Free Sex and Crime: Oliver's Strange Journey by Oliver Markus Page B

back down or give in. I was about to bash
this guy's head in with a crowbar for lousy $7. Crazy!
     
    One of the reasons I usually don't get into
these kinds of situations is because I always anticipate what is
going to happen next. And what will happen after that and then
after that, like a chess player plotting his next five moves.
     
    When people get into a fight, whatever the
reason is, it may seem important at that moment, but in the grand
scheme of things, it is utterly meaningless. Nobody will remember
or care about the reason for the fight in a week or a month or a
year from now, because it's really not that important at all.
Usually fights happen because two chest-thumping, knuckle-dragging
idiots can't agree on who has the bigger dick. But if you go to
jail for battery with a deadly weapon, or you suffer a permanent
injury during that fight, those consequences will be with you for
the rest of your life.
     
    Was I really ready to go to jail for bashing
this guy's head in over stupid $7? No, of course not. I'm smarter
than that. But here I was, nose tip to nose tip with this guy, with
no way out, without looking like a total pussy. Luckily that guy
wasn't a complete retard either, and the same thoughts were going
through his head, and we were both looking for a way to end the
stand off without looking like wimps.
     
    He screamed at me: "Look, I'm gonna go in
the house now. I'll call you back later, for a round-trip to
McDonald's. And then I'm gonna pay you for that round trip, and for
this one. Deal?"
     
    "Alright then!" I screamed back at him, like
I got my way. But really I was just glad that this gave me an
excuse to stand down and walk away without getting hurt or going to
jail. I walked back in the base and figured I was never going to
hear from that guy again.
     
    But a few hours later Tony really did come
back into the base and specifically asked for me to give him a ride
to McDonald's on the other side of the neighborhood. I was pretty
tense in the car on the way there, because I felt really stupid
driving this guy around again, when he was probably just going to
try to stiff me again.
     
    We didn't talk at all at first, until he
said in a conciliatory tone: "You remind me of me when I was
younger."
     
    "Uhh, thanks," I said. I didn't really know
how to respond to that.
     
    When we got to McDonald's, he got out of the
car and went inside. I waited for him while clutching my crowbar.
If that motherfucker was going to play games again, I was gonna
bash his damn head in! No, I wasn't. Deep down I knew I would just
leave and chalk it up as a learning experience.
     
    But Tony did come back out after a few
minutes. I drove him back to his house, and he really did pay me
for both round-trips. Still no tip though. But I was glad I got
paid and left it at that.
     
    A few hours later it was the middle of the
night and it was slow again. I was sitting in the room in the back
of the base. Suddenly Tony came in and asked to speak to me. Since
Tony was a regular customer and Jim had known him for a long time,
Jim opened the door and let Tony into the back. Tony sat down on a
chair next to me, and pulled out a piece of paper. It was a love
poem he had written for me! WTF?! Seriously. What. The. Fuck?!?
     
    A few hours earlier I was ready to bash this
guy's head in. And now I had this 40-year-old black man reading me
a love poem about how he was like me when he was younger and we met
for a reason and so on and so forth. Bizarre. He was gonna hang out
at the base with me, but I told him it was time for me to go home.
After that I told Jim never to give me a call with that guy
again.
     
    Another weird guy I still remember was this
huge white guy with a big booming voice and a thick Brooklyn
accent, who never went anywhere without his large German shepherd.
This guy was pretty intimidating. He was the size of a
refrigerator. I had to pick him and his dog up from bars a few
times. He was always drunk or high when he