Poor Sid

David Florence sat there rather uncomfortably, it had been a long tiresome week and Mr. Florence was finally going home after a sales call that took him a week to close, four days and six hours longer than he had anticipated, but that was all behind him now he had gotten the contract and was going home to a boss very pleased, perhaps a vacation was due as a added bonus.

David prided himself on his ability to read people he was a master salesman, and he believed it, he had too. Every salesman believes he is great, Mr. Florence knew he was. The numbers indicated this on his companies blackboard, showcasing the wonders of his talent.

Sitting at the little coffee shop inside the station waiting for his train to arrive Mr. Florence grew a bit restless and decided to calm himself by reading the local newspaper a story on page ten caught his eye titled The Fog Thief.

“Interesting story, who do you think did it, huh” said the voice sitting across from at his table, David taken aback a little jumped slightly in his chair and looked up, “Sidney” said the well dressed huskily built man in is 30’s, he looked more like a dock worker than the lawyer or politician getup he was in, “Sidney Rice” he said extending his hand forward, David being a natural salesman shook the firm hand saying “David Florence”.

“All my friends call me Sid”.

“Friends when did that happen, Sid” said David, nodding in agreement to himself on a fine comeback.

“We are all friends, us out of town sales guys that is…Dave”.

David was a bit disturbed how did Sidney knew he was a out of town and even more disturbing that he was a salesman, after all David thought Sid was an dock worker or a Lawyer type. This show to David definitely indicated a better salesman than himself, which was impossible since David had the best record for sales at his company. David was now thinking he cant lose the fight shot back with quiet “Dave…Yes you have permission to call me that”.

It was on, as far as David was concerned the first one to open his mouth loses, he kept thinking, although tired, his mind was quickly thumbing through every sales manual he had ever read, every instruction from every sales seminar he had attended.

“That’s great Dave” slapping his hand down on the table with a hearty laugh.
With glee David acknowledged to himself that he had won the great sales battle of the Baltimore coffee shop, he had made Sid talk first, not much of a salesman David thought of Sidney, he probably saw David Florence at one of the countless award ceremonies David had attended in his honor.

Sure that’s why David didn’t see the salesman in Sidney, Sidney wasn’t a good one at that. Sidney came over after recognizing me and wanted some tips or expert advice that’s why he wanted it to seem we were friends, poor, poor salesmanship thought David.

“I noticed you read the paper from back to front huh Dave”, said Sidney.

What did he mean by that was he saying I’m odd, peculiar or backwards thought Mr. Florence. “Well I find the little stories interesting…Sidney…and everyone knows they’re in the back of the papers”, David said with a content smile on his face, knowing full well that Sidney couldn’t even think of a comeback to match that.

“Sure the smaller stories are easier to read, not much involvement required for those” Sidney said with a slight smile.

David now knew he was being challenged again, no in fact, he was being insulted not only was he called backwards, peculiar and odd but now he was being called stupid. Someone lacking emotional maturity to understand the front page that’s what he was being called.

Before David could think of a reply Sidney asked “what’s with the fog thief”.

David quickly replied ”he is a thief he mugs innocent out of town folks in the fog, what else could it be just look at the title.

“That is true” Sidney said.

David knew right away that Sidney was backing down he had realized he made an enormous error to challenge such a expert salesman. David could sense it in his blood which was ready to boil any minute, calming himself down with acknowledging another victory for himself. David asked “so Sidney were do you hail from”, no use attacking Sidney he was no match David believed. Before a reply was possible the coffee shop loud speaker announced “the Boston train is delayed by two hours”.

“Two hours moaned David, in half an hour it will be lunch time”.

“Your not going to eat lunch here are you Dave” said Sidney.

David believed that Sidney was now testing his knowledge of Baltimore, of course he wasn’t going to eat here he knew of an nice little restaurant that served home style cooking, it was a way off perhaps a twenty minute walk but it was semi isolated and David knew mentioning that restaurant to Sidney would definitely indicate his expertise of Baltimore.

“No, I plan on eating at the Greyhound Restaurant” said David while standing up to part company.

“Great Restaurant home cooked meals says the sign, not too far either about a fifteen minute walk”, said Sidney standing up.

David stuck in “twenty minute walk” reaching out with his hand to shake Sidney’s, then men shook hands and went their way.

As David walked he could feel the mist wetting his face and he couldn’t wipe it off it kept slapping him on his face. It was foggy very foggy. Ten minutes into the walk David could hear footsteps behind him getting closer steps that belong to a man who made a living from manual labor, they were heavy and sure, David taking pride in his ability to recognize others, knew this. They steps seemed to be moving faster and getting closer David needed to turn around and see who it was, faintly through the fog he recognized a smile Sidney used to greet him, before he could utter a word he felt a sharp pain in his head a dizziness then he collapsed to the hard and damp pavement.

David Florence finds himself regaining consciousness in the local hospital a blurry recognition of a policeman and a nurse, looking at the nurse David receives a comforting smile while the policeman asks “sir do you remember anything”. David told the policeman how he was on his way to the restaurant from the train station and in the fog he had been knocked out cold by whom he thinks was a man named Sidney Rice and gave the description of Mr. Rice. Gave his particulars, and went towards the train station, going home to Boston.

Coming to the conclusion that there was a crime wave afflicting the nation, David decided to arm himself with a weapon, a gun wont do, to violent he thought, David had constructed a weapon made by stuffing a eight ball in a coarse bag attached to rope long enough to provide a solid swing and a good defeating blow to his attackers.

It’s a foggy night for David on his way home from the office, as Mr. Florence put his hand in his coat pocket and felt the reassurance of safety. It’s a thick fog similar to the one he was viciously assaulted David recalls, roughly ten minutes into the walk David hears footsteps getting closer surely these foot steps belonged to a heavy man, feeling a bit unsure David had worked out a get away plan that he practiced every night walking up to the corner of Hall st., David turned right three paces forward and a sharp left got him into the ally way safely, were he could see who was walking by even in the fog.

Well dressed huskily built man same firm, laborers steps as Sid, David thought, David began to creep out slowly and decided to follow Sid across the street into the dark parking garage, within a few steps David yelled out “Sid…Sidney Rice”.

The man turned around David swung his self defense weapon knocking out the mugger, briefly congratulating himself David decided to run off, he had done a good deed no need to stand around gloating he had taught Rice a valuable lesson in fact all muggers a valuable lesson surely these criminal types exchange stories and Rice was going to tell the others about this one.

Eating breakfast in his favorite Restaurant David could hear the conversation of two police officers sitting behind him, “did you read about what happened on the Hall st., last night” said one voice, “nope” replied the other. David knew they were talking about him, he had to hear this, he was an hero after all saved innocents all over Boston from a dangerous mugger who could even kill if he had too.

“Yeah Inspector Rice was on the trail of that fog thief the guy who mugs people in the fog, he is from Boston, when some jerk came up and hit him on the head, forensic say it was an billiard ball, killed the Inspector instantly…that bastard going to fry once we get him”.”Poor Sid” said the other voice.

Poor Sid indeed.

Currently 5.20/10
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Rating: 5.2 out of 5 votes cast