"I'll tell you my story," he said. "I'll tell you my story and you will sympathize because I can tell by looking at your face that you're sympathetic. You have a sympathetic face. My story is the story of a man's tragedy. It is the story of a blighted life. It is the story of a woman who could not forgive. It is the story..."
"I have to leave at 8:30," I said, "and if it's the story about the monkey and the coconuts, I've heard it and it's vulgar."
"Sympathy," he said. "A man who has suffered the tragedy that I have asks only for a little sympathy."
"Let your days be full of joy," I said and I was pretty bucked about it too because I'd heard this gag only the night before. The timing was perfect. And it feels good to bewilder someone who is attempting to flummox you. Don't you agree? I continued with the little saying all the way to the punchline.
"Love the child that holds your hand," I said. "Let your wife delight in your embrace. For these alone are the concerns of man."
I may have paraphrased the little thing but I was confident that I'd non-plussed him anyway. But it was not so.
"I have no children," he said, "and I've lost the woman who means all the world to me."
I knew he'd led me to the top of the slippery slope and immediate steps were required to avoid disaster.
I knew he'd led me to the top of the slippery slope and immediate steps were required to avoid disaster.
"Listen," I said.
"Sure," he said taking a sip of his coffee.
"I walk the face of the earth like an ant walks on the surface of water," I began.
"Do ants walk on water," he asked?
I raised a hand as this was no time for side issues.
"As if the slightest misstep might send me straight through the surface and into the depths below. Not the depths of the ocean but the innermost depths of my mind."
"Sure," he said taking a sip of his coffee.
"I walk the face of the earth like an ant walks on the surface of water," I began.
"Do ants walk on water," he asked?
I raised a hand as this was no time for side issues.
"As if the slightest misstep might send me straight through the surface and into the depths below. Not the depths of the ocean but the innermost depths of my mind."
At this point, I paused to look him hard in the eye and tap my finger on the side of my head.
"It's dark and scary in there," I said.
"What's so scary about it?"
"I'll tell you," I said. "Just yesterday I was thinking about the rising tide of heinous skulduggery and political weasel-osity in the nearby kingdom of the United States. I was thinking about how the people living there are in need of compassion and goodwill."
"What's so scary about it?"
"I'll tell you," I said. "Just yesterday I was thinking about the rising tide of heinous skulduggery and political weasel-osity in the nearby kingdom of the United States. I was thinking about how the people living there are in need of compassion and goodwill."
He nodded and his face wore the expression of someone considering my comments to the fullest extent of consideration.
"And as I mused on those thoughts," I said, "a cargo van of grief and anger came careening around a corner in my mind and plowed through a row of garbage cans. The driver came out swinging and shouting..."
"Hmm," he said, you don't see that every day. But so what?"
"That driver was me," I said.
"Ah," he said. And then placing a hand on my arm, and looking at his phone, he said, "Sorry, gotta go. I have a 9:00 appointment and it's almost 8:30 now."
"Hmm," he said, you don't see that every day. But so what?"
"That driver was me," I said.
"Ah," he said. And then placing a hand on my arm, and looking at his phone, he said, "Sorry, gotta go. I have a 9:00 appointment and it's almost 8:30 now."
He walked away and left me wishing that I had closing remarks for situations like this. I used to wish people a nice Mayan apocalypse on such occasions, but that ship sailed and is long forgotten. I need to come up with something original and catchy.