The Walking Dead this Sunday... who will Negan kill?

Okay, I think we all know someone is going to die on the Walking Dead season finale Sunday night but the question is who? If you follow or have knowledge of the comic you know who is supposed to die but as we know with TWD, they don’t always follow the comic. So while we wait a few more agonizing days until the 90-minute season finale I figure it can’t hurt to speculate. Especially since I can’t stop thinking about it all week anyway.

First off, who I think is immune to dying this week: Rick obviously, Carl, Judith- not even TWD is twisted enough to kill a baby in the way that someone will be killed this week. So who’s ride is going to end with Season 6? Here are the possibilities from the main credited cast: (There are no upcoming spoilers here, only speculation)

First category:  “NO WAY”

Spencer- Not a big enough name, although he could die the way Denise did, unexpectedly and suddenly in the middle of the episode. He’s just not a big enough payoff to die at the end of the season. The last living Monroe will probably meet his end during the war between Team Rick and the Saviors that will be the main plotline of the upcoming Season 7.

Aaron- See Spencer.

Second Category: “POSSIBLE BUT NOT LIKELY”

Sasha- Her character has recently began to find happiness once again in what has been a tremendous emotional roller coaster ride for her. A supporting character finding happiness or enlightenment is usually when they suddenly die, ask Denise. Since this death coming on Sunday will be drawn out at the end and highly impactful I doubt Sasha with be the one to go.

Eugene- As entertaining as Eugene is I feel like his story has just begun. He's just made it to level 2! Plus I don’t think he’s a big enough name to die in a season finale against the greatest foe Team Rick has ever seen.

Tara- Her love just died so she is either in store for death herself or a character shift. The show hasn’t even showed her let alone her reaction since Denise’s death so she falls into the same boat as Aaron and Spencer. She could die during the episode, but not at the end of the episode. It wouldn’t be impactful enough to kill her off as Negan's first.  

Father Gabriel- 6 months ago his death would have been greatly celebrated as he is one of most disliked characters in the show’s history. But something interesting happened while we prayed for his demise, he evolved. The same character who turned his back on his congregation and anyone else who needed his help started to pull his weight. His 180 degree turnaround has been so compelling that Rick actually trusted Gabriel with Judith during the zombie walk through Alexandria. To seal the deal, he killed a savior (no pun intended) a few episodes back. He's changed. I don't think fans are still rooting for Gabriel’s death. Morgan says ALL life is precious. In the zombie apocalypse this is debatable since so many people turn into murderous, sinister bastards. Morgan wouldn’t give up on that Wolf, and yes, the wolf saved Denise’s life so she could save Carl, etc. Even the most evil character like that wolf, came back, so to speak. That’s not to say the wolf was going to start handing out cookies to everyone and organizing the Alexandria PTA, but he’s proof that even the most evil characters are not hopeless. However the question is; when and with who do you try? Would you take that chance? For every bad person who can be saved there’s probably several more who’d kill you and take all your stuff in a second. So “evil” may or may not be salvageable but Father Gabriel and Eugene are examples of why you can’t give up on cowardice. If you think about it, Carol is another example. These were people who couldn’t handle themselves, needed help to survive and were almost entirely useless in the ZA. Then at some point, something clicked and now they are useful in some way and in Carol's case, useful in a BIG way. Of course we could talk about Nicholas as a failure in cowardice since he killed himself, but he saved Glenn by doing so, so it wasn’t as big of a waste as it could have been. The point is cowards can come back, come around and the question is do you have the patience to wait for them to do so. It’s risky but Gabriel has come out the other end is doing fine now. I don’t know about you but I think with Gabriel there is still story to tell and more growing to do so I don’t think he’ll get sent to meet the real father Sunday night.   

Rosita- Rosita is a good candidate simply because she’s in a rough emotional spot and has nothing in front of her right now. After getting cruelly dumped by Abe, she’s a bit lost and vulnerable. She’s a good fighter and apparently has enough going for her to turn Spencer into an idiot (or mush) after one emotionless night, so it would be a shame for her to go when we are finally starting to explore the character. I don’t think she’s long for this world, just because of how they never make her a vocal point but I think that’s why her death Sunday night would also not carry the impact a main character’s death during the season finale should have. I think she’s more likely to die randomly during the season 7 war that’s coming.

Third Category: “WOULDN’T BE SHOCKED”

Morgan- He has ripped out the heart of fans for a while now, delicately balancing being a bad-ass fighter who could be a huge asset with being a massive pain in the ass who could have gotten several people killed with his philosophy of every life being precious and sparing otherwise vicious people so they could go on doing vicious things. If only he took out those 2 Wolves who tried to kill him a season and a half ago, it would have saved lives and prevented things that happened down the road from happening. Of course on the other side of it, his displays of humanity and mercy are rare for the ZA. It’s an opinion and a philosophy that is necessary to balance out the cold blooded, unapologetic and now automatic killings that have been generated by this crazy world. Morgan is important because he might be the only person who can pull Rick (and thus everyone else) back from the brink of savage brutality. Of course you cannot fight sheer evil with hugs, not in this world. The answer is probably in between these 2 philosophies, a time and a place, and since Morgan is the only voice on the “life is precious” side, he is very important. Plus, I think he has a bigger role to play down the road, both with helping Carol resolve her inner conflict and in helping Rick not become Negan or the Governor himself.   

Carol- She’s come full circle. She started off as someone who couldn’t kill and now she’s heading back to that point. Granted, in Season 1 she was helpless and now she is conflicted. That's a huge difference. The totality of her actions, namely her kills, has caused a measure of guilt and that guilt is tearing her apart. Can she resolve it? While you couldn’t blame her for pulling back and respecting life again after everything she's had to do, it would be frustrating for Team Rick because she’s so damn good at killing… at doing what needs to be done and not hesitating. There is no one better in a crisis. In fact, there would be no Team Rick without Carol. They would have been the Termites’ dinner otherwise. She’s in a period of introspection right now. Can she resolve doing what needs to be done when it needs to happen with her guilt over doing it? These are incredible times and Carol has turned into an incredible asset. I think killing her off would suck terribly because we want to see where she’ll go from here, but if she dies, people will say it’s because she lost her way. I wouldn’t be shocked if Carol was Negan’s first victim but I just don’t think it will be her. There’s still more story to tell.  

Michonne- What a swerve it would be to have Michonne be Negan’s first victim? She’s been through a remarkable journey where she learned to trust again, believe again and now, love again. TWD sure doesn’t mind offing people who have found something good in their lives. They like the drama of snatching that good fortune away in a second as both surprising storytelling and as a reminder that nothing good lasts in the ZA. Could I see them offing her? Yes, other than finally consummating “Richonne” and embracing her new Grimes family, her character hasn’t been up to much lately, which for all intents and purposes is a good thing considering most of the characters who are “up to something” in the story are dealing with adversity. If they wanted a surprise kill, she’d be the way to go and that would confirm that getting involved with Rick is VERY bad luck.

Maggie- It looked like Maggie could have lost the baby last week, if not, all is not well with the child. Since Glenn and Maggie have kind of adopted Enid anyway, the child isn’t entirely necessary. Plus with Judith still filling diapers there’s not a need to have another child on the show. It is however, important for what the child represents… hope. You’ve heard characters both on Team Rick and elsewhere question Maggie as to why she would want to get pregnant in this world, like doing so may as well be a death sentence. Maggie and Glenn occupy a different but similar wing of Morgan’s all life is precious argument. In a world so completely caught up with the moment (and for good reason), these are 2 people with a brave eye towards the future. More than that Maggie is set up in a very important but developing role; as the ambassador/representative of Alexandria. Rick and his temper have no time for slimy douches like the Hilltop Colony’s leader Gregory. Maggie is tough but with a softer, perhaps more diplomatic touch. In this season alone we’ve met the Hilltoppers and The Saviors. Odds are there are more colonies out there and in a world of dwindling supplies and resources, seeking out the other groups and working with them is becoming necessary. If they want to trade and work with Alexandria, they’ll speak with Maggie. If they want to take everything and kill everybody, well then they’ll speak with Rick. Maggie is important to the future of Team Rick so killing her here while extra surprising would be excessive. They just lost Deanna. Maggie needs time to grow into her role so I think she’ll be safe, although as we saw last Sunday the same might not be said for her baby.

Fourth Category: “UH-OH”

Abraham- I think Abraham would be the major character most fans could live with dying. His arc of losing his mind seems to be over and he’s found himself in a good place with newly found peace of mind and a new companion in Sasha. That’s way too much good fortune for one guy on this show! That’s why I think he’s a great candidate to be the first person to die at Negan’s hands. His euphemisms and ways to express himself are certainly a highlight and it’s not like there are many people left with military training out there but he’s not on the same level with the other 2 characters in this category who have been with Rick since episode 2. So his death, while powerful, wouldn’t carry the same weight of either Daryl or Glenn dying. In the comics, Abraham dies the way Denise did, so technically, he’s living on borrowed time… for what that’s worth.  

Daryl- We left last weeks’ episode with Daryl being shot in the arm or shoulder.  No he’s not dead and no, he will not die Sunday. Daryl still has a game to finish with Dwight and right now Dwight is winning. If you’ve studied comic book science you’ll know three things: 1-Only a major bad guy can finish off a major good character. Negan would qualify as a major bad guy, so yes he could kill Daryl on Sunday but also true in comic science is 2-A major bad guy doesn’t get introduced by killing an already wounded and weakened character. If Daryl is in rough shape after being shot, killing him wouldn’t be much of an accomplishment. Negan needs to kill a healthy, strapping major character to make maximum impact. 3-Daryl is has unfinished business. In the comic world, unfinished business with a bad guy is a huge deal. So this means, Daryl can die at Negan hands but only after he squares things with Dwight. If Daryl were to get revenge on Dwight during Sunday’s episode, I’d say he’s more likely to be the guy but if he doesn’t, I think he lives to fight, and die another day. Besides, if Daryl dies we riot, right?

Glenn- That leaves us with the guy who gets it at this point in the comics. That scene has been discussed for a few years by fans and media alike. Will The Walking Dead stay true to the comic? With the big Glenn death tease earlier this season, it was wondered if we’d even get to this point. Glenn as a character has been vital to the story thus far. His ability to get out of sticky situations and knock arrogant prima donnas on their ass has been wildly important. He survived being tortured by the Governor. He survived the chopping block at Terminus. Does Glenn have 9 lives and does anyone know if he’s already used 8 of them? Something to consider; Glenn for the first time a few episodes ago, killed his first 2 humans. On this show, when a character loses their way, trades in their belief system, they could be on borrowed time. It’s happened to a few of them. I’m also wondering that other than being a new dad to be and killing his first humans what else has Glenn been up to? What would his role be going forward? Obviously he is great on runs and has wisdom gleaned from Dale, Hershel and all the best moral characters on the show. To lose him WOULD be brutal but he is the only major character from the early days of the show who isn’t involved in a major subplot right now. Does that automatically equal death… no, not necessarily. But for the same reason that I think Carol is safe because she’s on a quest to find herself and Daryl is safe because he’s on a quest for revenge, Glenn is not on a "quest" right now. He's just there. One train of thought is maybe the show has been cleaning up Glenn’s affairs, so to speak, to prepare for THIS moment. While the show hasn’t always stuck to the comics, there are a few moments, major moments, that they have to get right. I think this is one of them. As much as I hate it, I think Glenn is the one to meet his demise at the hands of Negan Sunday. 

What can pride do for you? (12-23-15)

Today we had our 2^nd Christmas party, sponsored by the store up front from us. It wasn’t going to be as big as the one we had last Friday that our department threw but hey, free lunch twice in one week! No one was going to complain about that. Thus the morning was nothing more than a countdown to chow time.

In the afternoon the food arrived and everyone was summoned. The manager of the store came back to us and started calling out everyone’s names. There were five of us in the room and he started rattling them off from the closest person to him to the furthest, except for one omission, my name. I was the furthest away. I remembered thinking hey, what am I not invited? I chuckled and hobbled my way towards the front store. Why am I hobbling? Good question. I have a pinched nerve in my back that’s been improving but improving slowly. 4-5 days ago I had trouble standing upright, let alone walking, but now I just have a hitch in my giddyup.  It’s still a bit painful but it’s getting there.

I made my way up front thinking about how much food I should eat and thinking about calories, sodium and things like that but also thankful that I didn’t have to spend money or bring anything in today. Once I made it up front I saw the store manager and he told me that everything was upstairs in the break room. My heart sank. You see, the store has a little upstairs break room for their employees that I never venture into. The stairway is the narrowest stairway you’ve ever seen. You’d think it’s the way up to a kid’s clubhouse where adults are not allowed. Trust me, it makes the entrance to your attic seem spacious. I’d say the entrance and entire stairway is literally 2/3 as wide as a normal door. The stairway also has a short ceiling and very steep steps. I’ve never been up there. I’ve never even thought to try. The little Keebler elves door looked so silly that I never gave it a thought. Plus I have my own desk, so if I need a break, I just stay there.

When I walked to the door and looked at the stairway I gasped. Damn was it tiny. I tried to enter the stairway but I couldn’t. My shoulders were too wide. I couldn’t get through the door frame. Maybe if I turned sideways… but with my back the way it is, also having to duck to avoid cracking my head on the low bridge I realized that going up these stairs sideways or anyways was going to be incredibly difficult for me… too difficult. I stopped after trying to get through the doorway. The manager who had gone to the top of the stairs already turned around and asked me what I wanted, that he’d grab it for me. I didn’t answer. I didn’t know what was there; besides, I didn’t want someone preparing me a plate like I’m some child. I told him I didn’t need or want anything and I went back to my desk in the rear of the building, embarrassed and upset. I felt like a ginormous freak.

I griped about the choice for where the food was laid out. They always put it in a side office on the main floor that only employees had access to. It was easy access. This time they put it in that little room upstairs that only smaller sized people could access. Now that I think about it, everybody who works up front has smallish, hipster-like physiques. I’m not sure if anyone up there was 6 feet tall and everyone seemed like they were no more than 150 pounds. Someone asked me why I didn’t come back with any food and I told them why. Someone offered to go up and get me a plate. I quickly refused. They said; “it’s no big deal” but again I refused. I wish people would stop asking. I could not accept anyone bringing me a plate. I was embarrassed to even talk about it, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. How ridiculous. They Ed-proofed the food! Grrrr!

As I sat there and obsessed about what had just happened the security guy from up front came into our room carrying a plate and walking towards my desk. I felt mortified. “Oh my god” I said wishing I could hide. He told me they pulled me a plate and handed it to me. There wasn’t much food on it, conservatively pulled I thought. I took the plate and thanked him despite my discomfort. Don’t kill the messenger. He told me to let him know if I wanted anything else from up there and again I quickly refused. We then got into the familiar song and dance of “really, it’s no trouble”, no I’m fine, thanks. “Ed, if you want something, don’t worry about it, I’ll get it for you.” No, it’s okay, this is plenty, thank you. After about 5 or 6 of those back and forths he left with my gratitude and left me with this small plate of food. I looked at it. I didn’t want it because it had to be brought out to me due to ridiculous circumstances… they put the food where big guys can’t go. On the other hand I’m looking at this food, food that would normally be eaten bare handed, finger foods if you will, and wondering how they got onto this plate. Somebody must have grabbed them and put them on there. I started thinking about the germs. I can’t eat anything that someone brings me- that someone else put their hands on. But I’m also really hungry. I had a light breakfast and I had been looking forward to this for a few hours. Being able to smell the food so easily and effortlessly wasn’t helping. I stare at the plate. The sound of other people eating fills the room. I’m torn. I should just say screw it and eat this food and stop worrying, stop whining. Something won’t let me. Something wants me to toss this food in the trash. If I can’t go and get it myself, then I don’t want it. But it’s not fair. They put it in a place I cannot go. The whole event is embarrassing and frustrating. Why can’t I ever accept help? The tall thin guy who works in the back with me just mentioned how he fell down the stairs a bit coming down from getting food. It felt strangely reassuring. I keep staring at the food. I’m not getting any work done.

After a 15-minute internal conversation I still haven’t touched the food. I keep going back and forth wondering which will give in first; my pride or my hunger. I’m now thinking of alternate lunch plans, like leaving the building and picking something up. I tell myself, it’s such a nice one out there today in order to stack the deck in favor of my pride. I have no one here who knows me well enough to tell me I’m being ridiculous. Finally my boss ventures over. I haven’t seen her in like half an hour because she was upstairs snacking and being social with the people small enough to make it up into this room. She comes over to ask me why I haven’t eaten the plate in front of me. I tell her and she says that she saw them prepare the plate for me, and that they used a napkin to grab everything. I tell her that she’s just saying that to make me feel better. She insists it’s the truth and walks away.  

After absorbing this new piece of information I convince myself its okay to eat what they brought me although not without a ton of overthinking and anxiety over the ordeal. What a cost! I finally give in and eat the food and then realize that I probably would have grabbed more if it were me doing the grabbing but I’ll be damned if I’m asking anyone to go get me more. In fact I would rather stop talking about it altogether. A few hours later when I actually had to take my lunch I left the building and spent a little bit of money getting something somewhere else to eat. I realized how ironic it was to have to spend money for food on a day where everyone was getting a free lunch but that’s me, complicated and stubborn. I have my pride and a few less dollars in my pocket.

By late afternoon I’m mentally exhausted from all the anxiety and worry I put myself through. Did I handle this well? A curveball was thrown at me and I had trouble adjusting. I guess I always kind of do when something that I think is going to go one way goes another. When something that always goes a certain way doesn’t and I was too embarrassed to ask for help if I need it. I panicked a bit and I was prideful and but then I thought in a way that this whole thing was a metaphor for what the poor and working class of America have to go through. The ruling class thinks everyone wants a free ride but we really don’t. We want to earn our lunch, take pride in it and most of all we want to be able to get it ourselves. We don’t want it brought to us. We don’t want it to exist beyond our reach. This is America man; land of the free, home of the shamed. Today the goal was put somewhere where I couldn’t go. It was put above me and I couldn’t reach it. I’ve never felt more American… and hungry.

My Superhero Brothers (10-21-15)

When I was little I looked up to 4 older brothers. I guess that goes without saying, I was a kid- what could I do? They were a lot older and bigger than I was. The youngest of the four had 9 years on me! But I looked up to them in more ways than one. I looked to them for advice, for bonding, for all of the things I could not get from our dad and more. My brothers were vital to me. While each of them was different, they were all larger than life to me. Our dad was a larger than life character too, but it wasn’t the same. He was “dad” and ask any teenager, parents are lame. There’s a lack of mystery with parents. You see them all the time. Don’t get me wrong, you look up to them, but you don’t want to be just like them, at least not at that age. My brothers on the other hand, were something else entirely. They were like superheroes to me. I wanted to be a superhero too. One day I wanted to be like Bryan, the next like Lawrence. They were this collective of awesome guys each with their own, unique superpower.

My brother Raymond was the crazy one. It seemed to me like he would do anything, at anytime. When he saw me he would pick me up with as much joy and love as any person could muster. He would also scare me to death. I think I would scream out every time he hoisted me up and showed me that love. I was always happy to see him despite the inevitable super hugs and liftoff. The truth was, I always felt safe and loved around him, especially after he put me down. Sometimes he apologized when he saw me because he had nothing to give me, but I never cared. His love was enough. Unfortunately we lost him in 1988 but he’ll always remind me that we all have to get a little crazy sometimes. It’s good for our sanity. 

My brother Bryan was the cool one. I’ve written extensively about him in the past. He was the one who opened up the world to me, taking me to places like Bills training camp, my first movies, concerts, games and malls. Dad never liked to go anywhere but Bryan introduced me to the world outside my neighborhood and taught me to enjoy many things that I probably never would have discovered on my own. When we lost him in 2012 it was like a knife in my gut. I’d like to think that the coolness he possessed rubbed off on me and all the nephews, nieces, cousins and children he loved. He reminds me to be cool, keep my cool and never to let anyone who thinks I’m not cool convince me otherwise. 

My brother Jose is the smart one. There was a time where I didn’t think there was much more to life than sports, music and movies. He taught me a lot about life outside of those things. He taught me a lot about humanity, about forgiveness, about compassion. I remember as a teenager he gave me plenty to think about during a time where I might have been prone to doing too many things without thinking. He taught me to ask questions but I never questioned the love he’s had for this family. He reminds me to think, to wonder, to hope and to not be afraid to expand my horizons.

My brother Lawrence was the fun one. If you needed to be cheered up, if you needed to forget about your problems for a while, he was your guy. Every time I went to his house it seemed like it was a party. I remember leaving several times thinking; does he do this every night?!? Like Raymond he had a penchant for picking me up off the ground when I was little, except Lawrence would pick me up and perform pro wrestling maneuvers on me, like an airplane spin. I would beg to be put back down and he would just laugh and laugh. And oh my god that laugh. If you were in a bad mood, he could melt it with that laugh. I don’t know anyone who ever got more of their money’s worth with a laugh as he did. But it was more than the enjoyment of torturing his baby brother. I admired how unlike our dad, he didn’t take life so serious all the time. For that reason, if you were spending moments with him you were all but guaranteed a good time. Speaking of which, I’ll never forget when I was younger and I got to spend many nights over at his place. I always had a blast. I’ll never forget his generosity. I’ll also never forget the “loving” threats. I don’t know if he ever really meant those threats but at the time, I never thought it was a good idea to test him and find out. I believe the last one he gave me was for being a smartass with him to which he replied; “I may be getting old but I’ll still kick your ass.” For all his tough talk, I knew he had a sensitive side and a deeper love of family and friends than most people I’ve ever met. Again, like Raymond I think he’d do anything for anyone he cared about and that’s probably why so many people cared about him. I remember long ago when I helped him paint his house “lilac”. At the time, I thought it was an odd choice to paint a house purple. I questioned him about the choice of color, but only one time. I don’t remember exactly what he said but he, in his charming no-nonsense way assured me that I should shut up and get back to painting, probably at the risk of my ass getting kicked. We painted almost the whole day. That night, he treated me and everyone else who helped paint to a feast of pretty much everything we wanted. That was him, tough but tender. He’ll always remind me to have fun, to not take life too seriously and by all means he’ll remind me to laugh.  

Together the crazy one, the cool one, the smart one and the fun one made up one hell of a team. As the years have gone by, I grew and was literally no longer looking up to them. By then I realized my brothers were not superheroes, they were just men. They had flaws, made mistakes and they were not invincible. But one thing they all had & have in abundance is love... and that is their real superpower. A legacy of love can’t be defeated. It can’t be forgotten. It can’t be lost. It is indestructible and it is eternal. These are good men and now as I say goodbye to Lawrence, I’m left with a sadness that I won’t be able to hear that laugh anytime soon, but at the same time I’m sure Bryan, Raymond and Wanda are absolutely thrilled that they will… and that comforts me. Thank you Lawrence for all the love, all the good times, the memories, the jokes (good and bad)… and for being someone worth looking up to. 

Be careful what you wish for... (10-21-14)

Monday nights are not too busy at work. Perhaps I should clarify that statement. I’m as busy as I want to be at all times because I always have tasks and projects to do but in terms of customers coming in, it’s usually a bit lacking. My main job is at my desk and on my computer but if a customer comes into my room and needs help, I’m supposed to drop everything to do it. As you can imagine when it’s busy and lots of people are coming through, I don’t get much done online. People are the priority. With that in mind the best case scenario is when regulars come in. They know where everything is and have less of a need to ask questions. Sometimes this is offset if I have a friendly relationship with them and we end up chatting a little but most regulars come in, check and see what’s new and then head for the door with only brief pleasantries exchanged. This was one of those slow nights, but it wasn't boring.

One of my friends stopped by and I began multitasking, that is, trying to converse and work at the same time. There were only 2 customers in my room the whole evening. Thankfully my friend helped to take my mind off the other one who was making me a little uncomfortable. This guy has been in 3 times in the last week or so. He’s new and a little odd. First off, based on how he’s dressed in the exact same dirty clothes every time he comes in I have to assume he has a dirty job. Perhaps he’s a custodian, a mechanic or a laborer of some kind. His hair, while mostly balding is all over the place. His fingernails are filthy and I don’t think he’s too concerned about his appearance. He might be jobless for all I know and that could also explain the same dirty ensemble with each visit but his appearance nor even the mild odor coming from him isn’t what troubles me. It’s the fact that he talks to himself constantly. He’s only 20 feet away so I can’t quite hear what he’s saying because it’s closer to a mumble than regular speech but it’s like I somehow unlocked the door to his mind and every thought is just spilling out of there, out loud, for me to enjoy. I think he’s the guy they had in mind when they coined the phrase “thinking out loud”. I talk to myself sometimes, but never when someone else is within earshot. I’ve always been unnerved by people who seem to tune out everyone around them and just talk to themselves, oblivious to everything.

It wasn't as bad the other 2 times he came in last week... maybe I had something a little more focused to do, or maybe he was farther away, or maybe he didn’t stay as long, I don’t know, but tonight he’s making me extra uncomfortable. He’s digging through our huge selection of 45s furiously as if he’s looking for a needle in a haystack. He has a sheet of paper with him and it seems he has a list of the 45s he’s looking for. Unfortunately, it might take some time. When I say we have a huge selection, I’m not kidding. We have nearly 20,000 of them and they are only semi-sorted. Some people come in and give up before they get started due to the intimidation of having to look through that many records but not this guy. This guy is determined to look through the entire collection, as fast as he can in order to find whatever it is he’s looking for. I should note he’s left empty handed at the end of his last 2 visits.

Every once in a while I look up at him, working his way through each box of 45s, looking frantic yet steady. When he pulls one out to inspect it further he holds it to within an inch or two of his eyes. I guess his vision is not quite what it should be. His constant chatter seems more frequent tonight than the last 2 visits. Even once in a while he yells out “C’mon!” at the records as if he was expecting to find something but didn’t. I can’t focus on what I’m doing. Although most of the 45s are on tables, he bends over to grab a box from the floor. I was sorry I looked. He had a belt on his dirty pants but it was clearly not working. I caught a glimpse of crack and turn my head quickly in disgust.

Let me tell you something about crack. If I’m going to be unlucky enough to see some dude’s crack, I’d rather see a big dude’s crack. A big man’s crack is warm and fuzzy, sometimes literally, and more importantly it’s a stereotype. That means it’s not a surprise. They are funny. We’ve all seen it. We expect it. That's not to say we like them, I don’t think anyone does but it’s not going to send you away shrieking due to the unexpected horror. Now skinny man’s crack is always a surprise, and if the guy is thin and dirty, that makes it downright terrifying. You don't want to know what's in there. A fat man’s crack is often going to show but you also know his pants aren’t going to fall down. That big ass is going to resist the pants on the way down at some point and lock them into position. When you are looking at the crack of a thin guy who has no ass, all bets are off. If that thing slips, there’s nothing to catch it. You can go from a glimpse of crack to a full moon in a split second and the threat of that convinced me not to look that way any more. Besides, I knew where he was... I could still hear him.

Thankfully my friend came in and our chatter took my mind off the one way conversation I was (or wasn’t) having at my desk. We caught up a bit and when we were on the other side of the room we briefly discussed the strange guy talking to himself. Because we were talking about him for the first time in a while I took a quick look over there. Again I regretted it. His pants were now dangerously low. Something had to give! Thankfully it was the clock. My friend had been there over an hour but this guy was around far longer than that! He was dedicated. He was working on 2+ hours of incoherent rambling and digging. I started to wonder if I was overreacting. Was it really so bad? Was I wrong about him? Maybe he was just talking to the records. Would that make it any less weird? I wished again that he would pull those pants up. He was flirting with disaster, pun intended, and yes it was really that bad.

My saving grace was that it was near closing time. The top of the hour and the end of the work day were only 15 minutes away. I said goodbye to my friend as he left and went back to my desk. Before I sat down I announced to the man that we would be closing in about 10 minutes. He was shocked. He yelled out “Oh s**t!” Where did the time go? Time flies when you bury your head into anything so passionately. I started making preparations to leave, little things like turning off my printer, locating my phone and then taking a quick look at the guy to see if he would comply. He was even more frantic than he was when he searched through the records. This time I could hear what he was saying, he was going over which tables and which boxes of records he had checked and which he hadn’t, perhaps planning to brighten my day again soon with another visit to complete the task. He walked over, again empty handed I might add and stopped right next to me as I sat at my desk. He asked if I had a pen he could use. I looked up at him and could see he was clearly eying the pen on my desk. I think he already knew the answer to that question but the question going through my mind was; do I want him using MY pen?   

Let me tell you something about my pens. Even though the company provides us with a ton of various pens I am very picky about the type I use. I love Papermates, gray with black ink. It’s been my favorite style of pen for about a decade. I buy my own and bring them in. I like the way they feel. I like the balance. I know what you’re thinking; which one is the weird guy again? Whatever, I really like my pen. What I don’t like is letting people use it. Sometimes people don’t return it and I have to chase after them and other times people have colds, germs and a level of funkiness I don’t want coming into contact with something I’m touching frequently. This dude was pretty funky. So I pause before answering his request. I think about where the nearest alternate pen is. We’re looking at least 15 feet away. Since he’s staring at mine, to get up, ask him to excuse me as I pass him and go on a hunt for an alternate pen would be rude. I wonder why I care so much? So reluctantly I grab my pen and kind of half-hand it to him. He walks back over to where he was last and begins to write something down, an idea of where he looked and where he didn’t so he doesn’t waste time when he resumes browsing. I can’t say I would argue that logic. I’d probably do the same.

I look at my computer screen and check the time. I start closing all the open windows on my computer and check again to make sure I have my phone. My eyes drift back over to the guy to see if he was both ready to go and done with my pen and I find myself both satisfied and completely disgusted. It was a good news and bad news situation. The good news was he was finally pulling up his pants. The bad news which disgusted me is he needed to use both hands. How is that disgusting? He used both hands to pull up his pants but he didn’t exactly put my pen down. Where did he put it? In his mouth! He had the pen in his mouth and was holding it there with his teeth while he reestablished his waistline. I wanted to scream NOOOOOOOOOO! but it was too late. The pen was in there. There was nothing I could do. Yelling at the guy wouldn’t have helped. All I could do was sigh and then laugh. I thought be careful what you wish for because sometimes you get it. I wanted him to pull up his pants so badly. Mission accomplished but at what cost!?!?!

He gave back my pen and I made sure to grab it towards the tip that wasn’t in his mouth. I put it down on my desk and stared at it while the guy left, again without purchasing anything. I just brought this pen in a few days ago so I didn’t want to toss it but we were definitely at an impasse. He probably only had his mouth on the cap attached to the top of the pen but that was little comfort… if I threw away the cap, I’d have a pen with no cap. I have other pens at home, but like I said I didn’t want to toss this one, and borrowing a cap from one of the others seemed silly, because I’d have more pen than caps. My mind was running as frantically as this guy looked the 2+ hours he was here. The store was about to close in less than 5 minutes and a decision had to be made!

Think fast! I looked around at what cleaning materials were nearby. I saw CD disc-polish, vinyl cleaner and Goo Gone. I quickly checked the cap to see if he bit into it hard enough to leave bite marks. He did not so I sprayed the pen with Goo Gone, wiped it down and then repeated the application. After wiping it clean the second time I felt satisfied. No pens had to die. As I left for the night I thought about how weird that guy was but also how weird I am. I guess we are all weird in our own ways. As crazy as the night was, it was a harmless evening and gave me a story to talk about, so things could have been a lot worse.

Fast forward to tonight. The same guy, wearing the exact same clothes, looking filthy and disheveled, showed up nice and early today at 4:30. I guess he’s going to put in twice as much time as yesterday. I’m not taking any chances though. In case he does not finish browsing through the thousands of 45s I have to be ready. So I'm grabbing an extra pen, a dummy pen if you will, because I don’t know where this guy has been but I can tell you with absolute certainty where my pen won’t be going.