He was a comedian. Wait, no he was trying to become a comedian.
We’ll call him George. George the comedian.
Look, George was not funny… OK, George was mildly funny.
I wasn’t talking to him because he was funny though. I was talking to him because he reminded me of D’Angelo circa “Voodoo.”
I told him what it was straight up, and it was just my luck he wanted to “get to know me” instead.
He said he could tell I work hard and wanted to erase all the bad guys cemented in my memory.
LOL George was so cute with his generic lines. I’d pat him on the head then go in for a kiss.
Shut up George, kiss me.
But in the very brief time we spent together, I could tell he was a real one. A man with character. I’d drive him crazy just so he could play his favorite role: Knight in Shining Armor.
He took satisfaction in being the one to calm me, find a product for me in the store, or just listen. He enjoyed the simple things, & we’d smoke all night.
“I’ve gotta be up at 5, I have to take you home now” I would tell him around 11pm on a Monday night.
See, George made sandwiches for a living, which was cool – I never judged him. Let him tell it he was taking his time getting a car and his own place to stay, said he wanted to “do it right.”
I didn’t care. I would listen to his dreams of making his grandma proud. Don’t let him get to preaching-the boy was sharp.
Now George is the manager of that sandwich shop, and I have to believe its partly because of my encouragements. We still wave when we see each other, its all love. But now something’s different.
I guess George sticks out in my head because of the way he made me feel; like I was floating when we hugged. Maybe it was the unconditional, hood love he showed me. Not really sure.
How did I stop messing with George? Man that’s another story…