6/11/24

I’m in pain as I’m writing this. And as I’ve said before, I have an extremely high pain tolerance, so that means something. But more on that later.

I’ve had a fairly normal week for the most part up until about two hours ago or so. I had the kids over the weekend as usual and took them on a picnic at the reservoir on Saturday. Sunday was church. Not sure if I mentioned it, but I play bass and violin in the praise team and I teach Sunday School so I did that. Yeah, I’m a fucking Sunday School teacher. Fuck off.

Monday I was on call for work so I sat around my house waiting for a call that never came. Which is a good thing. Work calls can be extremely stressful. I do global billing and finance computer programming for a major worldwide law firm. Big bucks and big stress. Too bad half my money goes towards supporting my hopefully soon to be ex wife.

So that brings us to today. I worked. I probably talked to Amy at some point and she probably reminded me of how much of an idiot I am for trying to be a super hero with four kids to take care of. I talked to my brother for a bit. I mentioned that I beat up two guys who tried to rob me at gunpoint and he told me to never do anything like that again. Big brother always looking out for me.

I thought about Mary Jane most of the day and was pissed off about it. I haven’t talked to her or seen her in six months and I still can’t stop thinking about her. I guess that’s what knowing someone for thirty years, falling in love with them, and then fucking them does to a person. I wrote a poem or two about lost love and posted them here on theprose dot com. Yeah, read some of my other shit on here if you haven’t yet. And read some of the other stuff on here by other people, too. A lot of it’s really good. There, got my plug in there. Jeff, send me a message for the address you can send the check to.

After work, I went to karate class with Paul teaching. I’m still a white belt, by the way. Probably been taking karate longer than any white belt in history. I just can never find a day to take the test when I don’t have the kids. Maybe one of these days I’ll just have to get a babysitter.

Then I went to the open mic at the Train Stop. I talked to Gina, the owner and bartender, about starting a poetry open mic there and she seemed receptive. Frank and Chris were there. And my friend Billy was there. He reads gritty William Burroughs style shit about drug addicts and hookers. Good stuff.

I played violin while Frank sang and played guitar and our friend Jimmy played bass and our other friend Jimmy played drums. I know a lot of Jimmies. I played a blues tune with my other friend Joe. Jimmies, Johns, and Joes. I don’t know what it is with all these “J” names. The funny thing is, even though these are all made up names, there are still a lot of “J” names at the open mic in real life also. Just different “J” names.

So I didn't feel like playing super hero tonight. I guess I was turned off to the whole thing after last week's fiasco with the cats and the domestic squabble. I just walked back to my car with my violin case. But on the way, this car pulled up.

Four kids in black got out and I recognized them as the kids I beat up near the same spot a few weeks ago when they jumped out of the same car. “I told you this ain’t over!” one of them shouted as they ran towards me.

I roundhouse kicked the lead one in the face but I realized they all had knives. “Bitch you gonna die tonight!” one of them said.

He tried to stab me but I blocked the knife away with a middle inside block. One of the others stabbed me in the side and I felt a shot of pain. Another tried to slice me and I blocked it but he sliced my arm. Another stabbed me in the stomach but I smashed him hard in the face with my violin case and knocked him to the ground. My violin is the most expensive thing I own outside of cars and houses, clocking in at two thousand bucks. I should be more careful with it. Anyway, I turned and started running.

I was in pain and bleeding but I run three and a half miles a day so running is second nature to me. And running in pain is second nature. Plus I’m fast, so I left those guys in the dust. I made it to my car, got in, and drove to the hospital which is around the corner from my house. I bled all over the seat in my car. I guess I’ll worry about cleaning that up later. Making sure I didn't die was first and foremost in my mind right then and there.

And that’s where I am now. In the hospital. All bandaged up and sitting in a bed, having second thoughts about my super hero aspirations.