Thursday, June 27, 2013

3 random true stories told in Hemingway style

There was a time that I worked as a valet.  It was an easy job while pursuing my masters degree.  I got very good at parking cars.  Carl worked there.  He was a janitor.  He had a cul de sac for a hairline with a small tuft of hair on the top.  He was very smart.  When he saw me he would ask what I learned today. I would reply "humility".  He always laughed.  We were friends.   He reminded me of Matt Damon in Good Will Hunting; but if Matt Damon's character was black and no one ever found out he was a genius.  I felt bad for him sometimes.  I imagined him going back to his apartment alone after work.  We would wash the wall paint off his hands. He would finish reading Atlas Shrugged for the 5th time. He would flick off the light above his bed, and dream.

This job I had as a valet was at a hotel.  The hotel was very nice.  It was as if Vegas met Southern Living.  One day I met Mike Epps there.  He made me laugh. Cabs came to the hotel everyday.  We knew the cabbies well.  Stacy Adams was my favorite cabbie.  He was taller than I and about 150 pounds heavier.  He had funny stories of couples having sex in his cab.  He once was invited by a couple of swingers to a hot tub party.  According to him it was a fun party.  He once told me a story that I dont believe.  As he tells it he once had a fare.  She was an older woman.  She had a dog and the dog was small.  He didn't like the dog.  The dog barked too much.  He would take this woman and her dog to the grocery store every day.  One day as the old woman and her dog approached,  he barked loudly as a large dog would when provoked.  The old woman's small dog froze and fell to ground dead.

Yesterday I took my dog for a walk.  It was almost night.  The time when the trees turn black against the soon to be night sky.  My dog wandered to my neighbors front stoop.  I hoped Dizzy wouldn't shit there.  He didn't.  My neighbor is old.  He lives home alone mostly but sometimes his wife is there.  This night his wife was not there.  He came out of the house while Dizzy was sniffing his flowers.  He laughed and greeted me.  He always gets my name wrong. I never correct him out of respect. He's old after all. He had a letter in his hand. I wondered why but he told me before I could ask.  He was sending a letter our congressman.  He doesn't support gay marriage.  I lied to him in agreement and wished him a goodnight.

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