Running with the Wrong Crowd I
I didn’t have to wait long to tell Crass the good news. Vince rang Monday night and asked if I could work Tuesday after school. Crass couldn’t make it in until seven o’clock, so I took over from Vince until Crass had made it back. Late afternoons on a weekday were always fairly quiet. It’s mainly mums on the way home from picking their kids up at primary school and lonely looking men getting their five weeklies. Vince had left me a pile of discs in the return box to deal with, so I didn’t have to sit around watching the store TV.
By then Topps and I were fully back on best-friend terms. He gave me a blow-byblow commentary on his Medal of Honour on-line win against ten rabid Nazis played by various geeks around the world. It’s one of his favourite game series. You run around a World War II battlefield shooting up enemy soldiers with hand grenades and machine guns. I have no interest in the game, but faked enough enthusiasm for him to keep talking about it as we watched a Year Twelve inter-school basketball game.
Personally, I preferred platform or puzzle games or karaoke. They’re way more fun. Killing Nazis and aliens is sort of just mindless and so boy-ish. Topps always complained about my choice of games when I would take console discs from the store to Topps’ on the weekend. ‘Not another one of those girl games,’ he’d groan when I turned up with a cute, cuddly console game in my hands.
The worst, for Topps anyway, was when I turned up at his house with Skye, two microphones and Singstar. It’s a karaoke game where you sing along to a video film clip and the game scores you out of 10,000 points for your singing ability. Ray Knipe was there too and groaned. ‘I’d feel unnatural playing that,’ he said when he saw the game. ‘It’s totally for girls.’
The funny thing? Ray Knipe stood in the rumpus room holding the microphone, his eyes shut, his fists clenched and his gangly frame swinging in time as he sung. He was really good! He could actually sing in-tune. Properly! He rocked! Skye and I burst into laughter when he finished. More out of shock. He scored 9,300 points, which was 2,000 more than either of us.
Officially, we weren’t supposed to take games for free from the store. We got half price off overnighters and games and we could take up to three weeklies for free. But Crass and I never paid for our overnighters or games. We just entered it in as a full credit. I was always careful to never take more than one or two, though.
Still, I could never really take full advantage of the free games. I must have been one of the only kids at school without either an Internet connection or a games console. It was only thanks to our broken video recorder that Dad bought a cheapo DVD player.
Topps didn’t try to raise the topic of the Video Saloon that week, which made me happy. I didn’t think Topps would take my news very well. I was sure he’d bring it up again though. I thought lying would be the best thing to do. Tell him I hadn’t seen any evidence of pirated discs since – it must have been a once-off. Hopefully I’d be out of there with a new job or Topps would forget about it anyway. Or both.
Crass came in late and mumbled something about helping his brother buy an old motorbike off a mate. He started hoeing into a vanilla slice as I got my bag to leave. I sort of hung around a bit waiting to see if he’d bring up the “helping hand” request he’d asked me for. He said nothing, just pointedly ignored me with his down-turned mouthful of icing and custard.
This is ridiculous, I thought. Now I want to help him out and Crass doesn’t want to raise the subject. I hoped from foot to foot and feigned interest in a Coca-Cola promotional sign on the counter.
‘So, Crass, what you said about helping you out, I’m kinda interested,’ I eventually said, before quickly adding, ‘I need the money.’
‘Helping me out with what?’ he asked.
‘You know, selling the DVDs to customers – giving the customers packages, whatever.’ I still didn’t exactly know what he wanted me to do.
‘Oh, yeah, that. Sure, if I have something for you to do. I’ll see what’s coming up.’ He scoffed the rest of the vanilla slice. ‘Need the dosh, hey? You and me both.’
I gave him a forced smile. ‘Thanks then, see you on Saturday,’ I said and walked home.
Boy, I thought, that was easy.
The following Saturday Crass showed me a box of envelopes he kept under a bench in the back room. The box held a mix of thin yellow and white padded and sealed envelopes. They were all labelled with first names.
‘These are for my customers who may come in this weekend,’ he explained. ‘What they owe is written on the back of each envelope. Just take the money and throw it in the tin.’ He pointed to an empty Milo tin in the box. ‘I’m out of here Sunday afternoon so you may get a few customers in then. If they don’t pick them up by Monday, I’ll post them. I’ll pay you twenty bucks for helping me out.’
Twenty bucks! It seemed like a lot of money for just handing over some envelopes. It’d take me three hours of work after tax to make that.
‘Another thing,’ said Crass. ‘Can you leave the box underneath the lunch table when you’re finished? I like to keep the box out of Vince’s sight.’
‘Are you sure Vince is cool about it?’ I asked. ‘And he’s coming in Sunday night.’
‘No worries, he’s cool. He knows what I do, I just don’t make a fuss about it.’ He pulled up his sleeves of his hooded jacket and pushed the box in a little further on the shelf. ‘I told him I’d stick to posting them, that’s all. He doesn’t like me handing them out over the counter. Anyway, I better phone a few customers who are coming in today so they know you are kosher.’
‘Kosher?’
‘Yeah, you know, you’re OK. That you’re in with my little business.’
Crass made it sound, like, totally sordid. I wondered how long this had been going on for. Obviously his customers hadn’t ever asked me for packages, but I’d never seen any evidence Crass had been selling them during business hours – except for the pile of DVDs in the basement and overalls guy, that is.
‘You’re not scared about getting caught?’ I asked him. ‘I mean, you could get really busted if you were sprung.’ I remembered the video piracy warning that came up at the start of every DVD. I never took much notice, but it always sounded ominous.
‘Nah, I’m small fry. It’s just a handful of customers. Big deal. Probably get let off with a warning, that’s all. Besides, I’m careful. I never have more than a handful of DVDs or games here. I’ve been doing it a while now and it’s been easy money. The cops don’t care. Haven’t you been to the market? They’ve sold copies there for the last two years. If the cops cared they’d have shut them down yonks ago.’
‘Then what about the policeman who came in the other week?’ I said. ‘He was talking about pirated DVDs doing the rounds at video stores – and he wanted to talk to Vince about it.’
Crass yawned, as if to show how boring and girly my worries were. ‘Different thing altogether. That’s all about renting out illegal DVDs in the store. Some distributors send us copies instead of originals. It happens. That’s were the big money is, anyway, cause its just a few guys doing it right around Australia.’
I was in the back sorting through some new Blu-ray discs that Vince had asked me to stick barcodes on when Crass’ first “customer” came in later that afternoon. I recognised his voice clearly as Overall Guy who asked me for the cut out of Jim Carrey.
‘Did your friend agree to help out with the business?’ asked Overall Guy.
‘Yeah. Thanks for the tip. Good to have her on board,’ Crass said.
Both Crass and the customer seemed fairly oblivious to the fact I was in the back room. Overall Guy must have told Crass when he saw me and Topps with the pirated disc that time. So did Crass decided to get me on board just in case I was going to squeal on him or was that just a coincidence? I didn’t know what to think. What I did know is that money was more important at this very moment. I’d made my decision. There was no use in trying to change my mind now.
Feeling like a big pretender, I walked out of the back room holding the box of Bluray discs. ‘Hi,’ I said to Crass and the customer as chirpily as a I could and taking extra effort in looking at the package Overalls Guy held with complete nonchalance. Overalls Guy hesitated for a moment, looking at Crass for confirmation that I was cool. Crass raised his eyebrows as if to say, ‘She’s cool.’
‘Present for my daughter,’ the man explained to me. Taking Crass’ cue, he took out some of the covers and had a quick look at them: cartoons and animations. I noticed a couple of Spongebob Squarepants discs – one of my favourite cartoons. Most of the others were Disney. ‘Wow! They look great,’ he said. ‘She’ll love them.’
‘Bit cheaper than buying ten DVDs from K-Mart, hey?’ said Crass.
‘Yeah. Thirty bucks each! Rip-off. Wouldn’t buy them. Guess I should learn how to download them instead, but I can’t be buggered,’ Overall Guy said, handing over a bunch of notes. He didn’t get any change back. I realised that this must be a real nice earner for Crass.
‘Well, this is easier and better quality than downloading them. And if you’re after any of the latest releases, I have them,’ said Crass. ‘Or if you’re after anything for yourself,’ he added.
The customer smirked at Crass, then at me. ‘Not sure if the wife would like that,’ he said, taking the package and walking out. I grimaced, not quite sure what Crass and he meant, but not liking the sound of it.
Crass pocketed the money. ‘Should help me on the way to buying that motorbike a little quicker,’ he said to me.
The next day I was by myself for the quieter Sunday afternoon shift. I had to admit I felt slightly edgy, even a bit pumped, about the agreement to help Crass out. I’m not a risk taker, but the ball of nervousness that had been rolling around my stomach had been replaced by the electric tinge of anticipation. I was finally doing something on the edge! I wasn’t boring old Stacey with the dullest life in Rosedale. I was a dealer making black money! My mum would have killed me, for sure, but what would Dad do? Nothing. I was virtually on my own now, and so I had to help myself.
Half an hour into it a guy with dark curly hair and a small birthmark under right his eye told me Colin said I may have an order for him.
‘What’s your name?’ I asked, trying to hide the nervous tone to my voice. I’d been trying to convince myself that morning what I was doing was OK, and I’d only just succeeded. I mean, buying CDs and DVDs and console games were a total joke. Up to a hundred bucks for a few plastic discs? Rip-off. How did they expect kids to buy them when they cost so much? Games cost up to a hundred, CDs around thirty – yet they’re aimed at kids like me. If the companies were so worried about people not pirating their stuff, they’d lower the price, wouldn’t they?
‘Me name’s Eric,’ the man said to me, grinning. ‘Don’t worry about no surname. I’m not a member here.’
I went out the back and found his first name on one of the sealed envelopes. It felt like it only had a few DVDs inside it. On the back of the envelope Crass had scribbled $45.
‘Enjoy them,’ I said, not sure what else to say.
Eric gave me a big smile. I saw the flash of a gold tooth. Then he gave me a fiftydollar bill. ‘Youse can keep the change,’ he said.
‘Gee, thanks,’ I said. This was beginning to look like a lucrative business.
‘Yeah, I sure am gonna enjoy watching these,’ said Eric, putting the envelope under his arm.
‘Er, great,’ I said, not really understanding his over enthusiasm for the movies.
Eric was starting to give me the creeps. I was wearing a fairly light, tight-ish white T-shirt and I felt as if he had locked his eyes onto my chest. I crossed my arms defensively. He seemed to get the hint and walked out. ‘See youse!’ he waved.
Another two of Crass’ “customers” came in during my shift. Once, when it was fairly busy, the guy hung around the new releases until the store was empty. He was a younger guy about Crass’ age. He seemed a bit nervous too, quickly paying and leaving the store with the package in his backpack.
Boy, Crass must have really let his customers know that I was his new sidekick quick as. They knew who to ask.
Vince was due in at six, so I hid the box under the desk in the back. There were still a few packages left, which Crass said he’d deal with Monday morning. I wondered how much Vince knew about Crass’ operation. Perhaps they were splitting the profits? Or was Vince totally blind about what was going on? One thing for sure, if Vince found the box of DVDs, I was going to act dumb.
Vince came in complaining, as usual. ‘Bloody Colin,’ he said, ‘making me work Sunday afternoons. Not as if I live next door, is it? I hafta drive from Box Hill. Shouldn’t have let him take the evening off. That’s why I hired you, Stacey, so I don’t hafta work weekends.’ He took a look at Saturday’s balance to see how much money we had made. ‘Four hundred? Ah, bloody hell, it’s all going down the gurgler. I remember we used to make double that on a good Saturday – we had to have three kids working here.’ He sighed and I felt happy I’d be out of here in a couple of hours so I wouldn’t have to listen to him go on all night.
Vince took two bottle of Sprite, opened one and handed the other to me.
‘That’s for being such as a good little worker,’ he said. ‘I wish Colin was as good as you. You’re reliable. That’s what an employer wants. Thanks for your help tonight.’
I took it warily and watched him carefully as he went to the backroom again. What was the sudden free Sprite and encouraging words? Totally unlike Vince. Then again, Eric had put me on edge. Perhaps it was just me being super sensitive. Even so, I was glad to get out of there.
Not that home was much better. Dad picked me up and I could immediately smell the stale, sweat-tinge aroma of beer on him. Two unopened beer bottles of Carlton Draught in an otherwise-empty six-pack lay on the back seat. He’d obviously been around at Dave’s again. Dave the home motor-mechanic was his boozy mate. My mother never really liked Dave but since her death Dad had spent a lot of time at his bachelor pad (Dave’s wife left him years ago and he never seems to hang on to his girlfriends). What did they talk about? Nothing much, if Dave’s conversation was anything to go by. All he seemed to do was tell corny jokes. It was always a good excuse to do my homework or listen to music in my room when Dave came around. He reminded me of Barney from The Simpsons.
‘Good day?’ asked Dad, reversing the car.
‘Yeah. OK,’ I lied. I didn’t think telling Dad that I’d just become part of a local pirate distribution ring would go down to well.
‘Anything exciting happen?’
I looked out of the window at the flaky, faded Video Saloon sign. Video Loon.
‘No. Nothing out of the ordinary,’ I said, continuing to stare at the sign. ‘Just the usual.’