Tonight I was in a fairly dodgy dive, just relaxing a bit, when I was approached by an odd little man who introduced himself as Glenn, and who quickly asked me what my name was right after telling me his.
So I told him my name and he jabbed his hand out to mine and clasped his other hand around both of ours when I took up his offered hand in order to shake it,
He stared up at me real close and said, "You look like a guy I knew named Dan. Except Dan is dead now. But you look just like him. Kinda freaky. Dan was a friend of mine from way back when I was a kid. He was my friend until he shot me seventeen times and tried to kill my wife, too. My wife is a little black person, a midget who is black. Dan tried to kill both of us, shot me seventeen times and shot my wife too."
He said all of that in a single breath, as if he had to get it all out at once or he wouldn't be able to get a single word out.
I laughed a little to myself when he was rolling with his dialogue, and when he finished said to him, "You were shot seventeen times and you're still alive? You must have quite a few serious scars."
That's when he pulled up his shirt and exposed a pale belly riddled with scars from bullet wounds and surgery. He then said, "You can take a picture if you want."
So I did. It's not everyday you meet a person who has been shot seventeen times and survived,
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