Sucker Punch – 10 October 2014

Posted: October 10, 2014 in Dialog, Prose
Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,

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10 October 2014

“Good morning, Dennis. Is everything alright? I missed you yesterday.”

I said, “Yesterday I overslept. Luckily my wife had a late shift and was able to drive me to work.”

“When you say you overslept, was it because of what you were doing in bed before you went to sleep. You dog.”

I asked, “What have you been up to?”

“I was at the hospital, my grandson had a heart attack.”

I said, “I’m sorry to hear that, Chuck. How old is he?

He’s only 54. It’s the life he’s led, fights, drinking, drugs and smoking. He’s cut out the drugs and drinking, but refuses to quit smoking. I said to him, “You silly jackass. All your life you’ve been making the wrong choices. Think of it this way, ‘You smoke, you die.’ I’ve been through the same thing myself.  I can’t make it any clearer for you.

“He loves to fight. One time he’d bought some drugs on credit. He was to pay for them in a week. The dealer was with a motorcycle gang. There was a misunderstanding about payment and my grandson was beaten up. He walked into the biker bar where the club met. Sat down with some of the big shots from the club, slammed his fist down on the table, and explained why he didn’t owe them money. They’d get it on payday.

“There was a punk wannabe who thought he’d score some points with the club. He sucker punched my grandson in the side of the head and knocked him to the floor. My grandson got up and broke the guy’s nose. So much for the wannabe’s chances of impressing the club. He slunk off to a corner to nurse his broken nose.

“That was the kind of trouble he got into all through his life.

“On to something entirely different. I was invited out to dinner at a fancy restaurant. I wanted to make a good impression, and my fingernails were looking pretty rough. I went to one of those nail places you see in the malls. I noticed a lot of pretty Asian women there. One of them came up to me and said, ‘We have a hot tub in the back. How many of us would you like.?’ I said, ‘I didn’t know what kind of place this was. I just came in to get my nails done.’ It sure was tempting. I had tree hundred dollars in my pocket, but I had plans for the night. I still think of what could have happened if I took her up on her offer.

I asked, “Do you have any plans for Thanksgiving?”

“No, I’m going to pick up a small chicken. Some potatoes and… the word escapes me… It’s a vegetable, yellow, turnip, that’s what it is. I’m going to get one of those baby turnips, they’re nice and sweet. I’ll mix some breadcrumbs with eggs to make them stick together, add some spices, then stuff it into the chicken. How about you?”

“We’re having a small dinner with my son. There will just be the three of us. We’ll be doing that on Monday. Saturday and Sunday we’ll be Pulling in the dock, closing the cabin for winter and trying to keep the squirrels out.

“ENjoy your weekend, Chuck. I’ll see you on Tuesday.”

“Happy Thanksgiving, Dennis.”

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Comments
  1. chewfronta says:

    What an exemplary approach to helping some of those who most need our help. You inspire me. By following my blog you have notified me about yours, which is worthy of, at the least, reciprocation. A tiny thanx for following and humongous thanx for your works.

    Like

  2. anchorrock4 says:

    Great post, Dennis, as usual.

    Like

  3. dbp49 says:

    Very enjoyable, the dialogue is right on sir.

    Like

  4. mysnicka says:

    You have to read between the lines on this one, well, at least I did anyway. I think I got the gist of it though. Heavy stuff, delivered in a light format. I like it.

    Like

  5. mkvecchitto says:

    Moving story! I’m so happy to have found your blog.

    Like

  6. smbaird says:

    Wonderful writing.

    Like

  7. kinley65 says:

    I bought a homeless guy lunch today. He fed me this endless spiel about how he’d gotten mugged at a train station and was waiting on money so he could go home. Then it was some crap about his mother and sister and it all sounded both fake and real at the same time. He took off his shoes and showed me his steaming blister-covered feet. I could tell that he thought this would open up my wallet. I bought lunch for him because I was bored and lonely. I could tell that he was a skilled liar, user and probably a drunk. It didn’t seem to matter. I sat back and enjoyed the whole ridiculous conversation. It was sad and yet somehow eased my mind.

    Like

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