“Seat open?” I asked the guy sitting next to an empty stool at this small town’s local hangout.
“Yup! You’re welcome to it!” he, smiling.
“Thanks!” I, politely.
Placing a napkin and a bowl of peanuts in front of me, the bartender asked what I’d like.
“Whatever you’ve got on tap is fine, thanks,” I, with a smile.
Extending his hand out to me, the guy to my left said cordially, “I’m Joe!” expecting a name in return.
I don’t use my real name when on the clock, and I was on the clock tonight, so I just used my brother’s name.
“Bill!” I, while shaking his hand.
His grip wasn’t as firm as I thought a man of his height, 6’2 or 6’3, would put out. It’s not always
a hundred percent accurate, but a good solid handshake says something about a man, and his made me wonder.
“Well, here’s to good conversation!” Joe, holding up his drink and clicking it against my newly arrived beer.
“To good conversation!” I, with my glass raised.
“So, what do you do, Bill, if you don’t mind my asking?” he asked.
Well, right to the point, I thought, making this situation more interesting. “Oh, well, I’m a hitman, Joe!” I, calmly.
Almost choking on his sip, he turned around and laughing, he said, “That’s funny! Come on, what do you really do?” he, confused.
“I’m a hitman!” I repeated.
He cocked his head back, unsure if I’m still joking or if I could be serious. “Like kill people?” he, with a puzzled face.
“No, I hit people!” I, again, calmly.
Laughing, he asked, “Like with bullets, or a bat!?”
“No, I just hit them with my open palm or my fist,” I, matter-of-factly not looking at him.
“What!?” he exclaimed.
“Yeah, I don’t kill people, I just hit them, well, slap them,” I, looking directly into his eyes.
“What kind of job is that, just hitting people?” he asked.
“You’d be surprised at how much this service is needed,” I answered.
“You’ve got to be kidding! Just hitting?” he added.
I went on: “Well, for example, a woman whose boyfriend or husband is passive-aggressive and makes their life miserable and would like
to have the jerk slapped around, without serious harm. Or an office worker is abused verbally by a boss or co-worker who makes his or her working day unbearable.
And, again, they just want them slapped around a bit and maybe see them with a black eye, or extremely red-faced the next day, all day in the office,
after I’ve rendered my service. That kind of stuff.”
“So, what, you just go up to them and ‘hit’ them?” he, using air quotes around “hit.”
“Well, yes, and no,” I answered, “I try to get a feel for the target, if possible.”
“Get a feel? Does that make a difference?” he enquired.
I continued: “Well, not always, but sometimes I’m able to see why the individual was targeted. Helps me feel a bit better about why I’m doing what I do!
Do you mind if I ask you a question?”
“Please do!” he responded.
“Okay, there’s this woman at work, who, no matter how patient I am with her, during the most mundane discussions has to always have that last word,
and if that weren’t enough, has to make any male involved feel like he’s some kind of chauvinist asshole. Sometimes I just feel like…..ahhh,
well, anyway I don’t want to get all pissed off right now.” I explained.
But before I could ask the question, he jumped in with: “Oh, man do I know her type. I deal with these bitches all the time in our office,
and there is this one in particular, a mousy type, you know the kind who probably never gets laid, but can act all bossy within a work environment.
If I confronted her, I’d probably get fired so what I do, and I hate to admit this, is keep sending anonymous emails to all the people we work with
spreading all kinds of rumors about her. And boy does that piss her off. I’m sure she has no idea who’s doing this. What other options
do we men have left, honestly?”
As I was about to respond he suddenly said: “Uninteresting, this conversation was not!” adding “but it’s time for me to slither out of here!” offering a last toast.
“Yeah, me too!” I answered.
I waited till he paid his bill and headed for the door before I quickly did the same and followed close behind him. Of course, by now, I was sure.
I also had the right guy, matching the pic sent by my client. As he walked out of the bar and the door closed behind him, I opened it,
and just as he was heading for his car, I said, “Hey Joe! Sorry, buddy, but someone thinks you’re a big pain in the ass!” and slapped him
with my right palm and again with its back on the other cheek.
Now I have to mention that I’ve got forearms as big, if not bigger, than Popeye’s and regularly bench press 260lbs. This was going to show,
for sure, I thought, which is always good. I immediately took on a defensive position, expecting something back but was a bit surprised by his reaction,
then pulled out my phone and snapped the pic with flash needed for payment.
“What the fuck, man!?” is all he mustered; no fist, or lunge, nor anything else. He just held his one hand to his cheek, as if to relieve the heat he must be feeling
on both sides. “Who hired you, asshole?” he shouted after me as I calmly walked away, heading to my truck parked in the dark alley.
I’m always expecting a serious confrontation, involving a knife or even a gun, but so far there’s only been a few fist fights and 2 knives being pulled,
but so far so good, considering this was now my 18th “hit”. I guessed they must’ve all been legit targets in that most probably felt they somehow deserved it.
Out of his sight, I climbed into my truck and texted both the pic and the message “Done!” Within two minutes or so, I got two chimes:
one, a smiling emoji from the client, and the other from my bank messaging that $1750.00 had been deposited into my account.
I’m not greedy, keeping my fee, plus any mileage to cover gas, reasonable and just barely affordable, and yet worth all the trouble
and possible complications of an all-out fight, something I’ve been fortunate enough to have mostly avoided.
I started my engine and drove off with no lights till I hit the main street. Once on the highway out of this town, I logged on to an app
connecting me straight to the dark web and began scrolling through the 6 new requests, all within a three-state radius…
