Normie Gives a Lesson
By Mark Kelly
The third and last time I see Normie is like seeing an old friend. Except
that he doesn't remember me at all. I jog his memory by joshing about the
broken window and reminding him about the eating wager.
He laughs and says "Did I tell you that?" and a general atmosphere of bonhommie
ensues.
Encouraged by having made an impression, Normie searches for another
picaresque anecdote to recount. A pedestrian running in front of the car
gives him his cue.
"Jeez, these people" he says. "I had a guy once, steps out just like this
joker, stands right there in the damn road staring at me. He's eating a
peach and just stands there looking at me like an idiot. I put up with this
for maybe five seconds then let him have a big blast on the horn."
"Anyway, he
pulls back his arm and lets fly, throwing the peach so that it splatters all
over the windshield. Then he just stands there looking pleased with himself,
with his hands on his hips."
"Meantime I've got cars lining up behind me going
crazy because the lights are changing and they aren't going anywhere. I've
got a customer in the back seat wondering what all the fuss is about and when
he's going to get to Newark Airport. And I've got a windshield so messed up
I can barely see through it."
"The guy is standing there laughing now - he
reckons that there is nothing I can do but to drive around him and chalk it
up to experience."
"So what do you do?" I prompt, unnecessarily.
"Excuse me just one moment, I say to my customer, there's an asshole out here
who needs to be taught some manners.
Then I get out of the car and walk over
to this guy, very calm and collected.
"You've made something of a mess over
there, I say, which I would like you to clean up."
"Well I'm sorry, he says,
but I got nothing to clean it up with."
"He is still acting the smartass at
this stage. I should also mention that he is maybe six feet tall, which is a
clear six inches taller than me. It doesn't worry me in the slightest."
"He's tall but skinny, like a college kid, and he looks like his parents never
said no to him."
"I got nothing to clean it up with," he says.
"Well you'll
just have to lick it clean," I tell him.
"He looks at me as if I'm crazy. I don't wait for him to think up some smart
answer. What I do is I grab his
arm and twist it right up behind his back and slam him up against the bonnet,
pushing his face towards the windshield."
"He finally gets the picture and realizes I'm not fooling around. Truth is I'll
be happy to snap his arm for
him at this point. Anyway he manages to twist around a little and pull his
face away from the glass. He dives into his pocket with his free hand and
pulls out a handkerchief."
"Turns out he has got something to clean up with
after all. It takes him maybe ten seconds to wipe off the fruit, then I let
him go and he scuttles off into the crowd."
"I'm back in the car and heading off for the airport in no time at all. The
customer is in a bad temper
because I've kept him waiting and maybe that's why he forgets to give me a
tip when we get to Newark."
The story is finished and I am stuck for something to say. While I
vacillate, Normie must sense that my approval has been withdrawn. A frosty
silence follows, as complete as if I had pressed the button to slide the
privacy screen up between us.
What am I supposed to say? Probably "Well, you sure sorted him out" would do
the trick. But the words stick in my
throat and we continue in silence.
I still tip him ten dollars, of course,
but I cancel my half-formed idea to ask for Normie explicitly when arranging
my next trip.
"See you next time, Normie. Take care."
"Yeah, you too mister."
The End
Copyright & 2000
All rights reserved. All characters are fictitious in this story and no
reference is intended to any person living or otherwise.
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