It all started when I was having lunch with the boys from work. The usual long Friday lunch at the pub; drinks and a good fry up. We're in the middle of a debate on the merits of Angelina Jolie movies, when he walked in the door.
I didn't think he recognised me. Well I'd hoped, more than anything. I've put on a bit of weight since we ran together, grown a beard, but I must still look enough like the stupid eighteen year old kid I used to be.
Davo swaggered over. Yeah, he actually swaggered, the bastard, always was full of himself. And he planted himself at the table, telling everyone he's an old mate of mine. He always was able to make himself at home, but I guess buying a round really did the trick. Suddenly he's everyone's best friend, so dragging me away from the safe, sane world I've built for myself is done with a laugh and the encouragement of my work mates.
And it's like we were kids again. Laughing and joking.
He eased back into his old ways. I figure now, that he was feeling me out, not wanting to spook me. But it still took me a while to twig that he must have been stalking me for weeks before he ran into me in the pub. He had my whole routine down pat. I didn't realise I had a routine until it tumbled out of the bastard's mouth.
Idiot that I am, I still didn't suspect he was on a blag. I guess I've been straight for so long that my reflexes are shot. But it wasn't until he cornered me with an ultimatum that I figured he'd played me from the start.
Thought Davo might have matured a little, but his scam was the same shit we did as kids. Except, I guess, we would be swiping more lucrative gear. He wants me to help him knock over work, break in, pinch a couple of cars and flog them to some of his dodgy mates. If I don't go along, he'll dob me in to Simpson. Spill all my youthful, and not so youthful, adventures on the other side of the law.
Do the job and lose my job. Or don't do it and lose my job. Either way I'm screwed.
But I know if I give in to him, he'll hold it over me forever. The same as he's doing now. He'll have his hooks into me and I'll never be free of this bullshit.
I'm not the same man I was when Davo knew me. I've changed. I have a job I'm proud of, people who rely on me. Simpson's a stand up guy. He doesn't deserve to get turned over, even if the insurance covers it like Davo claims, he can't afford the damage to his rep. And I reckon I owe him the truth.
I like my job. I've always been good with cars and it was great of Simpson to take me on with no trade papers. So, aside from being a good bloke in general, I feel I owe him for putting his trust in me. I don't want to let him down.
I've gotten used to being my own man, not getting pushed around and caught up in trouble like when I was a kid. Way I figure it, I started from scratch once, I can do it again. I'll front him tomorrow and let him know the kind of bloke he really hired.
30minutemuse — challenge #7: dear diary