Monday, June 09, 2008
"Not cool at all when dealing with the insane.
My picture file is "corrupt".--that's what is says in the little talk balloon.
I am corrupt.
He, she, it-- is corrupt.
My government is corrupt. Afghanistan on the brain.
Egad, since I lost some teeth, I feel not only currupt, but also depraved.
Certainly looking like that with my gap-toothed smile.
Now, with my Damon Runyon appearance, I seem to be attracting every psychopath and loser on the block. People who look like me get taken a lot.
I am wating for a bus, snaggle- toothed and wing-weary, acase of beer empties in hand. A natural mark.
"Hah," the corner psychopath must have said to himself. "A loser. I wonder how I can exploit him."
So he come to me and says he will sell me a bus ticket for $2.50, where the regular fare is $3.00.
"Well, yeah. OK," I say as we board the bus.I give hime three dollars and expect change. "I'll get your change in a minute, he says.
He does not give me the ticket, but deposits the ticket he said he would sell me-- in in the farebox and immediately goes to take a seat at the back.
"How about the fifty cents you owe me?"
"Toldja up front. I'll see if it can find the change."
But he empties his pockets, turns them inside out. There is only the three dollars that I had given him.
"Told ya I'd just see if there was any change in my pockets.
Looks like he had been making this an issue with a lot of people. Now we have an argument, and it's all my fault.
He is convinced he is intelligent.
"What's the problem, Bud? You would have paid three dollars cash anyway. See, it goes like this..."
"I know how it goes," I say. "Now give me my fifty cents."
He now goes off on litany." See, you had intended to pay three dollars cash fare anyway. So we are both on our way and nobody loses. You did not understand that I told you I would look for your change, not necessarily find it."
&*&^%^-ing high level metaphysics.
He explains it to me again.
"But you conned me out of fity cents."
I swear I am back in Quebec, hearing another litany.
Je vous change. Tabernac. Je concur.
There are stupid bastards on both sides of the border.
All this mental energy, all the metaphysics, over fifty cents! He is convinced, like any con man, that he is smarter than me. But two sentences from him would convince anybody he is deranged --and does not know it.
Ah, but I have been to the school of repartee. There is almost a drumroll as I am about to speak. I have been to the school of repartee!
And now the utterance.
"F*ck off, asshole"
(Took years of university for this.)
Now the guy is a six-footer and has the build of an athlete. I don't care.
Cut off stupidity at the pass. Always.
So this is how wars start!
And now his elegant reply. "You fuck off. I told you I would look for the change; didn't say I had it.
Made me think of a poem about a sadist and the springtime robin.
"I smiled sweetly at his song
And as there passed a lull
I gently closed the window
And crushed his F*cking skull.
How did this asshole walk into the middle of my good mood?
Was all this worth fifty cents?
Crikey, next would come the cuture derby and the short hair count.
All right. Woof her out. We'll see who has the biggest one.
But he slunk off at the next stop and got off.
Upbraid not a fool and he will think himself wise.
Upbraid a fool, and you will make him vain in being noticed.
It was all very Dostoevkian. The left-going zax and the right-going zax.
I am convinced tht Dr. Seuss was not writing for children.
Simplicity always overcomes complexity.
But which one of us was complex?
I do not like green eggs and ham.