My Crooked Nose

I earned my crooked nose. It took me a long time to learn what to do to keep from getting punched in the nose. It was mostly all about keeping my mouth shut at the right time.

Back in the mid 70s we were doing a project on the east side of Houston. At I-10 and Federal Rd. to be exact. The job keep me later than usual so well after dark I found myself standing at a pay phone outside of Jim’s Coffee Shop on Federal Road, probably letting Madeline know to not wait dinner on me.

At the adjoining pay phone was a fellow that obviously had too much to drink. You could tell he was talking to his girlfriend or wife. He said “baby did you know I’m standing here next to the ugliest SOB I’ve even seen with a big ole crooked nose“.

I soon ended my phone call gave him a present to take home with him. Yes, a big ole crooked nose of his own. He was standing there and then with one swift punch in his nose, he was sliding down the wall in slow motion. Like you see in a cartoon.

When I drove away he was sitting there with a goofy look on his face and blood pouring out of his nose.

I’m sure glad those days are over. Or I hope they are.

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