A hero in sheeps clothing

A certain type of person

One simple question someone asks you can totally change your mindset and blow you out of the water, to smithereens. At least, it made me question what I had just said.

"How you gonna do that?" It totally shook me. It rocked me. I didn't answer for a second or two. I realized I had no idea. There was no road paved before me. There was no path to riches I had planned out. I'm supposed to have everything together and see a complete future visionment. I'm supposed to set goals. That's what men, especially fathers, are expected to do.

I had said, "I want to make money. Real money," sort of both honestly, and as a way of falling in line with that notion of a successful male.

The man who asked me that question--he's one for looking into people's souls. Really getting to know you. Personally. Deeply. Weirdly. Sometimes it gets so bad that it seems fake. Like the guy's got a screw loose; a warped vision of reality; totally lost inside his own head with no window to the outer world he interacts with.

But then I think, maybe he's like heroes portrayed in so many stories. You know, like the guy who can't get along with people, who won't play by the rules, who has his many many many quirks, and who makes it out on top at the end with some wacky, whimsical device.

Trouble is, that's definitely not this guy, but he did recently come into a promotion at work. He's older than me by over 10 years, and those older people always see right through me. I felt like a little kid talking to him. There's probably a reason middle aged people don't really have younger friends--it would be like me befriending a 17-year-old and hanging out and talking romance and cars and drinking soda.

I told him he got my gears moving. Showed him my face as it was confused and startled. I let him see how he was affecting me by simply calling me out. I gave that to him. I let him talk to me. Oh, and another thing about this guy--such a talker!

Our conversation quickly turned to how raising a child is such a sacrifice, lecture-style. Ugh. Like I don't already goddamn know. In addition to his promotion, he was offered a transfer to somewhere sunny and nice, and secluded, which he accepted.

"I did it! I finally did it!" he said with a big smile and raised arms with fists on the ends. Then, pointing, "And you know why I did it? Just to spite all those motherfuckers who said I couldn't." For a minute I felt like he thought he was onstage at the Oscars, thanking the academy.

Oh, and he was pretty pissed, too. Sloshed. Terminated. Really drunk. Not falling over drunk, not even word-slurring drunk. But he does like his alcohol, and I think he has other vices too.

One time he comes in to the bar and can barely talk. He looked hopped up on something strong. All I remember him saying was, "I did a bad thing," very slowly, and he wouldn't look me in the eye, instead favoring that thing where people move their head as if to create eye contact, but keep their eyes closed. Then they open them and look away.  I don't know what the fuck he could have been doing.

This guy...... a hero. A weirdo. An annoying bastard. A blabber-mouthed drunk. A hero.

And in the end, I felt better about myself. One last thing he told me: "Relax. You're going to do fine." Simple wisdom, boy I tell ya.