Tag: random

Making amends

When I worked at the finance company I was presented with some difficult but wonderful challenges. The company was going through some growing pains and I was immediately tasked with some big issues. Their need was in the “back end” of the business. That is a nice way of saying “repo”.

When I joined the company they were being inundated with cars coming back due to bad loans. My background in appraisals and remarketing proved to be a valuable asset. I had connections with auctions all over the country, offered alternative outlets such as salvage auctions and private sales, and I created a valuable network of tow companies.

One particular tow operator was a local guy named Mike. I essentially inherited him when I joined the company but his role was minimal and I expanded it. I always try to do business with a local guy, it’s just good business.

Mike is a really likable guy, the kind of person I enjoy doing business with. He was a independent with one truck but willing to work all day to earn a living. I gave him a lot of tows. He did a pretty good job for me for a few months and then I began noticing a side of him that didn’t work for me…he “Yes’d” me to death and wasn’t honest about his availability. He was growing his business through AAA tows and had begun to fall behind. He failed to tell me that he hadn’t gotten to previous assignments while gladly accepting new ones, which chaffed my ass greatly. I had to cut him back.

It wasn’t long before Mike came to see me in my office to apologize for his underwhelming performance. We talked at length. I told him how the demands of my job required a more reliable transporter and that I would keep him on but on a more limited basis. He reached across my desk with his big, greasy hand and shook mine, thanking me. He was hard not to like.

Mike continued to work for me for many years and was of great service on the AAA end of things helping me and my family with our five cars.

One Saturday I was getting ready to go out and my car wouldn’t start. I tried jumping it, it was dead. I called Mike and asked him if he could help. He was there in 15 minutes.

He pulled in with his rusty old Ford pickup, his dog and wife in the cab with him. I said hi to his wife, a very unpleasant and morbidly obese woman who I had never seen smile. She grunted in my direction.

Mike somehow got my car started. I asked him if he took credit cards. He didn’t. I was at a loss. I had no cash on me. He said don’t worry about it, remarking that I give him so much work that it more than worked out. I sheepishly thanked him.

His wife scowled at me.

I always felt bad about that day. Yes, I did give him a lot of work but I should have been able to pay him. I lost my job soon after. Mike and I lost touch.

Last week I saw on FB that he had a birthday. It caused me to reflect on my past dealings with him and how much I liked him. I decided that it was time to right a wrong. I took out my checkbook and made out a check for $100.00. I grabbed my stationary and wrote a short note.

Mike, I always felt bad about never paying you for the AAA service years ago. You’re a good man and you deserve better. Please accept this check as good will for a good deed.
Take care,
Bill

I mailed it that day. He FB inboxed me 3 days later thanking me. He said I shouldn’t have. I disagree.

My mother likes to tell me that I am determined to spend every penny I have. What she doesn’t get is that I am charitable within my means and I am not afraid to make amends.

Besides, the check to Mike isn’t about money.

It’s about respect.

Finish The Story–The final hunt part 7

sAll about Life has tagged me for something new today and that’s to add to a story originally started by Teresa, the Haunted Wordsmith; it’s like a kind of blogging relay race apparently. This is the story so far……

Teresa’s Part:

Anne and Gladys waved as the men left for their hunt. When they were out of sight, they both laughed knowing full well that none would have the heart to really shoot anything. They liked a boy’s day out as much as they liked a girl’s day in.

“So,” Fred said as they passed the gate into his family’s hunting grounds. “What do you think the girls are up to today?”

Alec laughed. “Talking about us, what else?”

Sam nodded. “Yep.”

As they walked through the fields into the tree line, the dogs’ ears’ picked up. Boy whimpered and cowered close to Fred’s legs. Toby’s fur stood on edge as he stared into the woods and growled.

“Easy there,” Alec said, trying to calm him.

Sam kneeled and unzipped his gun as quietly as possible. Suddenly, both dogs were on alert as a …

Morpethroad wrote:

small, bespectacled man stepped through the bushes. The dogs were going berserk by now straining at their leashes. It was clear the dogs sensed a danger the men did not see.

The man walking towards them was squinting as he approached as he had the sun in his eyes.

“Good afternoon,” he said as he drew near, “your dogs won’t bite will they? I do have a fear of them.”

Sam stood with his gun in his hands unsure of what he was seeing and hearing. The place they were in was a piece of rugged bushland, no one lived there because it was the family’s hunting grounds and it was considered unsafe to even camp on the land for any reason at all.

Fred was trying his best to hold onto his dog, and Alec held firm on Toby’s collar. Once the small man came within a few feet of the hunting party, they could see…

Pensitivity101 continues:

he was holding something in a plastic bag.

Fred lost his grip and Boy lunged at the man who dropped the bag on the ground and threw his arms up to protect his face.

Fred was afraid they would have to shoot the dog but Boy wasn’t interested in the man at all, just the bag, which he snatched up and obediently brought back to his master.

The little man was shaking with fear as Sam reached out his hand to help him up.

“You realise you’re trespassing don’t you?” he said.

The man straightened his glasses and collected himself.

“I’m sorry about that, but we’d received a repor….”

“We? Who is we? And what are you doing here? You could have been shot!”

Fred had taken the bag out of Boy’s mouth and stared at the contents in disbelief.

“Guys? I think you need to look at this.”

Sadje’s contribution:

Sam and Alec stepped forward to take a look at what was in the bag. Fred’s hand, clutching the bag, was trembling. The bag contained a severed hand, the digits were shaped like a claw. But it was like no human hand they had ever seen. It was like it belonged to someone very big and skinny.

“Whe…, Ahm….Where did you find this?” Alec uttered the question through vocal cords which were refusing to cooperate. Sam and Fred were looking askance at the stranger. The whole situation had taken on a nightmarish quality.

The man, again made an attempt to introduce himself. “I am Bennett, from The Agency of Alien Detection, TAAD. We received the alien activity signals from this area and a party has been investigating the situation. This is part of the remains we were able to recover. Do you have any information regarding this?”

The three men stared at him with gapping mouth and glazed looks. Who in their right mind would believe this man. But the evidence was in their hands.

Sam took the bag from Fred and was going to examine it closely when…

Cheryl added:

…when the bag’s contents started moving. The claw-like severed hand was scratching at the plastic bag. Sam dropped it like a hot potato! The boys started to freak out and started to whimper. The spectacled man even stepped back. “Oh my,” Bennett stuttered, “I thought it was, uh, uh, dead!”

Sam kept his gun at the ready. There was no way this “thing” was going to hurt the boys. Bennett fumbled nervously in his pocket to retrieve what looked like a cell phone, but was actually a communicator to the rest of the landing crew. His face seemed to change shape a bit and he started to adjust his hair. Sam looked at the little man with more than just curiosity. Who was this guy, really?

This was Fandango’s contribution

“Do not touch that bag!” Bennett, who was no longer a small, bespectacled, unimposing man, shouted. He had suddenly grown taller. His skin took on a shiny, reddish tone and his hands took on the same claw-like shape of the severed hand in the bag. The three men stepped back and even the two dogs stopped barking and cowered.

“What are you?” Alec asked. “you definitely are not human.”

“No,” Bennett admitted, “I am not. My companion and I were sent here from our home planet to explore your planet. Our mission was peaceful. Our intent was merely to collect air and mineral samples. We intended no harm. But then we encountered a hostile group of creatures who jumped my companion. I’m ashamed to say that I ran for cover, while these creatures devoured my companion. All that was left of him was the hand that I put in the bag. But he is apparently beginning the regeneration process.”

“Creatures? What kind of creatures?” Sam asked.

“Similar to those,” Bennett said, pointing to the two dogs, “but larger and much more viscous.”

“Wolves,” Fred said.

Sam raised his rifle and aimed it at the alien. “Sam, what are you doing?” Alec shouted.

Suddenly…

Now over to me:

There was a noise overhead and both Alec and Sam turned sharply to try and identify it’s source; necks craning upwards they searched the sky but there was nothing other than a dense cloud bank.

“Looks like there’s a storm coming” said Alec “Perhaps it was thunder we heard”

He turned to look at Sam who had resumed his position; stock still with his gun aimed at Bennett’s head

“That wasn’t thunder, was it Mr Bennett?” Sam said quietly

“Sam! Please put down your gun, there’s no need for threats, Mr Bennett has explained that he has no beef with us, he’s just doing some research”

Alec was surprised at his friend’s behaviour especially as Boy and Toby were no longer agitated but laying peacefully at their feet. In his experience dogs were far better attuned to sense danger than any human.

“And you believe him do you?” Sam was absolutely rigid and he spoke from the corner of his mouth through clenched teeth as though in mortal terror or suppressed anger, Alec couldn’t be sure which.

“Yes I believe him Sam now put the gun down for God’s sake before some gets hurt”

Alec was becoming genuinely concerned, they were both hunters but he knew from long experience that Sam was not a violent man. He stepped forward to try to placate his friend and persuade him to drop his weapon.= but just then the sky darkened and………..

MY contribution:

They were slammed to the ground by a sudden, swirling and violent thrust of downward pressure. The trees bent outwards in futile surrender as they were pelted by leaves and underbrush. The noise was deafening. The dogs, unable to stand, yelped as they crawled towards the outskirts of the clearing. Sam, having lost his tenuous grip on the shotgun, helplessly watched as it was flung beyond his sight. He found himself being tossed around on the forest floor as he tried to find something to hold onto. He cried out to Alec who was frantically hugging the base of a tree at least 20 feet away.

“Alec! What the ever loving f&*k is going on?!” He shouted. As the words left his mouth he knew that the cacophony around him had drowned him out.

Alec, instead of futilely trying to shout over the deafening noise waved his right arm, his left clinging to the tree base, caught Sam’s attention and frantically pointed upwards, jabbing at the forest ceiling.

Suddenly branches and debris began raining down upon them and both men cowered under the onslaught. Sam forced himself to look up. Squinting and covering his eyes with one hand he could see a large object slowly lowering itself into the clearing, effortlessly forcing aside the trees that dared block its descent.

The heat was overwhelming, Sam could only presume it was exhaust.

But from what?

He scrambled to escape the clearing. Alec, with a sudden burst of brevity let go of the tree and did a military crawl to join his friend. Once he reached Sam they locked arms and watched what they could only presume was Bennett’s ride home finish it’s descent.

I tag Steve @ MSich Chronicles to take it to the next level.

These are the rules:

1. Copy the story as you receive it.
2. Add to the story in some fashion.
3. Tag another person to contribute to or finish the story.
4. Please use FTS as a tag so Teresa can find it or link back to part 1.
5. Have Fun!

Self-Jus Jot Jan day #8

Self – #JusJoJan Jot #8


The name’s Billy Mac
AKA Superman
I do what I can
for an ordinary man
no feat too small
no building too tall

by now you are laughing
at the image of me dashing
from sidewalk to phone booth
in search of the truth
because you already know
I’m really a regular Joe

For my entire married life
at least according to my wife
I would go out of my way
to save somebody else’s day
that my head is as thick
as a pile of bricks
I just don’t listen

Hell, I’m on a mission
by my own admission
to help anyone around
up off of the ground
I can’t afford it
my health can’t support it
but I do it for a reason
regardless of the season

You see, as long as I fret about
other people’s asses
I’m less worried about
how Nerdy I look
in these Clark Kent glasses

I can’t help it
I stopped trying to fight it
I gladly put it all on the shelf
before I worry about my own self



#Just Jot January-Day 7

Your prompt for JusJoJan 2019, January 7th is brought to you by Tara! Click here to find her last post and say hi while you’re there! Tara’s word for our prompt today is “memento.” Use it anywhere in your post or make it the theme of your post. Have fun!

#JusJoJan 2019 Daily Prompt – Jan. 7th


Together they sat

The cold winter night attacked the cab of the truck

demanding entry

they sat in silence

except for the noise of the idling motor

and the heat blowing on their cold, tired bodies

It had been a long day

exhausted from trying to act happy

for people that did not matter

was anybody really fooled?

now they were alone

in palpable awkwardness

he was at fault

for the silence and discomfort

he had asked her to ride with him

knowing it could go one way

likely the wrong one

but he had something to say

“I still love you.” he blurted

she didn’t move or turn her head

she stared out the windshield

into the unforgiving darkness

her silence was deafening

he wanted to ask

“did you hear me?”

but he knew she did.

He wanted a response

even if he had to force it

but knew all that he had come to find out

it was too late

it was over

he changed the subject

“I found this picture of us.”

she stared ahead into the night

“It’s from when we were dating 25 years ago.’

she didn’t ask to see it

her case was made

a silent verdict reached

a judgment rendered

she didn’t love him anymore

she had moved on

fault, causality and blame

didn’t matter

he clutched the picture in his hand

rolled it through his fingers

he would keep it

it was a precious memento

of a great story

that had run its course

Just Jot it January Day # 6

Master – #JusJoJan Jot #6

Today’s word is “master.”

I felt weak
yet I acted strong

I was sad on the outside
but smiled without

I worried, fretted, and sweated
but smiled and grinned

I ached, stung and wanted to quit
but I kept plugging along

I watched you play with a proud grin
I wanted to join you

I didn’t have it in me

you asked me if I knew, but refused to admit
that the walls were closing in

you later chastised me for acting strong
when I was anything but

what you never learned about me
it would help me if you would…

is that I am the master of letting you know
only what I want you to

I’ll worry about you
leave me to me

#SoCS & #JusJoJan Jot # 5

#Soc Saturday/#Just Jot it January

#SoCS & #JusJoJan Jot #5 – Sip

Your prompt for #JusJoJan and Stream of Consciousness Saturday is: “sap/sep/sip/sop/sup.” Use one or all of these words or find a word that contains them, but most of all, have fun! Wondering what to do with “sep”? This is interesting: https://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=SEP Enjoy!

With youth there is an acceptable level of selfishness allowed. As we walk the path of growth we are expected to clamor for what is ours, to find our place and develop our own persona. If life were a glass of water, a younger me would gulp it down, slam the glass on the counter and demand more. Without regard for whether the person next to me is thirsty.

With age I have learned that the person next to me matters. That they may be dehydrated by life. That the contents of their glass won’t satiate them.

I have thankfully learned to sip from my glass, wait to see if my thirst is quenched, and if possible pass the glass so that they might satisfy theirs.

After all, the great “half-full or half-empty” debate is a misnomer. The glass is refillable.

The enigma that is man…Just Jot it January

#JusJoJan 2019 Daily Prompt – Jan. 4th

Today’s prompt is enigma.

I don’t understand…

Why, centuries after man embarked on the ages of “Enlightenment” and “Reason” we are more devoid of both than in any period in history…

Why the least accomplished generation ever is the most over-documented and photographed…

Why we have devolved into listening only with the intent of waiting our turn to speak and ignoring what is being said…

Why we have so much ability to judge and almost none to evaluate and improve our own selves…

Why we continue to hate and murder in the name of “religions” that proclaim peace and love..

Why we use people and idolize things when we should idolize people and use things…

Why we harnessed the laws of Science and Nature to create pollution and weapons capable of destroying both…

Why we chastise those of color and then lie in the sun to look like them…

Why we chase the appearance of youth when we should be embracing the grace and wisdom of our years…

Why we idolize the wealthy celebrity and demonize the calloused hands of the working man…

Man truly is an enigma, wrapped in a riddle, surrounded by a puzzle.

I don’t get it..

Give a little, get a lot

There’s an old adage that states:
“You can’t help those who can’t help themselves.”

While this is largely true there is a caveat. You still need to try.

It all started with a phone call from a friend and Masonic brother after 10 PM on a Saturday night in October. Despite the bond between Masonic brothers being mighty and strong, the late hour, and that this particular brother is long-winded and hard to get off the phone, I chose to let it go to voicemail. He immediately texted me imploring me to call him. I did.

He was in jail.

It turns out my Masonic brother, who is held to a higher standard by our fraternity and by his own commitment to be a better all-around man, was pulled over for speeding and then arrested for outstanding warrants. He was unlicensed, uninsured and in violation of not paying 2 years of child support. He needed my help, in particular he needed money. His car was impounded and he needed 500 dollars.

I offered my ear, the full extent of my advice and any resources I had to offer but I had no money to give. I implored him to reach out to his family. What he then told me made me realize that I actually knew very little about my friend.

I always knew that he was under-employed. When I reconnected with him 7 years ago (we were friends in HS) he was working part time which I thought was odd for a man my age with children. What I didn’t know, and learned that night, was that he hasn’t worked at all in 2 years. His girlfriend he lives with had finally grown tired of supporting him and asked him to move out. His mother refuses to have him stay at her house. His 2 ex wives hate him. He is in a deep depression, and he is blaming his current situation on it.

The temptation to be judgmental was overwhelming. I had serious questions and opinions on how he had let himself get into this situation. In particular how just getting a damn job could have prevented all of this. But it would have been kicking a man while he is down, it’s not my style and it isn’t helpful. I needed to help him then and kick his ass later.

I implored him to reach out to anyone in his family that he can borrow from to get his car out of impound. He called me the next morning, his son had stepped up and helped him.

I have seen him regularly since then. He still has no car or license, he has been sofa-hopping every night, a hearing for his support is pending and he isn’t working. To be fair, without a car or a mailing address he really can’t work. But in my heart of heart I knew that he wasn’t trying. He was doing the one thing I hate the most…feeling bad for himself. Still, I withheld judgement.

Last night he called me. The situation was critical. He is officially completely broke, has nowhere to stay and has noone to turn to. I talked to him for hours, but after hour 3 I realized that he has a fatal character flaw. He doesn’t listen, he merely waits to talk again. I wasn’t getting through to him. I verified that he had a place to sleep that night and ended the conversation for the night. I went to bed but didn’t sleep well. I was very worried about my friend.

This morning he called me early. He was in tears. He had been a closed off rock before, not being able to ask anyone for help and not taking advice, now he had finally lost it. He cried into the receiver about how he wanted to be a better man, how he couldn’t take feeling like this anymore but he didn’t know where to turn. For the first time, he was willing to hear my thoughts. I again resisted the urge to give some tough love, some hard advice. It still wasn’t the time. He needed some stability to get his tears out, not worry about where he would lay his head that night or where his next meal will come from. I told him to hold tight, that I would call him back.

Before I go any further let me say that if I wasn’t 100 miles away I would take him in in a second. But I can’t.

But I had another idea. A mutual friend and Masonic brother of ours had a spare room and had previously offered it to me. He had also mentioned that he would offer it to our friend if it absolutely came to that. I called him and told him that it had indeed come to that and I updated him on the status of our friend. We both agreed that something had to be done. Inaction could result in something tragic and neither of us could live with it having not done something.

He was open to the idea of letting our friend stay with him but he had some genuine, legitimate concerns. He is also struggling financially. He can barely feed himself and is wary of having another mouth to feed. This is a fair assessment, our friend doesn’t have any means to support himself and would need some generosity for a while. We talked about his own situation for a while. We had concluded that it would be a temporary help for our friend and other than financial, it wouldn’t put him out. In fact, he would welcome the company. But still, there was the matter of money.

I told him that I would give him a check for $200.00 to pay for enough groceries for one month. I really don’t have it to spare but I need to do something. He was taken back by my offer but grateful. He thanked me for the offer but he would have to call me back. He recognized the urgency but needed a moment to think. Before he hung up he asked me where our friend was staying. I gave him the address.

I just received a call from my distressed friend. He was picked up an hour ago and he is enroute to his temporary shelter. He tearfully thanked me for my assistance and pledged his undying gratitude. I told him to take the reprieve to assess, recover, relax and game plan his return to being a productive citizen.

I don’t know where he will be in a month. I plan on visiting them on Sunday to get a better feel for where he is going. I want to thank my friend and Masonic brother for putting our brother up. For now, I don’t have to worry about him succumbing to his depression.

I don’t have much in the way of assets, but I am always going to be as generous as my situation allows with what I do have. Empathy, a soft shoulder, a cache of hard-earned wisdom and a meager but consistent bank account can go a long way.

No-one can do everything. But everyone can do something.

Superman out.

a distinct and profound lack of motivation

To blog or not to blog…that is the question.

This is not one of those “I have nothing to write about so I’ll write about it” posts. I’ve just found it increasingly difficult to post lately. Health issues, daily life and a general lack of desire have consumed me. I have ideas, I have created many drafts waiting for some TLC and I have no intention of stopping. But I’m in a motivational rut.

I feel ok, not great. Dialysis kicks my ass to a certain degree. Despite all of the benefits, fatigue and washout are common the day of and often the next day as well. I may wake up eager to post but then I find I’m just too tired.

Dialysis is as time-consuming as a part-time job. My dialysis days have made it very difficult to find the time and energy to post. My time slot is 11:30 AM. I get up at 7. I watch the news and have my morning coffee. I take care of minor business like light housework or pay some bills and then I have to be out of the house by 10:40. I have a 30 minute drive, I need to report 20 minutes early, I’m in the chair for 4 hours on the machine and another 20 to make sure the bleeding has stopped and I am able to drive (dizziness and nausea are common after dialysis). Another 30 minute drive home and by then it’s almost dinner time. After dinner, I’m usually too tired to even think about writing. When I started dialysis I found a positive in sitting in a comfortable chair for 4 hours. I decided that I would have some great blogging time. What I found is that having to have my left arm perfectly still makes typing, or balancing a laptop near impossible. If I move my arm too much, the needles can move and cause an infiltrate. I did it once, it hurt to the point of keeping me up all night for 2 weeks. I’m relegated to reading a book with one hand (not as easy as it sounds) or watching TV. Such a waste of time on so many levels.

On off days, when I feel good I get out and do things. Sunday, Monday, Wednesday, Friday can be busy. I try to visit friends. I go down to MA as often as I can to stay involved with my Masonic Lodge. I see my kids whenever possible. I volunteer at 2 food pantries. These activities of course require me to feel well, and that is not always the case. Some days I can’t get off of the sofa. Therefore, for every one of those days that I do nothing, the next off day becomes even busier.

Blogging had become part of my daily routine. I always made time for it. This has created a conflict for me. It now becomes one more thing that I get mad at myself about when I don’t do it. Self-guilt is a powerful thing.

Blogging has been a wonderful experience for me. I have enjoyed catharsis I never dreamed of. I’ve learned a lot about myself. I’ve enjoyed sharing my story. I enjoyed the growth of my blog and the wonderful feedback of my followers. I’m very thankful for the people I’ve gotten to know on this site. Some of you I proudly call friends. That being said, I’m not impressed with the lack of traffic to my blog lately. Despite my decline in regular posting, when I do post I do my best to put something of quality out there. I try to be relatable, thought-provoking and interesting. Lately I get a few comments and a few likes and that’s it. I’m not sure what I’m doing wrong.

I am a blogger who “gets it”. I don’t click follow just to be followed. I follow you because I find you interesting. I read your posts, I don’t scroll and drop a uninspired “like”. I comment as often as I can. I offer feedback, anecdotes and I always try to be complimentary. I try to get to know you. I follow almost 170 blogs and I try to take time to catch up with all of them.

I have less than 400 followers. Some of you have thousands. It doesn’t bother me. I am grateful for all of them. The amount of followers means less to me than overall readership. I have some very regular readers who comment with great feedback. You know who you are and I appreciate you. But not even 5% seem to actually read me. The question begs to be asked. Who am I doing this for?

I’ve always subscribed to the notion, “the longer you stop doing something the harder it is to get back into it”. It’s definitely a real thing. Many days I have looked over at my laptop, hearing its call. It has been so difficult to answer. But I’m working on it and I look forward to returning to original form.

I’m still here.

Badge of honor

One of my favorite things about Christmas shopping is buying the occasional trinket for myself. I can’t help it. I only go in stores once a year so it makes sense that I would find things that I like, right?

This year is special. With the successful Disability claim I finally have an income. It’s a meager one but it’s something. It killed me last year to go into birthdays and holidays with no means to give gifts. I am a generous person by nature and I never go anywhere empty handed. My family understood, but it didn’t make me feel any better. This year I hit the stores.

I live 45 minutes from the nearest shopping center. I try to limit my visits to days that I do dialysis which is nearby. But this week I have gone in every day. I have been working closely with the Social Worker at the dialysis center on my ongoing Insurance issues. She is very knowledgeable and incredibly helpful but is only there on my off days. Therefore it’s taken all of this week to get to get it right.

Yesterday after Dialysis I went to get something for my mother. As I was walked by the Jewelry section a shiny object caught my eye. A Superman pendant. I wanted it. Now, if you know the name of my blog then you can see why this caught my attention. If you know the back story of why I named my blog as I did then you will further understand. I looked for an attendant but none were available. Alas, I was tired, wanting to get home so I left, knowing that I would be back today.

This morning I showed up at the dialysis center to find that the Social Worker wasn’t in and wouldn’t be for several hours. I decided that I would stay in the area and come back later. It was too much of a drive to go home and then come back. I went to get an oil change on my truck, did some food shopping and went back to the center. She was still not there.

I went back to the store. This time there was an attendant at the Jewelry counter. I asked the lovely red-head (my favorite…Grrrrrrrr)
named Ginger of all things to take the pendant out so that I could look at it. The price caused me to spin on my heels until she mentioned the word “discount”. Discount indeed, by the time she was done I bought if for 1/3 of the asking price.

As Ginger was ringing it up, she looked up and asked “any significance to the pendant?”
“Do you mean to say ‘why is a grown-ass man buying a Superhero pendant’?”
She turned a little red (pun intended), “No, I was just wondering if there is a story behind it.”
“There is, actually, but I don’t want to bore you.”
“Bore away”, she said, “It’s a slow day.”
I explained that I had a blog. About how my wife had derogatorily nicknamed me Superman because she thought I was so stubborn and hard-headed and invincible. I explained that being chronically ill, it helps me to wear the badge to remind me to be strong. She hung on every word.
“What’s your illness?” she asked.
I told her. She had a cousin that was on dialysis. I told her that I was as well. She told me that he was about my age, 46 or47. I told her that I was 53. She didn’t believe me and also told me that I look pretty damn good for a guy on dialysis. I told her that she just made my day.

She offered to box it up. I told her I would wear it out. She laughed. I walked out feeling like a man of steel.

Later, at the center, I resolved my insurance issues. As I stood up my pendant fell out of my shirt. The Social Worker commented.
“Nice pendant. Like your blog,right?”
Apparently the one Nurse that I showed it to spread the word. Not a bad thing I suppose.

I may find myself working my way back to the store to see Ginger again. After all, I do so love a redhead.