This is a continuing story. To read subsequent/ previous entries go here As I Sat on the Bus.
I guess I am a bus rider now. These last few months have been hard on me. Having that stroke was the scariest thing to ever happen. I am lucky it was no worse than what it was. I am lucky in a lot of ways. Michelle didn’t have to take me in and take care of me.
My boss sure as shit didn’t have to offer me this job. I owe a lot to that man. He practically caught me when I got off the bus that morning. My head was hurting so bad and when I stepped down off the last step I went down to the ground. That was the last thing I remember until I woke up in the hospital with Michelle standing over me telling me she loved me.
Yes, I am a lucky man.
But I hate this damn cane. I know all the fellas will be talking behind my back about how old and feeble I am. There was a day, and it wasn’t that long ago when I could kick every one of their sorry asses. I ain’t gonna get no respect walking around with this damn cane.
But I promised Michelle and my boss can’t let me come back without it “Insurance reasons” he said.
I understand that. Everyone sues everyone over anything anymore; he’s got to protect himself. I guess I will have to swallow my pride and use the damn cane.
But if I hear one snicker come out of the mouth of one of those sorry bastards I’ll use the damn thing to beat them with.
This post is in response the writing challenge As I Sat on the Bus.