Maybe I just look like the kind of guy that makes for an easy target. There must be something wrong with their eyes.

Even though I’m this ruggedly handsome, with a forbidding and dangerous look in my eyes, no one ever seems to notice it. It’s such a pain, honestly. No matter how dangerous I am, weapons are still scary. It’s not fun dealing with them. So I really wish people had an easier time perceiving my true strength, so this kind of thing would stop happening.

Those were the thoughts that went through my head as I carefully handed over my wallet to the filthy, unshaven man threatening me with a knife on the side of the road. This makes the third time I’ve been mugged this month.

I’ve been sleeping on park benches for the last few days because my money ran out.

That’s why I don’t have any cash in there. By the way, my credit cards were stolen a long time ago, so no need to call and cancel anything. My wallet is often empty for some reason. Even though I got that inheritance from my parents, its pretty much gone now.

Somehow, whenever I go out to eat with friends, I always end up paying. It’s amazing how many of them have a sick grandmother and desperately need loans. One friend needed me to donate a kidney once. Luckily my blood type matched. It must have been painful for her. I shouldn’t complain about my problems too much, some people have it worse than me.

It’s only a short term problem anyway. I’ve been corresponding with a Nigerian prince, who’s going to share some of his fortune with me as soon as I send him enough money to pay the lawyer. I’ll definitely have enough to buy that expensive medicine my friend’s grandmother needed. Truly, my karma must be good.

As I was feeling much better thinking about my blindingly glorious future, the unshaven man’s eyes bulged looking in my wallet.

“There’s nothing in here!”

I shrug.

“Shit!” he says, as if I had somehow taken something from him. He slashes at me with a knife, but he barely misses me as I fall out into the road to escape. I can move pretty fast when my life is in danger. It’s a special skill. One might even call it a superpower.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a large truck approaching. I acrobatically jump on to the median before getting flattened. Good job, me. I surely have excellent reflexes.

Unfortunately, my footing isn’t all that steady, and I fall down backwards.

My head hits a rock pretty hard.

“Ouch.” I mumble. That crunch didn’t sound good at all.

What a pathetic death this will be. I’m having trouble speaking now.

Will that really be my final word? Is that what it’ll say on my tombstone?

Jonathan Orville

1995 – 2015

“Ouch.”

I remember something my dad told me when I was young.

*****

“Son,” he said. “You’re not very bright.”

“Oh,” I said, confused. I waited for him to continue.

…

I waited a long time.

“Is that all you wanted to say, dad?!”

“That was the main point, yes.” he said flatly. Goddamnit dad.

“Well, because you’re not very bright, people will try to take advantage of you. If you show weakness, there will always be a person willing to take you for all you’re worth. So if friends ask you for money while offering nothing in return, they’re very likely just abusing your trust and your stupidity. If it’s a stranger, its basically a certainty that you’re getting scammed.”

“I don’t really get it dad.”

“I know you don’t, son.” Dad sighed. “I’ll simplify it for you. If anyone asks you for money, Kick them in the face. You’re at least moderately talented in that area. Even if you’re not nearly as good as me.”

“Okay dad!” I said. I wasn’t really listening though. As a kid I had trouble concentrating for more than 1 minute at a time.

“You gotta at least break a few bones,” he said, dead serious. Dad was proud of his status as a champion kickboxer, and most of his advice involved bone breaking. I know this because he would often give advice to me in this form. Maybe that’s why I couldn’t concentrate so well.

Mom made all the money, though, which probably made her a better source of life advice. I knew not to mention that in front of him from prior experience involving broken bones.

*****

Right, so I guess I’d forgotten his advice. I stopped kicking people in the face pretty early on after the police got involved. But I guess dad’s main point wasn’t the face kicking part. Having finally realized that, it must be true that the last moments of life bring you great clarity.

Dad always used to say that there’s nothing that can’t be solved with more effort. He would usually say this while roundhouse kicking someone in the face, though.

Yes, I have to think positively. Success is only a matter of effort and perspective.

Too bad I never got my money from that Nigerian prince. It was definitely on the way.