Fry Cook Fred smokes meth, weed, and tobacco–he commutes from the wasteland just outside of Portland via bus, and a BMX bike that only adds to his craziness. This 44 year old’s clothes are twice his size, and resemble his teeth: they’re falling apart. Fred normally looks like he’d rather kill you than talk to you, but today it was worse, he looked violent, and confused. I said, “Hey Fred, you don’t look so happy.” He stopped, and I continued, “You alright?” As he came closer I saw more than the usual pock marks on his face. It looked like someone fucked him up a little–half a black eye, scratches. “Fred, you OK?” Fred got five inches from my face and broke down the situation for me.
“So, fuckin’, you know I got married last year, right?”
“Yeah, I remember that.” I said.
“Well, so fuckin’, turns out, she’s fuckin’ cheating on me!”
“Fuckin’, yeah, fuckin’ not even a year, right, and the bitch is already cheating on me!”
“Christ man, I’m sorry.”
“Oh, it’s fuckin’ better, buddy. I caught the guy!”
“What?” I asked. Fred poised himself to show me what happened.
He said, “Fuckin’ found the two when I got home,” Fred’s sweating now. “And at first I was so mad, right, fuckin’, I didn’t know what to do. So I stormed outside, and she came running out, ‘No stop, wait.’ and I’m like, get that fuckin’ asshole out of the house or I’m gonna kill him! Then he fuckin’ comes out, right, and says, ‘What the fuck are you doing? Right? This fuckin’ guy! And he won’t shut up!” Then Fred got right in my face. “Listen, motherfucker! I’m going to kill you! Do you understand what I’m saying? Then this fuckin’ guy’s like, ‘you’ll go to prison if you kill me.’ And I start laughing, fuckin’, do you think I give one fuck about prison? Right, so I fuckin’ go up to this guy, and start punching his face. Then fuckin’, my wife she…o.k. we end up on the floor, right, and she starts, fuckin’, kickin’ me in the face and shit! I’m fuckin’ punching this guy in the face. Finally she was like, ‘I’m calling the cops!’ Call the cops, bitch. That motherfucker got his ass up, an ran the fuck away!”
He lived out the whole fight a foot from my face, I was speechless, but I squeaked out, “Shit man, that’s pretty rough.”
He turned to me as he walked away, and said, “Luckiest motherfucker on Earth.”