A kind man walked into work today. His skin was the color of what I would assume to be of native decent. Dark tan flesh with an old tattoo on each arm which had been made difficult to see from his complexion and wrinkles that must have carried many stories throughout the years.
To admit his slightly grizzly edge gave me the impression that he would be one of those 'I don't give a damn' type of old man. I didn't look forward to dealing with him after I was done with the current customer I was handling. I asked him what he needed while I had a free moment. He needed to make a fax. I gave him the cover sheet he needed, as well as a pen.
His voice was old and brittle and he seemed a bit limited. It made me look twice at this man that I had so confidently prejudged. He had an embroidered hat full of veteran symbols of brave color. Protruding out the sides his hoary strands were an inconsistent act; grey and white mixed together. Hiding his eyes were rather large off brown sunglasses, acceptable to some other time than now; maybe the 70s. He must not have been any longer than 5'4. Average size for a man his age I would have guessed.
Not three minutes later I could give him my full attention, being he was now the only there besides myself. He carried two sheets of paper, one of which was exhausted and worn, I knew would never make it through the machine without a jam. I suggested, "umm we'll probably need to make a copy of this one, it wont go through the fax machine like that." "I have two pages to send", he started,"this one and then this one is a joke I thought was funny." "ok", i stated. Suggesting the papers to me he again kindly stated, "this once is a joke," whether he had already forgotten he told me once or just didn't realize I heard him the first time I don't know. " ohh ok", i falsely chuckled. Jokes are made to laugh at, so I did so to please him as I do at times with people.
I walked to the copier, he slowly followed. I had barely looked at the paper for which I lied and laughed over. I handed back his original brittle sheet. "See its a man and..." he guided his finger showing me the picture of that illustration depicting the evolution of man who rose from an ape to homosapien and then hunched over until he sat at a computer desk typing. I assume it related the recent technological age and to what some may consider man reaching de-evolution. Finally I could laugh.
The First Rule of Write Club
At loss. I must redeem myself, that last attempt was 6th grade dear diary ramble. My condolences. The thing is I don't write that often, and when I do I do
n't ask for it. So thanks for the invitation, even though I just showed up without one the first time. You must have felt obligated to include me again, thanks?
I sat here and thought of worthiness to say, no reward. Nothing to say for now except that I have nothing to say. So I give my sincerity. I did have this poem that was off the chain, but I lost it. damn. I even went as far as asking my ex-girlfriend if she still had it saved from when i text it to her about a year or so ago. She replied, "I think that was two phones ago."
I must say I was thoroughly impressed by all of you. From the girl on the plane, being bearly understood, and a 6 year olds perception of a vagina. You guys are great. Put cliche, keep up the good work.
-William Cameron Allen The Third