Brie Gainer

Everyday, I take a shortcut home on a beautiful little street lined with horse farms. It is intertwined with a creek and there are seven crossovers.

I was crying when I left work today, still upset at the thought of some shithead fingering my dad’s clothing at Goodwill. Dad was very particular about his clothes. He always wore knee socks and pressed pants, and leather shoes.

I’m not sure you could say I was praying, but on the drive home, I told Dad, the universe, whoever, that I needed a sign. What I really wanted was a txt from Dad.

Wouldn’t you know…

On the little, two-lane shortcut, traffic had come to a standstill as a man was having a meltdown in the southbound lane.

He walking right in the middle of the road and had three large dogs with him, without leashes or collars–a chocolate lab, a yellow lab, and a brown and white mix.

The man was about my age, had short hair, a thick beard, and was wearing no shirt or shoes, only cargo shorts. He was very muscular, with a six-pack and everything.

At first, I thought there might be a problem with the dogs. As I got closer, I saw that his belongings were strewn all over the road!

He flagged me down, and I expected him to ask me for money.

“Can I just have a hug?”

!!!!

Of course! I gave him a hug through my car window. He seemed clean, but, boy, did he stink.

I wonder if he saw that I was crying. Probably not.

He told me that the driver facing me (I was northbound) was calling the police.

I didn’t ask any questions, and our conversation was very brief. As I drove away, the man asked me if I was really needing to go somewhere important.

I said, “Yes, I have to go get my little girl.”

He must’ve been delirious or high or distraught. I don’t know what. He was very clear when he spoke, but I don’t think he heard me.

“You better think twice about that,” he said, pointing his finger at me. I drove slowly, and his voice raised. “Because you won’t be seeing me again!!”

I saw him approach the cars behind me, and saw the driver in the southbound lane tapping furiously on his device. A businessman in a fancy, white BMW convertible. With his thick blonde hair, he looked like a yuppie Ken doll.

I called David immediately. He was not pleased with the bearded man’s parting words. “How DARE he try to put his guilt on you!”

It was a weird little experience. I wonder if the universe is saying something to me, or if it is just one of those things.

As soon as I got home, I took a hot shower. I had been pleased with my hair today, being just a tad fluffy, and having to shampoo it again today kinda irked me, but I had to get that man’s B.O. off me!! Even Ilona said I was stinky!!

So, twenty minutes later, after my shower, Brent called.

He is driving in downtown Austin and he said he saw a man that looked just like Dad, maybe 10 years younger, wearing slacks and a button-down shirt with the top two buttons unbuttoned.

“He was walking a dog that looked like Charley.”

Good Lord, what next!