Bob Rides Again!
I mentioned that I noticed Bob’s motorcycle parked at Jim’s the other day, after Ann kicked him out of the house.
Today Jim called me and told me about Bob’s visit. I think he waited long enough for me to call him and ask.
Bob told Jim he was dying of cancer. He also said he bought a house with 4 acres in Canton, Georgia. He said he and his son Joe are still living with his friend a few miles away, waiting on the loan to go through.
Then in the next breath Bob told Jim he was flat broke. Even his motorcycle gas tank was nearly empty and he didn’t have a penny to put in it.
Bob is a habitual braggart. Every time I have talked to him he had to brag something: about how much he is making an hour, or how much he paid for something expensive. Or some physical feat he accomplished by sheer determination. The only thing is a braggart and a liar should have a good memory. His hourly pay changed often, sometimes it was $37 per hour, other times $27.
So, it was in Bob’s instinct to brag about buying a house with 4 acres (although, he does not have the credit to buy a any kind of house or any kind of land). He does not even have enough credit to buy a car on credit. Bob is also a habitual liar.
And his pants are probably on fire.
This is not the first time he has played his cancer card. He and his family has used that card several times for guilt money and pity.
One Thanksgiving I was deep frying a turkey on the drive-way and Ann pulled her car down and told me Bob was having an operation to remove a cancerous tumor from his brain (on Thanksgiving Day) at a Medical Center in Augusta, for us to pray for him. I think the cancer card has worked to get pity money, just from what I have overheard.
Bob has also pulled out his heat stroke card several times and used – several times in prison and at least once in his own back yard.
The other day the cancer card worked. Jim gave his all the money he had in his wallet.
Oh by the way, Melissa said her dad (Bob) just bought her a nearly new Corvette to take to college this winter. Her last dream-come-true car her daddy presented her is in their driveway in about 4 or 5 pieces. Now, I am eager to see this Corvette.
Probably, some day in the distant future (hopefully) when I stand at the Pearly Gates Saint Peter will tell me to take the DOWN elevator because I talked about my neighbor. And then I see Bob on the other side of the fence enjoying himself and I say, “What About Bob?” (don’t tell me you haven’t heard that question before) and Saint Peter smiles and says, “Well, at least Bob had a life.”