Nowhere Man - The Beatles
Fanfare For The Common Man ... NOPE! The Beatles said it better:
"I'm a Loooooser!"
The anthem I have ascribed to a few of my co-workers, in jest. One in particular, today. Not sure how it began, but days ago he started this.
A young guy (twenty six) decided to give me grief about our exchange of generic morning greeting statements on arrival at work, regarding me pointing out that he did not need to call me "Sir," because "I'm not his dad."
He said, (This happened at five forty this morning) "excuse me, Sir, but you're older than my grandfather!"
I thought he wanted to play again, so I did an open palm, fingertips only (tips of my bent fingers only - I swear to Gawd!) poke at his chest, kind of like the way you you might try to catch a soap bubble, playfully harrassing back at him, and held up my dukes, asking if he wanted to make this personal. I'm playing HIS game, here.
I guess I still don't know my own strength, because he went about four steps backward, trying to regain his balance, finally tangled his feet and went down and my dukes had been up since before his first stumbling backstep and i was completely amazed at his "acting". He bounced up and came at me without raising his arms, so I poked him in the navel with my index finger, sending him reeling in pain, but I'm still playing, beginning to wonder why he looked so pissed off.
I may have been a little stimmed from a houseful of sick kids, but I was just playing, I thought. It's his game.
Later, he came up behind me to sucker slap me (across the shoulder) with a load of vinyl signage, but I ducked, took the signs away from him, poked him gently in the ribs with them and asked if those were for me. He was very surprised that he could not sneak up on me. I asked if he knew that those pants around his ass were noisy as hell and he couldn't sneak up on a rock, if it was sleeping.
He's a cute kid and I like him, but he's a looooooser, I fear.
