Here is my problem with this whole situation – I’m not pissed off that Brian pretended not to know me. I’m not angry that he dipped into his mother’s life savings, took off without so much as a note and then had the nerve to parouse the Sci-Fi section of the local Barnes and Noble…I’m not mad about any of that. What really gets me is that Brian thought he could get away with it…
Seriously, I slept in your bed almost every Friday night until we were thirteen. We made forts in your backyard, traded Kit Kats for Butterfingers on Halloween because he thought they weren’t “buttery’ enough. We went to our first dance together, played in the sprinkler together on hot days…you think I don’t know you, bro?
“What are you doing?” I asked, baffled.
“What ever do you mean, lady?” he replied, still with the fake ass Irish accent.
“Your voice…what the fuck are you doing with your voice, Brian?” I stammered, beginning to feel the blood rushing to my cheeks.
“I’m sorry lass but you’ve mistaken me for some other boyle.”
That was the last straw – I fucking lost my shit and slapped him straight across the face. “All right, cut the shit Brian.”
“Oh shit man, that girl just slapped that dude.” some random kid laughed.
Brian turned to face me, the left side of his cheek red and said, “Big mistake, lass.” and before I knew it, I felt the hot sting of his hand on my cheek as well.
“You hit like a bitch.” I screamed and we went at it.
The cops arrived a few moments later – the kid that had witnessed my initial hit told the cops that some dude was beating on a girl and then intervened to break up the fight.
Brian told the cops he didn’t have ID but I told them that he matched the description for the Missing Person Brian Kirken. After a short phone call, they confirmed my claim and let me go. I then called Mrs. Kirken to let her know her son was alive but if she wanted to see him she would have to go to the third precinct to see him. When I told her what happened, she informed me that several family members had seen him in Penn Station and he had done the same thing – put on some sorry ass accent and pretended to be someone else.
Brian got community service and a fine for disorderly conduct – if I had pressed charges he could have gotten assault and I figured Mrs. Kirken had been through enough.
“Strange.” my mother said after I told her what had happened.
“Seriously mom, what a fucking weirdo.” I laughed.
Things are strange but people…people are stranger.