\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1347622-How-I-Met-Sherman
Item Icon
by Arthur Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Draft · Experience · #1347622
This is a continuation due to popular request to item # 1344805
I don't know how many of you readers have used or listened to a c.b.(citizens band radio for those not familiar with the term c.b.), but that is how my friendship with Sherman started.

The year was 1985 and I had been employed at the Refuse Fuels Power Plant for about a year. I worked the night shift from 6PM to 6AM three days a week, along with one half day from 6PM to 12AM on Wednesdays and every other weekend. If I remember correctly it was in June that I was able to get a base antenna and power supply converter for the c.b. that I always had in my car, so that on my days off I could use it in my apartment.

Towards the end of June I'd sit in my lounge chair in my living room and chat with friends over the c.b. For about a week since I had set this up this guy would come on the c.b., usually at 1AM or so and start interrupting conversations between my friends and I, complaining about his ex, his dog, his car and whatever else was bugging him. Most of the time we tried to ignore him, but he had installed an illegal booster on his radio and would talk over us.

At that point I told my friends that I would track this guy down and confront him. They all told me he was just a nut case and that we could talk when he wasn't on, but I was stubborn and pissed off at this guy so I figured that next time he came on, I would ask him what his problem was and why he felt he could interfere with other peoples conversations by doing what he was doing.

The following Wednesday I made sure I got to the package store and bought two cases of Budweiser before I went to work, so that I would have plenty of beer in the fridge when I got home from work. I was going to put my plan to confront this person into effect. JoAnna knew what I was going to do so she asked me to take her to her parents house for the night, because she thought I was going to get arrested or something. I drove her to Tewksbury, Mass. that afternoon after making sure that it was okay with her parents and proceeded to work from there.

The night at work was cut short as we blew a tube in the boiler and had to shut down. Once things were squared away there my boss let most of us go home early, as we would have to report for work, whether it was our day off or not, the following day. This was usually the case whenever we blew a tube, because we had to make sure that we could get the boiler repaired and running in the shortest time possible.

Arriving home to an empty apartment at 10:30PM I cooked my dinner and had a couple of beers. Sitting in my lounge chair, t.v. tray in front of me, so that I'd have place to set my plate and beer, I turned on my stereo (so that I could listen to music) and then turned on my c.b.

It didn't take long as I was half way through my dinner, before I heard that now familiar voice come over the airwaves.

" This is the Yankee Rebel ( my cb handle) asking who is this stepping on this frequency ( overriding all other people on same frequency) ?"

" This is the Texas Cowboy" came the reply.

" Well what I'd like to do is meet you in person if you don't mind giving me your ten-twenty.( location)."

" Do you care if I bring some beer over?" I asked once he gave me his address.
" No, I don't mind." he said.

" Can I get your real name so I know how to greet you when I knock on your door," I asked after telling him my name.

" Sherman." was the reply I got.

With that I told him I would be there in five minutes.

I carried a case of Bud down three flights of stairs, locked it in the trunk and proceeded to the address he had given me. As I pulled up in front he stepped out the door.

" Are you Arthur?" he asked as I walked to the back of my car to open the trunk.

" Yes, but you know me better as the Yankee Rebel." I replied.

I should pause here to give you, the readers, a physical description.
When I first saw him I thought Man this guy could snap me in half like a twig if he wanted to.
Sherman was about 6'4" tall, 180 lbs., strawberry blonde hair, blue eyes that sometimes turned grey, depending on the light that you saw them by, broad shoulders, narrow waist despite his weight, and legs like the trunk of an oak tree.
I saw all this as he was wearing a pair of bermuda shorts, tank top and sandals.

On entering his apartment I figured he must having been doing well for himself as he lived in a one bedroom apartment that was a converted store-front. If he opened his blinds and was standing in front of the window he had a great view of the street and could see in an arc of about 240 degrees. I thought to myself that if I lived there and I was a bachelor, I would almost be tempted to open a small cafe. The only room that would be off limits would be the bedroom. The oak panelled walls extended from the front room to the kitchen. This was the only part I saw that night, except for the bathroom . In the far corner of the front room stood an antique roll top upon which sat his c.b.

After putting the case in the fridge, he offered me a tumbler of scotch ( which I learned was his favorite drink) to go along with the beer I had brought over, he invited me to sit in his favorite recliner.

" What's all this about?" he asked.

" What do you mean what's this about, you step all over people with an illegal booster and you have the nerve to ask me what this is about."

" You know I could break you like a twig, but I was curious about the person who had the nerve to actually confront me."

" Yeah you could probably try, but you would get seriously hurt in the process." I replied.

We continued in this vain for about ten minutes while sipping the scotch and drinking the beer, often repeating questions and answers.

Suddenly he got up and went to his bedroom door.

He then informed me that he was going to let his dog out and if the dog liked me we could be friends. I sat there thinking that if he relies on his dog to tell him who his friends are then my friends might be right, he was a fruit cake.

I've always had an affinity for animals and as he let Teacup out ( that was the name of his lapso apso), the dog jumped into my lap and stayed there. I guess that decided it for Sherm cause he told me he'd never seen his dog do that before.

Ever since that night Sherm and I had been friends 'til the day he died.




© Copyright 2007 Arthur (arg62 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1347622-How-I-Met-Sherman