A kid who worked for me when I was a warehouse foreman for a sawmill and hardwood staircase parts manufacturer back home in Tuscaloosa, Jamey, was a good guy, just an ideal employee. And he was pretty sharp for the most part, but boy oh boy was he gullible. Good-natured about it though, which really freed me up; I don’t play around with people I think might break.
I’d not really pranked him so much as just passed along creative trivia – little stuff, like telling him the Johnny Cash song “Ring of Fire” is about gonorrhea, that kind thing – when a beautiful shot opened up for me on the Friday morning he came to work limping. I asked what happened, and if he needed me to pick up any of his slack while while he was on the mend. He said no, it was just athlete’s foot. He said he’d tried two of the big-name medications, but they didn’t do anything for him. Now, the boy’s in pain, he’s got a legitimate medical issue, and I’m his boss. I had the good sense to know it wouldn’t be right for me to play with the situation.
Took me all of maybe five seconds to overcome that. “Yeah man, that’s good stuff,” I tell him, “but you gotta use a bucket of it. There’s another ointment that has stronger medication and like 10 times more of it. I know this is gonna sound silly, but if you think about it, it’s really the same principle; you need to go get you some Vagisil”. He was clearly skeptical, but I didn’t pursue it. I know when I’ve gone too ridiculous, and I’ll just let it go.
But he pops his head into my office Monday morning to thank me for the heads up about the Vagisil. “VA-gisil?” I say, having completely forgotten about it. “Ohhh yeah yeah yeah. You TRIED that?” He said yeah, Friday night, and his foot felt better Saturday morning. Well glory hallelujah. I dunno if the first stuff finally kicked in or the fungus just went away on its own, but I’m like a god to this kid now. He thinks I’ve healed his hoof. He’ll never question my wisdom again.
He comes back a minute later to say hey, Randy thanks you too. “Randy?” Yeah. “Your brother Randy?” Yeah. “Your brother who’s a trainer at the University, Randy?” Yeah. “Why does brother Randy thank me?”. Well hell, man, because that stuff worked overNIGHT; that’s a secret weapon to a trainer.
Dear Lord, I know I’ve been bad. Right up to just a minute ago when I called myself a god. I repent, I truly and openly do. But this can’t happen. Word of it WILL get out, and it traces directly back to me. I live in Tuscaloosa Alabama, Lord. I know You’re familiar with the area, You’ve got that bass boat out on Lake Lurleen. When it hits the paper that the University of Alabama Crimson Tide puts Vagisil on their feet because I told them to, I’m a dead man. Won’t be enough of me left to pour into the ground”.
If you don’t know Tuscaloosa or the Tide, friends, and neighbors, there’s no way for me to adequately explain to you what my imagination did to me that morning. Fortunately, it was just a retaliatory prank. MOST of it was true; Jamey DID buy that stuff, he DID put it on his foot that night, and his foot DID feel better by the next morning. And he DID call his brother – who WAS a trainer at the University – to tell him about the miracle cure. But that’s where it died. The crucial part, the part that woulda got me killed, the two of them cooked that part up as revenge. And I had it comin’ to me. He let me off the hook a lot sooner than a lot of people would. He let me know at lunchtime.
If you don’t know Tuscaloosa or the Tide, friends, and neighbors, there’s no way for me to adequately explain to you what my imagination did to me that morning. Fortunately, it was just a retaliatory prank. MOST of it was true; Jamey DID buy that stuff, he DID put it on his foot that night, and his foot DID feel better by the next morning. And he DID call his brother – who WAS a trainer at the University – to tell him about the miracle cure. But that’s where it died. The crucial part, the part that woulda got me killed, the two of them cooked that part up as revenge. And I had it comin’ to me. He let me off the hook a lot sooner than a lot of people would. He let me know at lunchtime.
______________________________
This first appeared in The Havok Journal on June 17, 2020.
Bama has been a rodeo cowboy, a professional stuntman, and, for 38 years and counting, a bouncer at various biker bars and redneck rat cage juke joints through the Deep South. He makes cool stuff as Crimson Tied Paragear, using knots his Army Ranger Scoutmaster taught him at Boy Scout summer camp deep in the Okinawan boonies back in 1972.
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