I had spent Saturday in Chicago with a friend of mine from college whose parents were heading up a party for Indian Doctors in the Midwest.  On Sunday, I hear from my housemate Dan that he was at the house to move all of his stuff, but Gary has screwed the door shut.  Dan then called the police, who helped him climb through a window, undo the screw, and move his stuff out.  Afterwards, Dan calls Gary to ask him about his security deposit.  Gary seems enraged and surprised that Dan has called the cops.

This is a prime example of Gary’s limits in thought.  When he screwed the door shut, he only got as far down in the line of repercussions as, “…and then they won’t be able to get in the house! Brilliant!”  Of course Dan is going to call the police, all of his belongings are in the house.

So later in the day, My friend Job’s (Shameless plug: Job is also in a band: Ezra Furman and the Harpoons. Check them out at EzraFurman.com.  They’ll also be at Lollapalooza this summer.) little brother Mat drives me back to the suburbs and I ask him if he wants to help me move a desk and explain the story.  Mat is thrilled at the opportunity.  So we get to the house, Gary is in his office, and we are able to open the door.  So we go in and get my desk.  At this point I’m a little worried that Gary is going to disappoint, and Mat won’t get a full taste of his craziness…. as I’m thinking this, I see Gary at the front door with a power drill, screwing the door shut.  I am literally face to face with him at the door, and he refuses to even look at me, and then walks away.  Me and Mat then go around back and find that he didn’t lock the kitchen door so we walk in and grab the chair.  As Mat is saying that he’s pissed he didn’t get to see him, he looks up and sees Gary at the upstairs window flicking us off.  Conversation as follows:

Gabe:  So I take it this means you don’t have my security deposit?
Gary:  GO FUCK YOURSELF! YOU COWARD MOTHERFUCKER!
Gabe:  So, no then?
Gary:   And you’re never going to get it, YOU COWARD CUNT MOTHERFUCKER!
Gabe:  Well it certainly seems that way…. Gary, what do you think the next step is going to be?  Have you thought this out at all?  What would you do if you were me?  I’m going to have to file a claim in small claims court.
Gary:  Oh yea, well SUE ME!
Gabe:  …Well actually Gary, that’s what a claim is.  That’s exactly what I would be doing, suing you. 
Gary:  Well stop talking and do it MOTHERFUCKER! GO FUCK YOURSELF!
Gabe:  Well, It’s pretty late on a Sunday, I doubt they’re open. But, I’m sure I’ll get around to it.
Gary:  Take you and your SPIC FRIEND AND GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!
(at this point me and Mat, who as you could have guessed from my description of my weekend, is Indian, start laughing)
Gary:  IT’S NOT FUCKING FUNNY.
Mat:  Wrong ethnicity, but I guess it’s the spirit that counts.
(I thought this was pretty inspired, and couldn’t stop giggling about it)
Gary:  Unintelligible screaming.
Gabe:  Alright, bye Gary.  It was nice talking to you.
Mat:  It was wonderful meeting you Gary!