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My Name is Mike Squatch

July 24, 2013 Leave a comment Go to comments

By Mike Squatch
Architectural Correspondent
RobertReed
File photo

My name is Mike Squatch.  I am an architect.  I designed Vitiello Decorative Hams Arena.

My latest vague project has taken me to the beautiful Teets Island Chain.  I am to construct some sort of hockey rink for Small Pizzas GM “Inner Hammer”.  I took my wife Sally to meet Mr. Hammer at his office which was actually just a little hut on the beach.  Mr. Hammer was quite taken with her and he made some evidently inappropriate comments which I wasn’t listening to.  I had been distracted by some interesting men outside lifting free weights.

“He’s a pig,” said Sally, once we were back in the car.  I put on the radio which played a delightful relaxing string number.  We passed a meat store.  “Stop there, would you Mike?” she said in her sweet way.  “Buy the largest uncured pepperoni stick they have, please.”  “Oh boy, pizza tonight?” I asked.  “No,” Sally said.  She became distracted.

We love hockey.

Later, I passed Mr. Hammer in the hotel elevator.  “I’m going to meet with the engineers,” I announced.  “Yep, you do that.  Stay out for awhile, would you?” he responded.  He shoved a hundred in my breast pocket.  “Get yourself some fancy towels or some complicated posters or whatever the fuck it is you like.”

I didn’t care for his language but he seems like a nice man.

The engineers were waiting for me.  “This is just to satisfy a court order,” one of them said.  “It’s for brown children.”  I sketched out a design.  The foreman looked it over.  “Take out the boards.  That’ll save some money.  We’ll throw up some sheetrock.  This is a big can of fuck, as far as I’m concerned,” he added mysteriously.

I didn’t care for his language but he seems like a nice man.

I thought about Mr. Hammer’s request to stay out awhile so I got an ice cream and went up to the boardwalk.  I played a little shuffleboard but couldn’t make any balls jangle through.  I was just about finished when a guy came in and dropped two quarters in the slot.  The balls rocked and then came rumbling down the lane and into my outstretched hand.  He watched me a little while and then he said, “you tooling or are you galloping?”  “Oh, I’m just here with my wife and six children.”  He vomited slightly and walked away.  Probably too much bad food.  It’s important to stay fit.

We love hockey and we are married.

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