I don’t know why I let him think he’s my friend. He’s a loud, ingratiating know it all who makes it his business to butt into everybody else’s.
A man sees me sittin’ in a coffee shop, walks in and says, “I was jammin’ w/ Hans. He says you and he go way back.”
And Mr. Know It All says, “Tell him I said, ‘Hello.'”
Then, when he looks over my shoulder and sees I’m texting someone he has met one time, months ago, he says, “Pass on I’m thinking about her.”
Now, he’s all over my FaceBook Home Page w/ photos and text documenting his adventures as the lesser half of a musical duo. The better half is a woman most folks I know say is talented and I’m gonna respect their opinion.
The man who thinks he’s my friend is a so so musician at best though he’ll tell you different. And he’ll tell you different. Every chance he gets.
I don’t know why this bugs me. I mean, he’s not the first guy I ever met who had an inflated sense of self. Hell, I’ve run into 3 of them today. I’m usually polite and often encourage them to keep blowing their own horn. But, this guy, the guy who thinks I’m his friend, I’m gettin’ tired of his honkin’. He bugs me. And I don’t know why.
Maybe it’s coz his “all talk” has convinced some he is more than a pretender. Those “some” have said to me, “Isn’t he somethin’. He sure can play. How’s he do that?”
Maybe it’s coz those “some” are always askin’ me about the guy. The guy who thinks I’m his friend, who has convinced others I’m his friend and, since they think I’m his friend, think I know all about him. They think I know his secret to “how” he does “that” thing he does musically.
And, maybe he bugs me coz I’d like to say, “his musical gift is small but the stockings hung by the chimney and every micro-inch underneath the tree is filled w/ his amazing capacity for bull-shit.” Yeah, he bugs me coz he’s touted his genius for so long and loud he’s convinced a bunch of folks, even people who should know better. And, maybe those “folks” are right to tell me to “get over it” when I say, “You want to know how he does it? Ask him.”
And, maybe I should “get over it.” Maybe I should. But I haven’t gotten over it yet. And, maybe I never will. Maybe he will always bug me like he bugs me now…like he bugs me now.
He bugs me.