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“Ok let’s start with the easy stuff first. What’s your full name?” I asked.
“What the hell is this for again?” my boss asks.
“I told you it’s for school. I have to do a thorough history piece on
someone that’s not a family member.” I explained.
“Fine. Jacob Michael McNeil.” He stated.
“Any nicknames?”
“The ladies call me Mr. Big Dick, does that count?” He asked
sarcastically.
“Yeah let me jot that right down. Next is do you know why they picked
your name?”
“Yeah my mom decided out of all the lads she’d slept with the McNeil
sounded the best. Either that or just his money made the ring of the name
that much sweeter.” Jacob answered.
“I think they meant your first name.” I replied.
“How the hell should I know? One name is as good as another isn’t it?”
He asked seriously. I ignored it.
“When and where were you born?”
“Are you sure this is for school? You could be trying to steal my
identity. Taking me most sacred information and selling it to some fiend on
the streets.” Jacob declares suspiciously.
“Are you whacked on something? I told you last week it was for my
damn history paper. I even showed you the assignment sheet when you
accused me then of wanting to steal your soul.” I retorted as I shoved the
assignment paper in front of him once again.
“What are you getting so feisty for? A man can never be too sure
nowadays. Anyways I was born in Knox, Indiana.”
“How did your family come to live there? Do you have other family that
lives in the area?”
“The family got there for land. Then the McNeil Clan grew as fast as a
fat cockroach in a New York apartment. I can’t even tell you all me
relatives.” Jacob states with pride.
“What’s your earliest childhood memory?”
“It’s a tie between my pa shooting at chicken hawks and him attacking
me uncle with a shovel.” Jacob strokes his chin and seems to ponder for a
while. “Aye put the chicken hawks.”
I sit silent for a minute but shake it off and move onward.
“Describe a few personalities of family members.” I sighed at the end
of this statement knowing the answer couldn’t be good.
“Schizophrenic, depressive, psychotic, bullshitter, bullshitter, bullshitter,
thief, thief, thief, thief, just so you’s know most of them is thieves and liars,
scoundrels, scam artists, charlatans, and drug addicts. Some manipulative
and smart. Cunning buggers but thieves all the same.”
“I said personality not whether they were crazy or a criminal.”
“Both are a way of life. Criminals are of one personality. The rotten
kind that you love when they're your own but fear when you don’t. Far better
to love the criminal then lie in bed with the law man I always say.” Jacob
explains matter of fact.
I raise an eyebrow at his thoughts but decide against trying to either
understand it or ask for further insight. Instead I simply make a note, a sort
of disclaimer of sorts and move to the next question. I get all kinds of
answers. Favorite toy BB gun. School was days of ditching, criminal
activity and eventual graduation. Childhood hero - Bart Simpson. Hair fad
– mullet, clothing fad – 80’s clothes with Michael Jackson’s glove and
jacket. Pets – everything because he lived on a farm at one point. His
answers were funny, crazy and ridiculous at times.
“What did you do on holidays, events and traditional gatherings?”
“Hmmm…..well we drink.” Jacob pauses then continues, “Me ma
attacked a Snider woman at a funeral parlor and I would have took out the
man with my knife if my interfering sister hadn’t stopped me. The black
sheep that one is with her non drinking non violent ways.”
I shook my head. “Well I know you are not married….
“I was.”
“You were? When? What happened?” I asked amazed.
“She died a few years back.”
“What from?” I asked curious.
“Over dose it was but I nearly got tried for offing the wench when they
decided it wasn’t suicide.”
My mouth hung open in shock. He nodded at me as if we were both in
understanding of such an outrageous accusation when in truth I was
wondering if he did it. He started to laugh and pointed at me with
amusement.
“I never been married, but I had you going.” He laughed heartily.
I wasn’t sure if he was covering it up or he was psycho. I figured it was
best not to know and continued.
“Why’d you choose this job?” I asked.
“Being an editor allows me to put as much trash as I like into a paper
and rip to shred trash I don’t like. It’s a win win.”
“Yeah I see the joy when you’re yelling at the columnists to get their shit
in on time.” I said sarcastically.
“I’d beat them if it was legal 'cause a man has to do what a man has to
do……are you sure this is for school? Those columnists put you up to this?
Which one is stealing me identity?” Jacob demands.
“Again? Seriously? With the identity theft again? I showed you the
paper twice already. Are you insane?” I asked.
“You can never be too sure. Either I am or I’m not.”
I ignore this and show the paper once again. He examines it thoroughly
then gestures for me to continue. I choose one last question for the day.
“What’s the most important thing you’ve learned over the years?” I
asked.
“Not to get caught.” He smiles.
Thirty minutes later:
Two blocks away I take my boss’ advice and sell his identity to a fiend
on the street.
“What the hell is this for again?” my boss asks.
“I told you it’s for school. I have to do a thorough history piece on
someone that’s not a family member.” I explained.
“Fine. Jacob Michael McNeil.” He stated.
“Any nicknames?”
“The ladies call me Mr. Big Dick, does that count?” He asked
sarcastically.
“Yeah let me jot that right down. Next is do you know why they picked
your name?”
“Yeah my mom decided out of all the lads she’d slept with the McNeil
sounded the best. Either that or just his money made the ring of the name
that much sweeter.” Jacob answered.
“I think they meant your first name.” I replied.
“How the hell should I know? One name is as good as another isn’t it?”
He asked seriously. I ignored it.
“When and where were you born?”
“Are you sure this is for school? You could be trying to steal my
identity. Taking me most sacred information and selling it to some fiend on
the streets.” Jacob declares suspiciously.
“Are you whacked on something? I told you last week it was for my
damn history paper. I even showed you the assignment sheet when you
accused me then of wanting to steal your soul.” I retorted as I shoved the
assignment paper in front of him once again.
“What are you getting so feisty for? A man can never be too sure
nowadays. Anyways I was born in Knox, Indiana.”
“How did your family come to live there? Do you have other family that
lives in the area?”
“The family got there for land. Then the McNeil Clan grew as fast as a
fat cockroach in a New York apartment. I can’t even tell you all me
relatives.” Jacob states with pride.
“What’s your earliest childhood memory?”
“It’s a tie between my pa shooting at chicken hawks and him attacking
me uncle with a shovel.” Jacob strokes his chin and seems to ponder for a
while. “Aye put the chicken hawks.”
I sit silent for a minute but shake it off and move onward.
“Describe a few personalities of family members.” I sighed at the end
of this statement knowing the answer couldn’t be good.
“Schizophrenic, depressive, psychotic, bullshitter, bullshitter, bullshitter,
thief, thief, thief, thief, just so you’s know most of them is thieves and liars,
scoundrels, scam artists, charlatans, and drug addicts. Some manipulative
and smart. Cunning buggers but thieves all the same.”
“I said personality not whether they were crazy or a criminal.”
“Both are a way of life. Criminals are of one personality. The rotten
kind that you love when they're your own but fear when you don’t. Far better
to love the criminal then lie in bed with the law man I always say.” Jacob
explains matter of fact.
I raise an eyebrow at his thoughts but decide against trying to either
understand it or ask for further insight. Instead I simply make a note, a sort
of disclaimer of sorts and move to the next question. I get all kinds of
answers. Favorite toy BB gun. School was days of ditching, criminal
activity and eventual graduation. Childhood hero - Bart Simpson. Hair fad
– mullet, clothing fad – 80’s clothes with Michael Jackson’s glove and
jacket. Pets – everything because he lived on a farm at one point. His
answers were funny, crazy and ridiculous at times.
“What did you do on holidays, events and traditional gatherings?”
“Hmmm…..well we drink.” Jacob pauses then continues, “Me ma
attacked a Snider woman at a funeral parlor and I would have took out the
man with my knife if my interfering sister hadn’t stopped me. The black
sheep that one is with her non drinking non violent ways.”
I shook my head. “Well I know you are not married….
“I was.”
“You were? When? What happened?” I asked amazed.
“She died a few years back.”
“What from?” I asked curious.
“Over dose it was but I nearly got tried for offing the wench when they
decided it wasn’t suicide.”
My mouth hung open in shock. He nodded at me as if we were both in
understanding of such an outrageous accusation when in truth I was
wondering if he did it. He started to laugh and pointed at me with
amusement.
“I never been married, but I had you going.” He laughed heartily.
I wasn’t sure if he was covering it up or he was psycho. I figured it was
best not to know and continued.
“Why’d you choose this job?” I asked.
“Being an editor allows me to put as much trash as I like into a paper
and rip to shred trash I don’t like. It’s a win win.”
“Yeah I see the joy when you’re yelling at the columnists to get their shit
in on time.” I said sarcastically.
“I’d beat them if it was legal 'cause a man has to do what a man has to
do……are you sure this is for school? Those columnists put you up to this?
Which one is stealing me identity?” Jacob demands.
“Again? Seriously? With the identity theft again? I showed you the
paper twice already. Are you insane?” I asked.
“You can never be too sure. Either I am or I’m not.”
I ignore this and show the paper once again. He examines it thoroughly
then gestures for me to continue. I choose one last question for the day.
“What’s the most important thing you’ve learned over the years?” I
asked.
“Not to get caught.” He smiles.
Thirty minutes later:
Two blocks away I take my boss’ advice and sell his identity to a fiend
on the street.
 |