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That Ugly Crowd

Nathan Hahs

Chapter 1

    I am a teller at a bank. It’s a small bank with only 10 branches, all of which are located here in Denver. The branch I work in is downtown. I am one of only two male employees. The other one only works on Saturday.
    My apartment is on the corner of Alameda and Quebec. To get to work, I take the #2 bus north on to Colfax. From there I take the #11 bus west downtown to Broadway. I see a lot of weird shit on the #11.
    This morning someone set off a stink bomb on the #11. I could smell it right when the driver opened the doors. A few people actually refused to board the bus. I don’t really blame them. I covered my mouth and nose with my scarf and I could still smell it.
    I won’t be going home for Christmas this year. I went home last year. My parents and my little sister live in Fairbanks, Alaska. I was born and raised there. Between my junior and senior years of high school, some friends and I took a road trip from Fairbanks down to Denver. I really liked the Mile High City and moved here right after graduation. I didn’t know anyone then and still don’t, really. I became friends with Mark Johnson (a coworker), but he moved to St. Louis last year.

    The next day, I encountered some sort of neo-nazi on the #11. He was exiting the bus as I was getting on. All I heard was “...and the Aryan race. May God sodomize you people and remove you from this planet.” I stepped aside as he walked past me and out the door. He then turned around, gave us the nazi salute, and shouted “Heil Hitler!” I feel bad for those people who were stuck on the bus with him.
    At work a man walks up to me and says, “Thirteen is such a janky number for me.”
    I said “Okay. How can I help you?”
    He explained that he has two savings accounts and that the balance on both of them is identical- $100.13.
    “You see, I can’t feel right with that number in there.” He handed me two withdrawal requests, each for $0.13.
    I processed his transactions and gave him his money. Superstition sure has a grip on some people.
    My girlfriend Tanji came over tonight. She’s very attractive, but not very interesting. She’s always telling me stories about her friend Michelle, whom I’ve never met. From what I gather, this friend Michelle has had an interesting life. She told me how Michelle had gotten thrown out of a bank once for making a joke about a robbery. Michelle was cashing a check or something and made a comment about a robbery. The teller did not find this amusing and asked an armed security guard to throw her out.
    I told Tanji that it must have been a big bank to have armed security guards. At Front Range Bank- where I work- we don’t have any guards. She said that she wasn’t sure which bank it was.
    Tanji is leaving tomorrow on a trip to her parent’s for Christmas. Her parents live in Hawaii. She’ll be back on the 30th. She and I don’t have any plans for New Year’s yet, but I’m sure we’ll do something together.
    Tanji’s little brother is retarded. I met him last July 4th when her family came here for her birthday. He’s short and pudgy and calls everybody Guy. I get nauseous when I’m around retarded people. I don’t hate them or anything; I just get nauseous. I’ve only vomited once. It was at a McDonald’s several years ago. There was a field trip or something for retarded people and they had stopped for lunch. As soon as I saw them I totally lost my appetite. They sat by me and I got sick. I ran into the bathroom and puked up my two cheeseburgers. I’ve told this to Tanji and I think she understands that I don’t ever act mean or condescending. I just get nauseous.

Chapter 2

    One of my coworkers is from Alaska. Cathryn Gray was born and raised in Anchorage and is the same age I am. Her husband is also from Anchorage. They moved to Colorado to be with his parents, who moved here when they retired. I have a little crush on her. On days when we have our lunch breaks together, we swap stories about life in the 49th state. She’s one of the two people I talk to about my personal life, her and Mark.
    This morning a woman cashed a check for 14 cents. It was for some sort of rebate. Who the hell sends off for a rebate for 14 cents? It cost more to mail the check.
    Later in the day this man says to me “What do you think of the rectum as a hole?”
    I looked up at this man who had just deposited his paycheck and said “Excuse me?”
    He repeated his question. I thought that maybe my dirty, little mind had jumbled what he had actually said, but I was wrong.
    “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you.” I said and stared directly into his eyes to try and tell if he was making some type of joke. He repeated himself and stared right back at me. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, he nodded at me and said “No comment?”
    I said nothing and the man turned and walked out of the branch. The teller next to me asked me if that man had said what she thought he had said. I confirmed her suspicions.
    “I’m glad that happened to you and not me,” She said.
    The flu is going around here. Everyone seems to have a cough or a fever or an upset stomach. I saw on the news that some schools are even closed for today and tomorrow since so many kids are sick. Our call-ins at work have been higher than usual, but I didn’t think we were having an epidemic. Maybe we are. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that I don’t get it. I haven’t had the flu since junior high.

    This evening I did my Christmas shopping. I took the easy way out and bought everyone gift certificates. With the exception of Tanji, everyone got a gift certificate. Tanji is getting a necklace from Tiffany & Co. She goes ape over anything from Tiffany. Most women do.
    She called me early this evening from Hawaii. She has the flu. It started on her flight. I feel bad for her. She sounded awful. That’s no way to spend Christmas and who the hell wants to be sick while they’re in Hawaii.
    A homeless man was standing on the corner of Quebec and Colfax this morning. For some reason, I gave him what little change I had in my pocket. I never give the homeless money. Never. Today I did and I am ashamed to admit that I feel guilty for doing it. In my mind that homeless man is only going to spend that money on booze or drugs. He won’t buy food; he’ll buy shit to feed his addictions. So have I really helped him?
    I just realized that my Christmas cards have a typo on them. Instead of saying “Have a Happy Christmas” it says “Have a Bappy Christmas.” Well, too bad. Everyone will have to settle for this janky card.
    At work I spend half of my time working in our drive-through. To keep myself from dying of boredom I tally the number of smokers and the number of fat people I see. Today My FPN (Fat People Number) crossed the 6000 mark. My SN (Smokers Number) is significantly lower. Right now the count is 3103. If there’s one thing I don’t ever want to be, it’s bored.

    There was a retarded man on the bus. He was making an incessant ‘raspberry’ and spit was flying all over the place. It was nasty. It made me feel so sick that I couldn’t read. I had to distract myself by thinking of Tanji naked and fantasizing about her.
    One of my neighbors was arriving home at the same time I was. Judy lives next door to me and is in her seventies. She was trying to get down the hall with all the usual crap she carries (she’s a packrat) as well as her groceries. First she dropped her newspaper, then her umbrella, then her purse. I offered to help and she handed me her one bag of groceries. I escorted her to her door and wished her a Merry Christmas. I’m not very friendly or out-going with my neighbors, except Judy.
    I had a voice mail from Tanji when I got home. Her mother is a hypochondriac and is always trying strange and unusual home remedies. Tanji said her mother is having a heyday with her flu. Being sick is bad enough, but having a mother who wants you to eat garlic, ginger, mandrake, and I’m not sure what else must really suck.

    The temperature reached a warm 59 degrees this afternoon. Not bad for being three days before Christmas. I was able to wear only a jacket (it was pretty windy) instead of my winter coat. I haven’t worn this particular jacket since last year, when I went to Estes Park with some coworkers, to get out of the city. We hiked around and I must have picked up an acorn, because I found one in my jacket pocket this morning.
    A woman deposited a check for 6 cents today. I thought the 14 cent check was ridiculous, but this is even worse. The ink and fancy paper cost more than 6 cents. It’s not worth even standing in line for that amount. Both checks were drawn off the same bank, somewhere in Idaho.
    When I got home there were a couple police cars and an ambulance parked by my building. The apartment manager was also outside. It turns out that Judy died in her sleep. I mentioned to the police that I had seen her last night and they asked me to fill out a statement. I think I was the last person to see her alive. That’s a little creepy. I hope this doesn’t ruin Christmas for her family, if she has any.

    The next morning I got a voice mail from somebody named George Trujillo. He said he was calling in reference to Ms. Janz. I don’t know anyone named Janz, so I erased it.
    I called my family and friends to wish them all a merry Christmas.
    Tanji is getting better and returns to Denver on the 30th. We decided that we would find a bar near my apartment and hang out there on New Year’s. A simple plan is a good plan. I told her about Judy’s death and she told me that her friend Michelle used to work with this man who got fired right before Christmas for being drunk at work. He then got completely wasted and committed suicide on the 24th. Tanji said that Michelle told her that the suicide letter he wrote blamed everything on his being fired.
    I couldn’t get a hold of my parents. I think they had gone to church. Every year they go to midnight mass or something similar. When I called my sister, she said the Mom and Dad were, indeed, at mass. She and I talked for almost an hour. We don’t talk often.
    My grandparents are dead, so I didn’t call them.
    I think most people did their banking earlier in the week, because it was a rather slow day. It was also a short day; we closed at 1pm. But as soon as we closed the doors people began banging on them. Those people should not have procrastinated.

Chapter 3

    Somebody puked right by the employee entrance to the bank and it was frozen to the ground. It was a huge mess that we all had to walk around to get the door.
    At work we have a bulletin board where the manager puts up information that she thinks we should read. One of the things up there is the Fraud du Jour. Everyday she posts info regarding crime. Today’s posting was on counterfeit currency. I’m glad I read it because I encountered some today.
    This fifteen year-old girl comes to me with a deposit of cash. It was mixed bills and I noticed that the five dollar bills felt different than the rest of them. I asked the girl where she got the money and she told me that her mother, who was outside smoking, had given it to her to deposit into the mother’s account. She said her mother had gotten the money from another downtown bank. I excused myself and found my lead teller. The lead teller called the police while I went back to the girl and pretended that something was wrong with my computer. We use the computers as an excuse to stall. People expect computers to malfunction. Within a couple minutes the police arrived. We have two little offices that are used specifically for questioning people. The police took the girl in one of them. After about 15 minutes, her mother came in the branch and the police grabbed her. They took her to the other office for questioning. After another 15 minutes, my lead teller pulled me aside. The police now needed to talk to me. I told them what had happened and one of the three officers in the room took notes. It was fun. I like it when I get to help catch the bad guys.
    Just before leaving for the day, our Branch Manager Janet called me into her office. She gave me a $50 check for catching the fake bills and updated me on what had happened. She said that the mother had told the police that they were all innocent. She said that she had gotten the money from a casino in Black Hawk and simply wanted to make a deposit. She then said that she had nothing to hide and that the police were welcome to search her house. So they left the branch to do exactly that. My manager said that we’ll probably never know if they found anything.
    December 26th is always busy for us and today was no exception. Everyone wants to cash their Christmas checks or get money for the after-Christmas sales. Some people even made their loan payments. Good for them.

    The police were back at the bank today. A man gave us a stolen social security number as proof of identity.
One of the Account Representatives was trying to open a checking account for this man when she caught it. The usual procedure is for the Account Representative to email our risk management department and then notify the manager so the manager can call the police. The A.R. stays with the customer just to stall them and keep them from running out. As with counterfeit bills, this is handled with faux computer problems. This is exactly what the A.R. did today. The police arrived before anyone knew what was happening. We see this type of identity fraud once a month.
    A man came in to turn in the keys to his truck. The keys were in an envelope with a note stating that he could no longer afford his payments. He walked in, handed the envelope to the teller next to me and walked out. He didn’t say a word. This was right after we opened.
    At lunch Cathryn told me that she is pregnant. She said that she went to her doctor on the 24th.
I’m a little envious of her husband. They weren’t planning this, it just happened. They told their parents on Christmas day. Cathryn seemed a little in shock. She’s due in August and is going to announce it to everyone else next week.
    Right before we closed Jot came in. Jot d’Lowry is this old black man who is always drunk. He’s usually very friendly, but always drunk. He comes in regularly for cash. Jot never can remember his account number or his balance. I helped him withdraw his last $200. I asked him if he was doing anything exciting for New Year’s. His response was “I’ve already started.”

    FPN: 6205

    SN: 3271

    Someone puked on the bus this evening. It must have happened right before I got on, because it smelled fresh.
    A moving company was at Judy’s when I got home. There didn’t seem to be any family present, because everything was handled objectively and in a business-like fashion. They packed up all of her things and just hauled them off. Everything was done as if she were moving; it was boxed up and labeled. I suppose they will auction off all of her junk. She had so much stuff in her apartment that it gave me a claustrophobic feeling to be in there.
    I received another voice mail from George Trujillo. This time he left his phone number. I’ll call him after New Year’s and find out who he is and who this Ms. Janz is.

Chapter 4

    Tanji got home yesterday. It was quite a climate adjustment for her. Two days ago she was in Hawaii hanging out at the beach; yesterday she landed in Denver and it was snowing. We got about six inches. I talked to her on my lunch break. She is coming over at 10pm. She said she finally overcame the flu, but gave it to her sister before leaving. I saw on the news that all 50 states have now reported cases of influenza.
    When she came over, she brought her Christmas present from Michelle. It was a Patsy Cline CD. We listened to “Crazy” about a hundred times. That was Tanji and Michelle’s song. According to Tanji, Michelle would always play it on the jukebox at their favorite bar. Without fail, somebody would ask Michelle to dance. I don’t get it, but apparently Michelle goes ape for this dead country music singer. That song is like some sort of aphrodisiac for her and the men around her.
    It’s so good to see Tanji. She looked amazing! She was wearing a long, black dress (low-cut, of course) that emphasized all the right parts. She’s a knock-out. We walked to the bar, which was very crowded. I ordered us a round of drinks and Tanji disappeared. “Crazy” was playing before she even got back to me. I didn’t realize that damn CD was in the jukebox here. I guess I can tolerate that song, if this date will end a certain way.

    The bank was closed on the 1st, which was nice. Tanji and I were able to sleep off our hangovers. We woke about noon and went out for lunch. Afterwards, Tanji went home. She had to finish unpacking and wanted to give Michelle a call. Tanji and Michelle always talk on New Year’s Day. It’s a little tradition they have. Mostly they swap stories about the previous night’s adventures.
    Jot came back in today wanting some more money. He said he should have $200 still in his account. I told him that he had made a withdrawal on the 31st, but he had no memory of this. Being the good-natured man that he is, he responded with “Dandy. Well, my social security comes through tomorrow. I guess I can wait till then.”
    I wish everyone was as pleasant as Jot. There was a full moon last night and everybody was acting funky all day. There was a weird vibe amongst the employees and nearly every customer seemed agitated or pre-occupied.
    The temperature dropped to -7. Hardly anyone came into the lobby; everyone was at the drive-through. I worked the lobby today, so boredom was inevitable. In a futile attempt to stay busy, I filed December’s paperwork. Normally this takes all day, but with no customers I completed it in half an hour. I ended up leaving work early because it was so slow.
    When I got home I called Mr. George Trujillo. George is Judy’s lawyer and Janz is her last name. I’d lived next door to her for five years and never learned her last name. She, however, knew mine. In fact, she knew a lot about me and I guess she liked what she knew, because I was the only person named in her will. She had no family and no friends, except me. So, today I found out that I inherited $250,000-the total value of her estate. Holy shit! Mr. Trujillo told me that I need to come to his office as soon as possible to sign some papers and finalize this matter. I said that I would be there first thing tomorrow.
    I called the bank to request a personal day for tomorrow. My head was spinning and my heart was racing. I was going ape. I switched on the TV to distract myself, hoping to calm down a little. I began making a mental list of what I needed to do and what I wanted to do. This list occupied me until dawn.

    When the new year begins, people can’t seem to remember to change the year when they date their checks. This results in a lot of problems for people trying to cash or deposit these checks. Generally, we refuse them. For stubborn customers who insist on depositing these stale-dated checks, we just tell them that if the check is returned, they will be charged $25. The bank makes a killing on this $25 fee each January.
    We have a customer who is a cross-dresser. I know it’s a man, because the drivers license says ‘Wayne’ on it, not Jane, which the customer likes to be called. He also has an adam’s apple and hairy knuckles. The picture on his drivers license is just how he looks when he comes in, complete with make-up and big, dangling earrings. He doesn’t talk or behave like a woman, he only dresses like one. Today he came in with his wife to get a check for their house closing. I know it’s his wife because they both wear wedding bands and I’ve seen his wife’s ID and it matches the name on their joint account.
    After my lunch break Janet called me into her office. I wasn’t sure what was going on, until she asked me if I had any knowledge of a large deposit wired into my checking account. I remembered George telling me that I could expect to receive my money very quickly. I didn’t think it would be so soon. I explained to my manager what I had been doing the previous day. She told me I should have notified the bank of this deposit prior to receiving it, so it does not arouse any suspicion. I apologized and told her that I just found out myself. She assured me that I was not in any trouble and I assured her that I was not up to anything criminal. She congratulated me and asked if I had any plans for the money. I told her that my big plan was to buy a house. I came up with this during my brainstorm two nights ago.
    My list, in it’s entirety, is as follows: take $200,000 and buy a house; $5,000 will be spent on a vacation that Tanji and I will take next month to Mexico; I will put $35,000 in a 60 month certificate of deposit; I’ll give $1,000 each to Cathryn and Mark, my two friends; $3,000 to my sister; $5,000 to my parents. I was tempted to go on a shopping spree, but after the house is paid for I’ll no longer have to pay anything for a roof over my head. That will free up several hundred dollars a month from my regular paycheck. I can use that to update my wardrobe. It’s not the most complicated plan, but I am happy with it.
    Tanji and I went out for dinner tonight and I told her about the money. She went into hysterics and we had to leave the restaurant. When we got back to my apartment and she calmed down (this took over an hour), I told her about the trip to Mexico. I have not booked anything yet and asked her if she’d go with me on Saturday to see her travel agent. She emphatically agreed. I figured she would.

    I woke up late today and didn’t have time to shower before running to catch the bus. The public address system was broken on the #11. It was continually announcing the next stop and it was louder than I have ever heard it. “...Next stop Monaco, transfer to Route #13 and #409...Next stop Monaco, transfer to Route #13 and #409...Next stop Colorado Boulevard, transfer to Route #265...” This got stuck in my head.
    At work we had an older customer wet himself on one of our lobby chairs. I got stuck cleaning it up, since our cleaning crew only works after hours. All I could hear while I scrubbed the cushions was “Next stop Grant...Next stop Grant...”
    I would never sit in one of our lobby chairs. I have seen a dog shit on them, a child puke on them, and now the urine. People don’t know what they are exposing themselves to when they take a seat.

    FPN: 6331

    SN: 3307

Chapter 5

    When I came up with my list, I was up all night. I haven’t been up all night since my road trip out here and that was over five years ago. I have a headache that, I’m sure, is a result of lack of sleep and I can’t get the damn bus intercom recording out of my head. With the excitement of buying a house (I have an appointment with a realtor in a few days), the vacation, and the extra money, I’m not sleeping well. My sleep schedule is all out of wack.
    Tanji and I went to her travel agent on Saturday. The weather was so nice that we didn’t even need jackets. It was -7 last week, but has been in the low 60’s almost everyday since then. We walked and whenever I saw a bus, I would hear “...Next stop Monaco, transfer to Route #13 and #409...next stop Monaco, transfer to Route #13 and #409...Next stop Grant...Next stop Grant...” in my head.
    We booked an all-inclusive two-week trip to Mexico. We leave the first Friday in February and are staying at a very nice resort in Acapulco. We’ll spend most of our time at the beach, but will spend two days in Mexico City, just for a change of scenery.

    This morning the heater on the bus was broken. The temperature dropped into the twenties last night and my ride on the #11 was very uncomfortable. I could see my breath inside the bus. Riding the bus has become a particularly unpleasant experience for me, because I hear the bus intercom externally (the real one) and internally (the one in my head).
    The bus driver would announce “...Next stop Glencoe, transfer to the #28...” and then in my head I would hear “...Next stop Josephine...Next stop Josephine...”
    Since I woke up I had been preoccupied with buying a house. I never noticed how many ‘For Sale’ signs there are in my neighborhood, until I was looking to buy a house and houses in Denver are expensive. I was hoping that for $200,000 I would have a little something to show for it, but it looks that amount will essentially only buy me a condo. I don’t want a condo. I want a little land, not a lot, just a little.
    “...Next stop Grant...” I heard the driver say. “...Next stop Monaco, transfer to Route #13 and #409...next stop Monaco, transfer to Route #13 and #409...” My mind added.
    Work was slow all morning. Jot came in and withdrew some money. When I was finished with him, I walked down to the copier to refill it with paper, something I do when it’s slow. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Jot walk over to my manager’s desk. I grabbed two reams of paper and put the first on in the copier. I stood holding the second one while I heard “...Next stop Colorado Boulevard, transfer to Route #265...” in my head. This was suddenly interrupted by a scream. I looked to my left and saw Jot strangling Janet. My eyes grew to the size of dinner plates. This was the most wild thing I have ever seen at work. More exciting than the stolen checks, more exciting than the old man who peed his pants while standing in line, and crazier than the woman who tried to give me her drugs and her crackpipe. Without even being aware of it, I walked over to Jot, the ream of paper still in my hand. I did notice that all of the other employees were just standing there dumbfounded. No one was helping our manager. I raised the ream of paper and shouted “Hey” at Jot. With his hands still on her neck he twisted his head to see who was yelling at him. When I saw his bloodshot eyes, I swung the paper directly at his head. His nose caved in and blood began pouring out. Those bloodshot eyes rolled back up in his head and he went limp. His arms fell to his side and he collapsed. His head made a dull thud as it hit the floor.
    By the time he hit the floor, one of the A.R.’s had called the police and one of the tellers had gotten the first aid kit. Every desk and teller station has a manila envelope taped under it that contains various documents and instructions for what to do in the event that something like this happens. Most of us thought we’d only open our ‘Crime Packets,’ as we call them, if we were robbed. Today we got to open them for Jot.
    Janet was given an icepack and the lead teller stayed with her until the paramedics arrived. She was taken immediately to the hospital. The two other customers who were in the branch when this happened were cooperative enough to fill out statements for the police before going home. I was put in a room all by myself until the police arrived. Our Crime Packets tell us to separate everyone directly involved. Janet got to go to the E.R. I got to go to one of our little interrogation offices. The rest of the day our branch was flooded with people from our corporate office. Some of them needed to be there; most of them just wanted to see what happened.
    Before we were all sent home at 5pm, we were informed that we would be closed the following day, but that we would all have to report to work as usual. They also said that Janet was okay, but was going to take the next several days off. I was then pulled aside and told that I would be working at our corporate office the day after tomorrow. They didn’t tell me why, but I figured that someone- our H.R. Director, Security Director, or possibly a Vice President- wanted to talk to me. I didn’t think I was in too much trouble, since I was not arrested, but you never can tell.

    FPN: 6404

    SN: 3353

    I called Tanji at work to let her know what had happened, but couldn’t get a hold of her. So I emailed Smoe. I spend that evening and almost all night on the internet looking at prices for homes. First I checked only the Denver area, then all of Colorado, and lastly the entire West and Midwest. I found the largest houses for the cheapest price in Cleveland, Ohio. I finally went to sleep at dawn while “Next stop Glencoe, transfer to the #28...Next stop Glencoe, transfer to the #28...Next stop Grant...Next stop Grant...” played in my head.

    The bank’s Security Director William stayed at our branch today. We were all asked to come to work so we could talk about the prior day’s incident. William called this a critique. As I am normally the only male at work during the week, it was nice to have another one around. The bank bought us all lunch and all we did, all day, was talk about work, the incident, and our reactions to it. Towards the end of the day, we were all asked to fill out a statement. William told us we would fill out another statement in a week, another one in a month, and a final one a year from now. He said the bank’s priority was its employees and these statements were one way of monitoring our mental well-being and recovery, while aiding in the investigation of Janet’s attack.
    Cathryn and I had sat together at lunch and chatted a little. She told me she was proud of me. She said she was still in shock over the whole thing. I told her it would take time to get over and she gave me a hug. All of the women here are super-emotional today. I’ve never seen so many people cry at once. William said this was normal.
    Just like yesterday, I was pulled aside at the end. William thanked me for intervening and helping Janet. He said that tomorrow I would be speaking with the Director of H.R. and Janet. He said I should not be nervous, which I wasn’t. He told me this meeting was at Janet’s request. I could dress casually; it was to be a very informal day. I would be paid for a full day, but could go home at noon. After that, my schedule (along with everyone else’s) would return to normal. I hadn’t really given it much thought, but I was beginning to get the impression that I was something of a hero. I’ve never been a hero before. With all of this excitement, I’ve had trouble concentrating. The bus intercom “...Next stop Broadway, have a nice day...Next stop Broadway, have a nice day...” was still running.
    After work I had my appointment with the realtor. Her office is downtown, only a short walk from the bank. This meeting was brief. I told her how much I had to spend, but that I wanted to buy something in Cleveland, not Denver. She said she had a colleague in Ohio and that she would have this person call me in the next couple of days.
    I finally got a hold of Tanji tonight. I had called her early this morning and also at lunch, but never reached her. I was shocked that she didn’t go ape when I told her what happened. The bank managed to keep it off of the news, so no one except the employees (and those two unfortunate customers) really knew anything about it. She said she was not surprised that I had jumped in and hit Jot. She said I was brave. I didn’t mention Cleveland to her. That will upset her and, besides, I was tired of talking.

    At our corporate office Janet did most of the talking. This was her first chance to discuss her attack. She and the Director of H.R., whose name is also Janet, both talked a mile a minute. All I had to do was sit there and add an “Okay” or an “I agree” every now and then. This was fine; I felt I had said my piece yesterday. Janet, my manager, wanted to thank me and Janet, from H.R. wanted to be sure that I was doing okay. She said that it’s not everyday you get to be a hero. I was about to add something meaningful and heartfelt to the conversation, when the bus intercom went off in my head. “Next stop Broadway, have a nice day...Next stop Broadway, have a nice day...Next stop Cleveland...Next stop Cleveland....”
    “Thank you,” was all that came out.
    H.R. Janet commented that I was rather quiet. I explained how I felt and she said that was understandable. I said that I didn’t consider myself a hero. As soon as I said this Manager Janet burst into tears. She said that her whole like had flashed before her eyes when Jot was strangling her. She said she had been involved in two robberies, but had never had anyone just come after her. She told us that this was much more personal for her. No one had any idea what had caused Jot to do this.

    The Ohio realtor called me tonight. I am flying to Cleveland tomorrow to look at some homes and will fly back Sunday night. Tanji is coming over then and I’ll let her know about my proposed relocation. I’m going to tell my family and the bank on Monday.
    I emailed Mark to let him know that I will be probably be moving a little closer to him.

Chapter 6

    I looked at 20 homes on Saturday and eight more on Sunday. After viewing the eight on Sunday, we went back to the second home that I saw on Saturday. This was my favorite. It was ranch style, four bedrooms with three baths, on a one-acre plot of land, built in 1984, and available for $169,000. I told the realtor that he would be hearing from George Trujillo, my attorney, and that I would like to get things moving quickly. I took two rolls of pictures to show Tanji and my family.
    “Tanji,” I said, “I have been giving some thought to moving.” We had just finished dinner and were each sipping on a glass of pinot grigio (her favorite wine).
    “Yeah? Where?”
    “Well...in Cleveland?” I said.
    “Oh.” she responded. I could tell she trying to figure out if this was some scheme to break off the relationship.
    “Ohio. I looked at houses over the weekend. I had wanted to buy something here, but...
    “You went to Cleveland? When?” she asked.
    “Over the weekend. To look at some houses. Remember, I told you I wanted to buy a house? Everything here is too expensive. I found a really great deal. I have pictures.” I was talking quickly. I could feel her blood pressure rising.
    “Now calm down.” I told her reassuringly. “I don’t want to break it off.”
    “You don’t? Well...?” She raised her eyebrows. Her eyes were red.
    “I thought maybe you would like to move with me.” I said and took finished my glass.
    “So you don’t want to end our relationship.” She let out a huge sigh. “You want to move to Cleveland when?
    “Pretty soon. As soon as I can get everything squared away.” I told her. “Next stop Cleveland...Next stop Cleveland...” I thought.
    “So, like a month?”
    “Yes. We can start packing when we get back from Mexico.”
    “So, we’re still going to Mexico?”
    “Hell, yeah. And then we’re going to move to Cleveland. It’s a nice house. Let me show you the pictures.” I refilled our glasses and talked her through the pictures. After much cuddling and reassuring, Tanji consented to moving to Ohio with me. We spent the rest of the evening planning who to tell and how to tell them.

    Janet was not at work (she’s still recuperating) so I told our Assistant Manager that I would be leaving at the end of February. She seemed disappointed, but not shocked. “You’ve had a strange month, haven’t you?” she asked. I nodded.
    “Our hero is leaving us,” she said as I left her office. I smiled at her and said that I felt bad for Jot’s nose.
    That evening I wrote out the checks to the people to whom I was giving money. I enclosed a letter updating everyone on my plans. I expect that everyone of these people will call as soon as they see the check. They probably won’t even read the damn letter.

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