One Night at the end of July

     It was a cool and stormy night toward the end of July. It had been a day of practically nonstop harassment from Rashib. First, he intruded upon what was supposed to be a peaceful bus ride to work. Then, I somehow ended up wasting a lot of time (and some money!) dealing with him and one of those skeevy females he kept picking up. Finally, he came BACK to my job and hung around waiting for my shift to end with a pitiful-ass look on his face. So. Awkward. I’m just glad none of my coworkers or supervisors asked any questions about why this random negro was just hanging around. And as if all that wasn’t enough, he decided that he was going to follow me all the way home from work.

     I was in such a mentally exhausted state from the disaster that was the first half of that summer and the farce that was Project Bootleg and had already been pushed well past the breaking point for that day. And now this clown was pestering me yet again for something else: using my 7-day bus card overnight when he knew full-well I had to be at work the next morning. There was no way in hell I was risking something like that! What if he decided to drag his feet in brining it back? What if he lost it? I’d have more to worry about than just being late for work. Who was gonna buy me another one then? Him?! Pfft, nope. Why couldn’t this negro go find someone else to feed on anyway?

     So I told him ‘no’ and that’s when all hell broke loose. After saying ‘yes’ to almost everything he asked of me for a month and some change I get cursed out the one time I say ‘no’ and put my foot down. I wish I could have gotten it all on tape. “I thought we were friends!” Rashib raged. (No, fool, we never were. This moment makes it all too clear.) “Where’s your compassion? Don’t you care?!” Well would have cared enough to feel slightly bad about refusing him if I hadn’t looked up in time to see him smirking cruelly at me. WTF????

     I’ll NEVER forget that smirk; it still makes my blood boil. It was the kind of smirk that people used to get popped right in the mouth for. But at that moment, I was utterly confused. I mean, how could someone go from yelling and cussing one minute to giving me such a smug look in the next? “It’s almost like he was never really angry with me at all,” I thought to myself. “It’s as if he just wanted me to feel bad so that I would . . .” The terrible realization hit me like one of the bolts of lightening that was streaking across the night sky. I was being emotionally manipulated! Not just on this stormy night in July, but every day since the beginning of summer. It was a horrifying moment that is best not forgotten.

     After I had somehow gotten rid of Rashib that night (and forever) I spent an hour or two sitting in my room and thinking. I thought about what had taken place that day and the last couple of weeks. Above all else, I just thought about how I was just so done with all of this crap. The leeching. The invasions of my space, resources, and person. The harassment. And especially all the manipulation. I couldn’t take the idea of my good nature being used against me like that − it was sickening! I knew I would have to get and stay far away from him and his ilk and that I would need a little help with this situation due to my depleted state.

     I called in my good friend Tim the following day. Thankfully, he was more than willing to step in and handle this one for me. He seemed really cool and collected about the whole thing, almost as if he had done something like this before. I wonder . . . Anyway, there was but one thing I needed to agree to in order for Tim to help me: No. Further. Contact. With. Rashib. I didn’t even hesitate in agreeing to that.

     What Tim did was actually pretty slick. After asking me several questions about Rashib and getting his number from me, he called him up right in front of me. Tim said that he was a detective calling from the local police department and that I had filed a harassment complaint with their office. Tim also said that there would be charges filed if Rashib ever contacted me again. It was truly fascinating to watch and judging from the side of the conversation that I could hear, Rashib was NOT taking this ‘news’ very well at all. I recall that Tim had to yell a lot to make himself heard until he was hung up on.


One thought on “One Night at the end of July

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