Summer 2005
Rumor has it that Jean-Francois made an unauthorized Trans-Atlantic phone call from his corner office (cubicle) at around 3:27PM Eastern Standard Time. The motifs and the outcome of that phone call are still surrounded by a mystery, as well as his whereabouts ever since he left the building that rainy Thursday afternoon.
Since early morning that very same day his co-workers noticed him acting a bit strange, looking at his watch like if it was already Friday afternoon and mumbling something about the time difference between Europe and the North American East Coast. His co-workers have no idea what he meant by "Europe", maybe is a new client, or a new restaurant, or perhaps one of his new love interests, but no one is one hundred percent sure about it.
The last person to see him on his floor and with his tie still in place was one of his co-workers. Under the most strict secrecy he let us know that Jean-Francois was looking out of the window, like staring at the infinite on the eastern side of the office building, mumbling something about "Europe". It was kind of strange, because even though he likes to watch the sunset, it always happens on the opposite side of the building and never as early as four thirty in the afternoon.
Through his reflection on the window, this very same co-worker saw that his eyes were kind of red, like if he'd been smoking weed for weeks -maybe those rumors are true after all. As this gentleman approached strange Jean-Francois, he recalls greeting him with a very casual "Wass up your ass today, man?". Next thing, Jean-Francois turns slowly around looking at him like a hungry lion on methamphetamines and fires back a very polite yet very clear "FUCK OFF!".
The receptionist and the security guard assure us that he left the building at some point between five o'clock and quarter after six, they couldn't really agree on an exact time. Footage from the security cameras would show, few weeks later, that they were making out in the utility room at the exact time Jean-Francois stormed outside the building breathing fire and looking for a brawl.
Experts from CSI-Charlotte concluded that those tire marks on the parking lot belong to a small yet powerful "rear traction car" whose owner floor it while exiting towards the main road. As only a handful of executives have reserved parking spaces, the experts concluded that it may belong to any person working at the building. Human Resources records showed, though, that Jean-Francois had been late for work for the last couple weeks, and that those marks on the pavement match those lazy-ass bastards that arrive late and have to park at the end of the parking area. Is not conclusive, but it ties a lot of loose ends.
A SWAT team was dispatched to south Charlotte were the suspect lives, and upon arriving to the target location they gave a positive identification of that little red car with a 2.4 L engine. Armed with shotguns, M-16s and several rocket launchers they knocked on the door with no luck. The mat at the entrance of his condo said "Come Back with a Warrant!", so they knew they were dealing with an expert and stopped short of storming his one room condo marked with the letter D.
A very sweet lady that lives downstairs from the runaway criminal saw all the confusion and offered to help. She recalled that so-called Jean-Francois came to North Carolina early this century after escaping a mental institution in South America, where he'd been with a straight jacket and in solitary confinement for the last ten years. She then recalled over and over again some stories of her when she was young and even brought her cat and started making different voices as if the cat was talking with everybody around. The commander of the SWAT team tried to tell her in a very gentle way that she was repeating the same story over and over again and that they had things to do, but she nodded and started again. Up to this day the SWAT team is still sitting in her living room listening to her stories and their fingers are getting nervously closer to the triggers. But this information hasn't been confirmed.
Later that rainy Thursday some astray labs saw someone who matches Monsieur Jean-Francois' description jogging down Colony road towards the Arboretum shopping mall. He was wearing a tight black tee shirt and his Oakley sunglasses. At some point he almost ran into a light post, making investigators believe that even though he wears prescription glasses, those are just regular Oakleys.
Further examination of his file has revealed that the Barnes&Noble bookstore at the Arboretum Shopping Mall brings back a lot of memories of some old flame he once had and that maybe he was heading there. But that part of his file, summer of 2005, has been thorn apart and remains missing up to this day.
Successive investigators have agreed that maybe was then, in the glitter of that remote summer of 2005 that the rift in his life began, or was perhaps his excessive desire for that girl only the first evidence of an inherent singularity. . .
Since early morning that very same day his co-workers noticed him acting a bit strange, looking at his watch like if it was already Friday afternoon and mumbling something about the time difference between Europe and the North American East Coast. His co-workers have no idea what he meant by "Europe", maybe is a new client, or a new restaurant, or perhaps one of his new love interests, but no one is one hundred percent sure about it.
The last person to see him on his floor and with his tie still in place was one of his co-workers. Under the most strict secrecy he let us know that Jean-Francois was looking out of the window, like staring at the infinite on the eastern side of the office building, mumbling something about "Europe". It was kind of strange, because even though he likes to watch the sunset, it always happens on the opposite side of the building and never as early as four thirty in the afternoon.
Through his reflection on the window, this very same co-worker saw that his eyes were kind of red, like if he'd been smoking weed for weeks -maybe those rumors are true after all. As this gentleman approached strange Jean-Francois, he recalls greeting him with a very casual "Wass up your ass today, man?". Next thing, Jean-Francois turns slowly around looking at him like a hungry lion on methamphetamines and fires back a very polite yet very clear "FUCK OFF!".
The receptionist and the security guard assure us that he left the building at some point between five o'clock and quarter after six, they couldn't really agree on an exact time. Footage from the security cameras would show, few weeks later, that they were making out in the utility room at the exact time Jean-Francois stormed outside the building breathing fire and looking for a brawl.
Experts from CSI-Charlotte concluded that those tire marks on the parking lot belong to a small yet powerful "rear traction car" whose owner floor it while exiting towards the main road. As only a handful of executives have reserved parking spaces, the experts concluded that it may belong to any person working at the building. Human Resources records showed, though, that Jean-Francois had been late for work for the last couple weeks, and that those marks on the pavement match those lazy-ass bastards that arrive late and have to park at the end of the parking area. Is not conclusive, but it ties a lot of loose ends.
A SWAT team was dispatched to south Charlotte were the suspect lives, and upon arriving to the target location they gave a positive identification of that little red car with a 2.4 L engine. Armed with shotguns, M-16s and several rocket launchers they knocked on the door with no luck. The mat at the entrance of his condo said "Come Back with a Warrant!", so they knew they were dealing with an expert and stopped short of storming his one room condo marked with the letter D.
A very sweet lady that lives downstairs from the runaway criminal saw all the confusion and offered to help. She recalled that so-called Jean-Francois came to North Carolina early this century after escaping a mental institution in South America, where he'd been with a straight jacket and in solitary confinement for the last ten years. She then recalled over and over again some stories of her when she was young and even brought her cat and started making different voices as if the cat was talking with everybody around. The commander of the SWAT team tried to tell her in a very gentle way that she was repeating the same story over and over again and that they had things to do, but she nodded and started again. Up to this day the SWAT team is still sitting in her living room listening to her stories and their fingers are getting nervously closer to the triggers. But this information hasn't been confirmed.
Later that rainy Thursday some astray labs saw someone who matches Monsieur Jean-Francois' description jogging down Colony road towards the Arboretum shopping mall. He was wearing a tight black tee shirt and his Oakley sunglasses. At some point he almost ran into a light post, making investigators believe that even though he wears prescription glasses, those are just regular Oakleys.
Further examination of his file has revealed that the Barnes&Noble bookstore at the Arboretum Shopping Mall brings back a lot of memories of some old flame he once had and that maybe he was heading there. But that part of his file, summer of 2005, has been thorn apart and remains missing up to this day.
Successive investigators have agreed that maybe was then, in the glitter of that remote summer of 2005 that the rift in his life began, or was perhaps his excessive desire for that girl only the first evidence of an inherent singularity. . .
Jean-Francois was drunk at 6:10 PM
1 Comments:
I'm a sucker for cute puppies, no matter what surrounds them.:)
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