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Friday, July 30, 2010

I'm a Lover, Not a Fighter

When I got to the bagel shop, the guy was waiting there. I don't remember his name. Let's call him Apollo. You know, like Creed? He was big and he looked like he was getting ready to be quite pissed. He had neglected to tell me that he had brought his friend, Ivan Drago (also not his real name), to help him. Ivan was even bigger than he was and had more tattoos. His forearm was bigger than my head. He was chewing something. First I thought it was a bagel; then I thought maybe it was his cud.
I tried to explain to them what had happened. The doctor told me that I could keep my bird, wasn't that wonderful, I said. They did not think it was wonderful. Apollo looked like he wanted to rip my throat out. I was waiting for him to yell "sic 'em!" to the other neanderthal. Instead he just fumed quietly. That was even scarier. He told me about the panel truck that he had rented. Rented. When he had told me about it on the phone, he had borrowed it. I told him I felt really lousy about how things had played out and offered to pay for half of the rental fee. But I held my ground: Oscar was no longer for sale. Just as I thought he was going to pick up the table and crack it over my head, he told me that if I ever change my mind and was willing to take less money, I should give him a call. I went home and changed my pants.

4 comments:

  1. That picture is disgusting...catching up on stuff....

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  2. Adrian was one of the nurses at Columbia. Actually, that wasn't really her name, but when I told her to call you Rocky, she told me that he name was Adrian. Me being stupid that way, believed her and proceeded to call her Adrian for the remainder of the day. BTW, she answered to that name. It wasn't till later when one of your kids told me that she was joking, that I felt like a total fool. I can't believe that I don't remember her real name.

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  3. You told me that story already, and I actually REMEMBER it!

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