On Friday afternoon, Rachelle and I went to the Rideau Center to do some shopping. As I was sitting outside of Fancy Sox taking a break, Randy Reid happened along. Randy and I, as some of you might know, went to the same high school together. It was here where Randy staggered about, breathing through his mouth, beating the crap out of anybody whenever he got the itch to do so. Unfortunately, I bumped into him and his son Razor earlier in the week, and was subject to all sorts of mean-spirited abuse, including the destruction of the glove I had been wearing to commemorate the passing of Michael Jackson, The King of Pop.
This is a loose transcript of my encounter with Randy from the Rideau Center:
Randy: ( Boisterous, like he’d just finished his fifth pint at the Elephant and Castle) Hey, loser! What’s the matter, the clerk’s restraining order keeping you from going into Fancy Sox?!
Fag.
Me: ( Icily) You owe me $15.00 for the glove you destroyed the other day.
Randy: ( In a sing-song little girl voice) Oh, my pretty, pretty glove got hurt. I think I’m going to cry! Wha-wha-wha!
At this point Rachelle came out of a store and came over to me, at which point and I introduced her to Randy.
Randy: Rachelle, it’s been a long time.
Rachelle: Yes, it has Randy.
Randy: You look good.
Rachelle: Thank you, you look good, too. Still lifting weights and running, I see.
Randy: I try to stay in shape. ( Gives me a look) I tried to find you, you know.
Rachelle: Oh, Randy, let’s not go there. That was ages ago, we were different people. It was Montreal, and nothing was ever the same after the fire.
Me: Do you two know each other?
Randy: I just had a lot of stuff to deal with after the accident.
Rachelle: I know, Randy, I know. It was a hard time for both of us. Look, I can’t talk about this.
Randy: You know, I finished that novel I was writing. It’s dedicated to you.
Me: What’s it about, Randy? Stealing gloves?
Rachelle: Michael, that’s not funny. Would you mind giving Randy some time? We have some stuff to discuss. I’ll be back in a few hours. I love you, Michael, please, whatever happens, don’t ever forget that.