The Spousal Unit and I talked about loser relatives.
The context was my discovery of a tale of petty, vindictive and straight gank-style ugliness related to the divorce of an associate. It turns out that The Bitch thought she could get away with it, it being her third divorce, she had a bit of a headstart on Homey. The basics of the deal were that he came home one day and found his office cleaned out except for his Jaz drives. The Bitch didn't know what they were. It turned out that they contained all of the records he needed to prove that she was lying her ass off in court. Various other elements of the Bitch Contingent aka The Monster In Law and the Big Dumb Fuck (second husband) were in on the scam. Homey had combined some of his assets with the Bitch and they went into business together, and well, you know how it is with losers. They tend to aggregate around rumors of easy money and various scams and capers. So various elements of the Bitch Contingent had fingerprints on Homey's doorknobs too. He changed the locks and stared them down. The process is still, as they say, still in process, but he's had to rely on the biceps of the bailiff from time to time.
So I heard from the Unit that certain cousins have been evicted from their premises (at they momma's house) and now are on the loose trying to find another sucker relative they can shack up with. Now that they're all out of jail, this would be their first priority. So we're getting phone calls from panicked relatives who want to be accomodating but...
I asked about one of the parties of the trifiling part and was related one that went a little something like this. Cousin Scar has asthma and so asked the Unit to drop him by the local CVS that day. The call came at about 10 am. Scar shows up at the Unit's door (back home in Motor City while she was on vacation there last year) around 11:30. Oh by the way can you loan me 25 bucks so I can pay for it? Sure OK. Lemme borrow your phone. So they go to CVS. On the way.. did you call it in? Oh yeah I called it in, it's all ready. They arrive and the Unit stands in line at the Pharmacy while Scar hangs out elsewhere in the store. She gets to the front and uses her credit card to pay for it. Uh. Oh, you're going to use your credit card? The girl behind the counter suddenly says that the prescription isn't ready as Scar and the Unit stand there. I thought you said you called it in and they said it was ready? The girl says she'll check it again, and it becomes clear that she's just punching keys at random on the terminal. This was supposed to be a cash deal. The Unit has her aha moment and storms out. Uh, can you drop me off back home?
I'm sure there were some other trifling details I forgot, but the entire episode reminded me of loser shit I used to deal with for a very short period in my life. The last loser I dealt with was John Grant, back when I used to work at Fedco circa 1979. John, if you're out there, you know I forgive you because I forgave you the day you wrecked my motorcycle. The first thing he said when he came back was 'Don't hit me but...'. I didn't hit him. So he was forgiven. My bad for letting him beg me into the situation from the gate.
I have never had much patience for that kind of idle nonsense. People who take all day to do one damned thing and can't even do it without begging somebody else to help out. Loser shit. Or as my uncle Fat Phil used to say on the periodic occasions I would hear of such tales in the company of adults.. 'Niggas and flies'. That's a timeless expression.
There's a difference, you know between losers and knuckleheads. Maybe I ought to write up a taxonomy. But losers can be loveable, especially good looking losers or those with the gift of gab. Losers, quite frankly would rather just lay around puffing and passing. 'The job situation' ..puff puff puff.. 'is fucked up.' You rather hope that losers just stay losers. But sometimes a trip to the pokey turns their begging more larcenous. I mean how can you blame Scar for clocking his wife who was sleeping around with his own brother? But that counts for domestic violence in our dainty society where a punch in the nose is not an act of chivalrous virtue but cause for six months in county, at the very least. I should have hit John Grant, but I know better. We live in a passive-aggressive pussified society where personal justice basically does not exist. You want to know why American's love Bernie Goetz and Dirty Harry? That's why. It's not enough to have common sense and a little bit of guts and self-respect, you've got to have access to the legal system. Or know a cop.
When Homey told me his story, he demonstrated how he walked up to the Big Dumb Fuck and stared him down. He was calm as a panda. I know that feeling. The feeling when you know you're right and you know you're going to win and that somebody powerful has got your back. You look at somebody dead in the eyes and you don't have to say a word. You know, I know, and I know you know I know. And then you walk away and let the hammer of truth fall. That's the sweet feeling of inevitable justice, and just the anticipation of it makes you a little bit giddy. But at the same time you're sad, you suck your teeth and say Damn, why don't they just get it? What makes them think that they can get away with this kind of shit?
It's the social contract of course. We all instinctively know when we are secure in truth and when we are in situations where truth and morality are perverted or even inverted. We know the sound in the voice of a friend when he's exasperated and putting up with bullshit from a loser. We know the feel of entering a zone where shit happens. We know the smirk on the face of a knucklehead who gets away with it. We basically understand strength and weakness in human beings, we recognize the presence or absense of justice.
We all, each of us, has a moral obligation to try and be right and try and be strong - especially for the benefit of those who fall from decency into loser status. We owe it to them and to ourselves to deal with them straight. To look them in the eye and let them know that we don't deal with loser shit. You don't even have to say it. They know.
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