Day LXVII

Big bad ass Tex

     Not long before the pool table was moved over, a new guy came in. He was a big cowboy, who had just returned from overseas duty in Japan. Methinks he was from Waco or Dallas, anyway somewhere in Texas, but I can’t be sure where. That sucker bragged all the freaking time about how nobody could kick his ass.

      “Tain’t nobody dat kin lick me, y’all, nobodeeeee E!”

 At work, in the barracks, in the mess hall, every where he bragged about how bad he was. He knew Judo, Karate, Kung Foo, and all kinds of martial arts shit he learned over there. I didn’t feel he needed any of that, because he was like 6’2” and at least 240 lbs, not at all svelte either. Like the rest of us he smoked like a chimney too.

     One morning he shows up in the day room, sporting a purple shiner, and looking like somebody who had gone 12 rounds with Sonny Liston. His left eye was swollen, black, and blue, you couldn’t see his eyeball. It was a dark slit, and he was screaming.

     “Who hit me?  Who the hell hit me?”

     It was definitely a hit and run, and the stupid ass thought he was going to  get whom ever it was to fess up. Really!

     “Where were you last night?” he howled.

     He wanted to know who had hit him.

 “Doya na who hit me, man. I gotta find this moderfooker!”

      At the time we were working 12 hour shifts, so it wasn’t any of us from the comm room. We were either sleeping or working. But, for sure it was somebody who got tired of his jive bravado, talking all the time about how nobody could beat him. He was really upset, and told us what happened to him.