What Kind of Fool Am I, or The Second Non-Event of the Week, or Tender Mercies

Sometimes something can come along and hit you in the face, ruining an otherwise happy day. And sometimes something can come along and hit you in the face, thus adding to an already rotten day as one more burden upon your person.

Wednesday what hit my own personal face was of the former type.

It was a slow afternoon at TheCompanyIWorkFor, and the three of us who remained after the boss left were sitting, talking, swapping stories, and generally having a good old hen party. It was about 3:30. And the phone rang.

It was for me. It was Nervous William.

He began his conversation with, "I need a better umbrella, it's raining salt." Nervous William is famous for beginning conversations with sentences like this.

Earlier in the week, one of our local people died. He was just 38 years old. He was an ex of NW's, they lived together for some time. Brought up in one of the most prominent and wealthy families in the area, he led a miserable existence for a long time. He and William were perfect for each other.

Nervous William was calling me to ask me to go to this fellow's wake with him. He had no way to get there, seeing as how he's either lost his driver's license, or is just without wheels from where he set his own car on fire in a rage last year.

And I said, "No, I won't go to the wake with you, but I will drive you there and back."

And I know what you're all thinking at this point. Why in the fucking hell did you say that?

And the answer is simple. Because first and foremost, I am a fool.

However, I'm nothing if not a fool with a good heart. And I knew that this person meant a lot to NW, at least at one time in his life, and that going to the wake was important to him. And that it was me, or he didn't get to go.

The knots in the stomach started almost immediately, especially since he mentioned going out to eat afterwards. Would I make excuses about being terribly busy that night, or would I do as I've done in the past and say simply, "no," or would I finally get the guts to tell him what I really feel about him?

And so as happens with me, I began to think. Too much. Wednesday night gave way to Thursday, and by about Thursday noon I was in knots. I couldn't eat, I couldn't drink.

Then about 4:15 the phone rang and I picked it up. It was William. He thanked me for my offer, but said he wouldn't be needing my services tonight. There was something going on. He was in the definite "down" phase of whatever bipolar thing goes on with him. I don't know if he psyched himself out of going or what.

All I know is that a world of worry flew off me like so many white doves.

I kept telling myself that was my reward. I did something nice by saying yes to the request, and as a reward, I ended up not having to do it after all.

But it's a fleeting relief. Because I know that by offering something this time, I've set myself up for the next time he wants and/or needs something. Hopefully when that day comes, I'll be able to, as I have in the recent past, say, "no," give no explanation, and hang up the phone.

Betland's Olympic Update:
* My nephew now has his actual permanent driver's license. I saw him today, driving around by himself. Damn.