The VP guy at my previous employer who had this certain accent so when he said “We need to focus” it sounded just like “We need to fuck us.”
And what happened to another guy named Richie? Not sure if that’s his real name, but it’s what everyone calls him. He always wore what appeared to be a firefighter’s jacket. He can’t be a real firefighter though. For one thing the patch isn’t on straight. I’m pretty sure the fire department uniform department would be up on something like that. He also doesn’t strike me as the courageous type. If he ever saw a fire he’d run like the hills, of that I’m pretty sure. I do miss when he had his scooter. He had this crazy looking helmet, all white with a dark face plate that covered his whole head, like some astronaut in a real bad cheesy sci-fi movie from the 1950s. I know he had a big crush on my sister but… no.
The girl in the old coffee shop, which no longer exists. The counter girl that was so unnerving to me. It wasn’t the one with the rose tattoo on her neck just below her left ear and the cute ass (also what happened to her?), but the little Indian girl, with the stud jewelry in her nose. What got to me was the way she spoke. As people waited in line and the next person up to be called, there it was. “Can I help you?” in some high pitched squeal. “Something to eat? Stretch that out as you say though – Somethiiiiing tooooo eeeeeeeeat???? Arrrgh. “You neeeeeed traaaay?” Also the pitch rose as the sentence came close to it’s climactic ending. It’s was an unnatural feeling to me, like nails against a chalkboard. Probably moved back home for all I know.
There’s the Diddler. So named because he always walks around with his hands in his front pockets loaded with jingling change. He always seemed like a lonely guy to me. We saw him not too long ago at the theater when I won two free tickets to see Jack Nicholson ‘s One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. He appears to have a friend now. That makes me glad somehow. We all deserve some happiness.
Then there was the old woman I saw a couple of times in an Irish tavern called The Burren. I’m not sure why but I was having breakfast or brunch there one weekend years ago. I can distinctly remember her ordering pancakes and dark Guinness beer. This is at like 9 in the morning! She must have been in her late 80s. Anyways somehow she got to talking and wouldn’t stop saying how Jackie Onassis was one big no good whore. Maybe this woman knew JFK back in the day? Not sure what beef she had with the lady but she was adamant about it. She must be gone by now.
Oh, there are many more I wonder what fate befallen some of these folks. The ‘sheriff’ – some dude who thought he was a cop, except his police badge is something that a 6 year old boy would pick out of the toy section. Maybe he finally got busted for impersonating a police officer? Or ‘Elmer Flood’ – a guy who kind of looks and acts just like Elmer Fudd. Actually, still see him around occasionally walking by. The woman who resembled Lynda Carter who worked at the counter of the old Richdale’s next door to the pizza shop and was secretly(?) screwing the neighbor (who thought he looked like Elvis but I didn’t see it) around the corner in his driveway while his wife was cooking pasta upstairs, and if you happened to pass by and casually look over there you would’ve seen a sight. Elvis has left the building! Connie, the Irish lass who lived behind the pizza joint where she worked, and let us hang out one night. Years later I think she was dating one of my high school buddies but that’s long past. Dottie, with the glass eye, who at a dive called Sligo’s would pop it out and put in a glass with ice to freak everyone out.
What a bunch of characters. The best one though would have to be the guy with the goatee and glasses, just quietly looking around. He seemed like he was a normal, wicked-pissah cool guy, but who knows what he’s thinking.