Beware of silver tongued devils with empty pockets. (Or so they say)
I knew this was coming. I could see it. There was more to George than he let on. George was just a little too friendly for his own good.
As I was walking back from the AA meeting hall, I stopped by the piggly wiggly to pick up some corn meal. I wanted cornbread with my roast last night. As I stepped out of the store, in front of the Fred’s dollar store sat George’s beat up, old, dodge diplomat.
I thought to myself, the car is empty but running. Maybe I can sneak by without having to go through a long conversation. As I walked by the dollar store and then finally past, I thought I had made it. Nope, I was not so lucky. George came running out of the store hollering, “Hey man, hold up! Hold up!”
I thought to myself, “Well, shit! Here we go again.”
“Hey man, let me talk to ya fo a minute!” said George.
“What’s up? George?” I replied.
“You know mes and yous are like brothers!” replied George.
His breath reeked of alcohol and cigars. I finally broke down and said it.
“George, a few weeks ago, I didn’t even know you. You have me mixed up with someone else.”
“Nah man, mes and yous is brothas!” George exclaimed.
George went on this long tirade about knowing my ex-wife for years (we were only married for two and meet shortly before that.) He said he had talked to her and that we should get back together. He said she said it was her mother and the stress of her that broke us up. I knew my ex-wife would have not talked to George. If you knew her then you would know too.
Finally, it hit. The moment I knew that was coming. His voice get real low and quiet and he leaned forward to me.
“Brotha, can you spare a poor black man five dollars? I am out of cigars and need some more.” He asked pulling the mangled, chewed on cigar out his mouth and thrusting it forward for me to see.
“Nope, I replied. I have seven bucks to my name and that has to hold for the rest of the week.” I answered.
“Come on, man, help a brotha out!” George decreed.
“George, I knew this was coming. I don’t have the money and I need to head home.” I responded.
His demeanor changed then and turned all happy and out going again.
“Allright brotha, I will catch you later. You takes care.” Said George.
Whew, I made it through it and headed home. I am tired of that shit though. This is going to happen every damn time unless I get ugly. I hate getting ugly but I am not about to avoid going to the only store I can get my groceries at. George, be damned!
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