Day 19: 25,750 ways to describe Matthew Kneis perfect jawliness (and I'm DONE!)

"It is my pleasure to inform you that you have officially kicked ass this month. No matter how many words you have written, you have done an amazing thing. Through distractions and demands and family obligations, you forged ahead. Your willingness to go out on a creative limb, to stand up and reach for an impossible goal, is an inspiring example to all of us ... Most of you - like me - probably do not write fiction. Fiction is something other people write. But this month, you dared to say, "Screw that. It's my turn." You stepped up to the plate. And there is nothing more admirable in this whole damn world than someone willing to set for themselves the fearsome task of trying something big." - Chris Baty 

I did it! This year's NaNoWriMo has been delightful. Unconstrained by the usual word count, I wrote when I wanted, what I wanted and as much or little as I wanted. I had so much fun doing it. I now move from fellow writer to cheerleader. 

I hope you enjoy this last excerpt - 

A pylon, repurposed as a stool

I settle in to our regular booth at Jackie’s Place. Though the Ad Hoc Wifi Contemplation and Coordination Committee has only had one meeting, but already I think of the Aki Berg booth as ‘our regular booth.’

Jackie’s Place, despite it’s gruff exterior - and interior - immediately makes you feel at home. Like you belong. I bet the man himself is the same: gruff but warm and welcoming. Buildings tend to take after their owners, after all.

I’m the first to arrive from the Committee, which means I get to pick my seat. Given the choice between a booth seat with no back support and a pylon repurposed as a stool - pointy end up and covered with a stool seat, in case you are curious - I choose the pylon. As I wait for the others to join, I re-read the rules, wanting to make sure that we do not break them again. Once was bad enough. I don’t want to see what happens if you break a rule twice.

Jackie makes his slow way over from the bar to the table. He is holding a filthy rag and an even filthier glass. He appears to be trying to clean the glass with the rag, working at a lipstick stain on the top of the glass.

“What can I get for you?” He asks.

“Oh!” I say with surprise, taken aback. “I didn’t think we were allowed to choose? I thought that you always chose for us. At least, that’s what Chazzy told me. That you always choose what your patrons need, not necessarily what they want?”

At this, Jackie grunts.

“You passed the test,” he says gruffly.

I look around at the empty seats beside me, in shock. I raise my hands towards myself in a gesture to indicate ‘who, me?’

“Yes, you,” Jackie responds. “You are one of the good ones. Let me see what I can rustle up from back there.” He walks off as slowly as he came.

Just as he turns, there is a ruckus near the entrance.

Four large men are joking and laughing, pushing each other, and generally behaving like teenaged best friends. Which I guess they were? I’m not totally clear on the details, but they have all known each other a long time. Played hockey together. Bonded tightly.

“I can’t believe you did that, RJ,” Bam Bam says. “We talked about that, man. It was a terrible idea. It won’t go over well.”

Hank and Frank are with Bam Bam and Jake.

“Who’s RJ?” I ask amiably, wondering if there is a way to get rid of Jake so I can ask Bam Bam about Operation Hot Commie Summer.

Hank, Frank and Bam Bam all point to Jake.

“RJ? I thought your name was Jake Kneiss?”

“It is,” Jake answers, and I think I see him blushing. He is shooting daggers with his eyes at the other three men.

“Then what’s the ‘R’? And the ‘J’?”

“It’s an old hockey nickname, nothing interesting.” Again shooting daggers.

“Seems like it actually might be interesting,” I pry. “Probably more interesting than talking about Wifi again. Seriously. No one shared an agenda. What could we possibly have to talk about?”

“There is nothing on the agenda,” Jake says, looking pleased at the change of subject. “Leadership wanted us to have another meeting. Bam Bam agreed, thinking it would be nice to have another meeting with food and drink on the company. We can probably wrap this up pretty quickly and get back to something else. Anything else.”

“The email said there were some wrinkles that needed to be smoothed out,” Hank says, phone in hand. Or is it Frank?

“Oh, right,” answers Bam Bam. “Leadership wanted us to do a survey on the whole VIP Wifi debacle to make employees feel like they have been ‘heard’. But I already had AI do up a survey. I’ll send it out and collect the data tomorrow.”

“Will we need to meet again to go over the data?” Frank asks. At least, it’s the one I think of as Frank.

“No. First of all, no one will answer it. By show of hands, who here fills out any survey the company sends out?” When no one raises their hands, Bam Bam continues. “Exactly. So no one will fill it out, and for those that do I have strict instructions from Leadership to delete any responses that I receive but send a nicely worded response back about how seriously we take any and all employee feedback. Again, I had AI generate a response. I’ll take care of everything.”

“Great, thank you,” I say genuinely. “That means we have all the time in the world for me to hear about Jake’s nickname.”

At this, Jake blushes again. He sweeps an errant lock of hair from his forehead. 

“Ah, right,” Bam Bam replies. “It stands for ‘His Royal Jawliness’.”

“Jawliness? Is that even a word?”

“Even if it isn’t, I’m sure you immediately know what it means. I mean, look at him! Any human with eyes can appreciate that jawline. If you were to imagine the most attractive jawline possible for a human, THAT would be exactly what you would imagine. It’s just perfection. And so we started calling him RJ. ‘His Royal Jawliness’ doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue on the ice when you are skating full tilt.”

“RJ,” I say, rolling the letters around in my mouth. “I like it.”