True Story©… Used to Be the Man
I’m a pretty unmistakable
guy. Even in public in a mask, people
can usually tell who I am from sight distance.
My walk, my watch, my hair – even my beard poking out the sides and
bottom of the mask. Add the whimsy of
the mask itself and people tend to recognize me when they see me out.
Even when I wish I had been able to hide from them.
After the Rona
scare where I was miraculously the only one who didn’t get it, we came to the
family decision that of anyone was to venture out for sundries, I would be sacrificed
the one to do it. Still no wanton
browsing, digging around in the mall for bullshit and my Hot Wheels searching
field trips are usually baked into Wal Mart and Dollar General runs.
This story isn’t directly about that…
Recently, on one
of those early-morning – I had to learn to go to the grocery store at 7am when
y’all started wilding over fucking toilet paper in April – runs to Food Lion
down near the house for coffee creamer and toilet paper (ß
for the first time since April actually) before coming back to the house to
start work promptly at 7:57am, I heard someone calling me from the other end of
the aisle.
“Phil…
PHIL!”
Those that know me closest know how much I detest being called “Phil,” enough
so that that address me by my whole first name or my nickname. Given it was 7am, I had not looked back to
see who it was, I did the “determined shopper” thing to act like I just hadn’t
heard him and turned left at the end of the aisle to go get my creamer.
That wouldn’t be
enough though. Coming from the dairy
section, I was face-to-face with an old high school acquaintance. Y’all may remember him as the pyramid schemer
from a while ago and now more than ever I wished I had gone to the Wal Mart
across the street instead of to this particular store.
Him: “W’sup man, how you been?”
Me: “Maintaining.”
Him: “I feel it.
I wanted to apologize for what happened at that church that night.”
Me: “Yeah, that was nuts.”
Him: “You telling me. I tried to call you but the number ain’t in
service and your Facebook and IG were gone too?”
Me: “I lost a 20 year run of avoiding crazy-ass
exes in a big way and had to get off social media and change my number.”
Him: “Damn dog.”
Me: “Right.”
Him: “So what you doing these days?”
Me: “Same shit.
Working, staying safe in these Rona streets.”
Him: “I mean, like business-wise.”
Me: “Working…
Investing in stocks and crypto.”
Him: “Oh, okay.
So you don’t think you might be willing to give my opportunity from
before a try?”
Me: “I’m good, man.”
Him: “I know you good, but you ain’t trying to be
great?”
Me: “Look.
My job pays me good money, time spent stuck in the house has taught me
to turn my money over in the market without having to sell people
anything. I’m on the way to great.”
Him: “Well damn, maybe you could put me on.”
Just like in high
school. This motherfucker is a ton of
talk and activity with little accomplishment to show for it. He got sold into this bullshit and now wants
to be walked out of it and into an easier solution.
Me: *looks at watch* “Look, I gotta get to the house and let my
dogs out and get to work.”
Him: “Aight man.”
Great. I had
successfully changed the subject without having to actually DO anything or even
come clean that my phone number and social media have not changed other than
blocking him from them. My still-public
Twitter exists to prove that part. Shit,
the same Google that has taught me to do the shit is available to him! Damned copycats.
Generally, the
anonymity provided from not being one of those “I was the man in high school” cats means that I can go through my life
without really being seen by people who were there with me, even if they DO see
me. The problem is apparently when
someone who should remember better than to think that I would fuck with them
now 25 years later sees me as some kind of easy mark or something is
bothersome.
I cut this dude
loose much easier this time than I did last time. Inevitably, I will see him again. This city – while third largest in the state
and 66th in the country – is by no means “little,” so I am sure our
paths will cross.
When we do, and IF he tries me again, he meets Moe Phillips.
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