BILL CADY Word Count: 149,227 - At My Friend's Place

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Bill Cady, The Early Years … by Bill Cady 159 Shit, I had two legs. Each one weighed about what he did when he got down to the weight he wrestled. Mouthy, whiny little prick. He should‟ve told that David thing about it so they could cry in a duet. We retired as a group to a nearby bar. It‟s hard to figure out why the day was so perfect. The bar was called “The Clique”, long since gone from the scene. It was a nasty, dirty little dump. Located off East Saginaw, on the north side, you could only reach it using whatever side street ran alongside Saginaw for half a mile. Maybe eight or ten of us sat around drinking draft beer and telling lies, all bigger and bigger as the beers went on. I don‟t think I ever had such an enjoyable afternoon in my life by that time. The memory has always stayed with me. I damned near ruined that memory in the late 80s when I tried to relive it. The name was changed, although it was still a dump. I gathered some of the same guys together to revisit old times. It didn‟t work. Never even came close. However, in a few months, I was able to recall that wonderful afternoon again, not spoiled by bad the memory of taking a second stab at it. The other time, Rex was also with us. It was much the same crew, albeit in a different bar. This time it was the Saginaw Bar, about half a mile from my house, where I often drank beer after school. We were having a great time, laughing and telling dirty jokes, along with the standard lies about anything and everything. Our tables were a messy concoction of at least two or three shoved together, so we may have numbered as many as twelve. Other people came and went, as is always true in a poor man‟s bar. We paid no attention. We were having fun. I believe I was seventeen at the time. I saw the guys Leviticus, Limited 33-0505963
Bill Cady, The Early Years … by Bill Cady 160 come in, three of „em. All pretty good-sized. Not monsters, but big, anyway. <strong>My</strong> size, maybe bigger. Their table was close to ours, five or six feet away. Rex, of course, wasn‟t saying much. He never offered anything. Only gave an answer when asked a question, if he could. We‟d learned not to ask any hard questions, since it would likely embarrass the man. It‟s safe to say, in our own way, we all loved Rex. I know I did. One of the three guys was telling a joke, which was fine with us. We weren‟t even listening, but we were doing the same thing, so what the hell? However, he felt his joke was so good, he had to stand up to emphasize the punch line. He also said it very loud. His punch line included the word “nigger”. As soon as he said it so loud, the guy was ready to shit his pants. Rex gave no one a reason to think he wasn‟t black. A light skinned black guy. Nobody would guess the Native American blood in him. The one who told the joke seemed horrified. Complicating his error, he stared directly at Rex. Looked right at the poor man. I think he was trying to see if his wisest move was to run like hell, since he was already on his feet. Let those other two assholes save their own asses. If that huge nigger wants a piece of my young ass, I‟m outa here! I also saw Rex. Watched him hang his head in shame. I knew why he did it. He was thinking, I‟m a nigger, and this will embarrass my friends. It made him feel very bad. After a couple minutes, the joke teller realized he wasn't gonna die. It made him feel a lot better. I could see it on his face. He was happy. If he‟d only let it go at that, everything would‟ve still been okay. The man was also drinking beer. Not many of you know this, but every beer ever Leviticus, Limited 33-0505963
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BILL CADY Word Count: 149,227 - At My Friend's Place

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