At a
closing hotel bar, I was talking with the (white) (male) bartender and somehow
we got on the subject of people from 2nd and 3rd world
countries who are in the States because of kidnapping threats.
“My one
friend disappeared,” he was like, and told me about this dude who was half
hispanic and half Syrian and said his parents were in oil. “But he
did a lot of cocaine and was getting paranoid, then one day an email bounced
back and I called and his number was disconnected.”
He said
that the guy used to say that people were watching him, and they would come into his
apartment and move shit around when he wasn’t there.
Also, he
would say that the people who lived across the alley from him were Satanists, and they were the ones responsible for
throwing dead rats into his yard.
“So did
you ever find out what happened to him?”, I was like. “Did your other friends know anything?”.
“I only
knew him through people and the other people drifted off and never knew him so
well, so, no,” the bartender was like.
“And we weren’t that close. But, I feel kind of bad, I just have no idea what happened to him.”
“That’s
too bad,” I was like. “Both for what
happened with him, and because people like that make life interesting.”
“I
know,” the bartender was like. "I miss him."
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