, smoke burning between the fingers of his right hand and a…

  • Magic and Glitter

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    by

    Joe Class III
    in

    Taking my eyes off him? That wasn’t an option. Staring. It was all I could do. Was it the fresh tattoo, tiny droplets of blood running down over the other tats on his arms? Or maybe the fuzzy felt black top hat on his head reminded me of the Mad Hatter from Alice in Wonderland?…

  • Who’s Telling the Truth? The Front-Line Worker or the CEO?

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    by

    Joe Class III
    in

    “Homework, Wes. I hate homework. Especially when I’m trying to figure out if a company as large as yours is listening to and acting on the truth of their culture.” “Well, our culture is excellent. Our performance reviews say it all. Great place to work. Wonderful staff. Management stops and listens to grievances. The vision…

  • “I don’t need a title. I’m comfortable with who I am.” Wes Rethath, Jr.

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    by

    Joe Class III
    in ,

    Wes Rethath, Jr., Chief Executive Officer and Executive Director, Tasty Tots Incorporated, a nonprofit geared toward feeding hungry families in Kansas, made this statement during a mandatory employee meeting.   I made a mistake sitting closer to the back of the venue instead of putting myself in the middle. The agenda for today’s meeting was…

  • Overheard in Public

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    by

    Joe Class III
    in

    “I just need to buy that car. That’s all.” “What in the hell are you talking about, Geri?” Geri had a way of starting a conversation in her head out loud, confusing her BFF Beth. “You know I can’t keep up with you, right? You start out in the middle of a thought . .…

  • Tony – The Tow Truck Driver

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    by

    Joe Class III
    in

    “Tony, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, you can’t come in here dressed like that,” Margie said, a cigarette hanging from her lipstick-painted red lips. In her right hand, she held a carafe of burned black coffee. In the other, a breakfast plate: three pancakes, two pieces of thick linked…

  • Follow the Leader – Sort Of

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    by

    Joe Class III
    in ,

    Mark, Joe, and Chris were all friends back in the day. We’re talking about the early 1970s when kids were shoved outside and told to play, often unsupervised and unregulated. But for the three boys, they didn’t think much about that. Mark was a bit of a loudmouth and opinionated on every subject. A fan…

  • Rothenberg’s Appointment

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    by

    Joe Class III
    in

    “Doctor Rothenberg, Fawn is here to see you.” Doctor Valencia Rothenberg hired Traci Underhill part-time, helping the Doctor answer the telephone, questions, and general office work so she could see more patients. Traci’s hard work and dedication to Valencia’s practice worked well for her, with incremental raises, a few well-received bonuses, and profit-sharing, which was…

  • The New Kid

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    by

    Joe Class III
    in

    Hermes. I know. I laughed when I first heard his name, too. I couldn’t help it, but there it was, my laughter out in front of the classroom. He was a scrawny guy with curly, dirty blonde hair and blue eyes. From the back, it was easy to mistake him for a girl. My friends…

  • You’re Offended by That?

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    by

    Joe Class III
    in

    “You’re offended by that?” Shelby screamed at Angela. The two best friends were having coffee at the local Starbucks. It wasn’t unusual for the friends to talk about subjects varying from abortion to religion. Even political ideologies were a part of their dialogues. For some reason, all rational thought left Shelby. There was no reason…