“Her master had revealed no hint of such unwelcome knowledge.”

-7, Death in the Dark, page 114

…

A Joe Story

So we were at a party in a town called Manhattan, a lot of farms and rural areas. I think it was after high school, a graduation party for someone. We were in the upper loft of the barn and it had the big open doors for hay bales and a mast with a hoist and a rope attached to it. Joe was standing at the edge pissing off the edge and my friend Mike comes up and boots him right in the ass while he’s pissing. Joe grabs a hold of the rope with both hands and was swinging around and yelled and everyone turned around to look at him and he was swinging around holding onto the rope with his dick out.

Mike?

Mike was the guy who influenced me to take the automated systems technology at the Junior College. We went to the gym together a lot and his older brother, Rick worked out at the same gym. The big gym in town closed and my Taekwondo guy bought the gym and put the weight equipment in the basement. Some of the equipment was homemade. His right hand man would weld pieces for the gym, which was really cool. I started going to the gym and put the Taekwondo aside and was going to the gym and trying to put on some muscle. I worked with Mike at Brown’s Chicken. There’s this beach, a private beach in this town called Ottawa. It was much nicer than Lake Michigan—no Negroid troubles. We would go with everyone from the gym and play football, and volleyball and cookout; a very cool group of people. I was the youngest dude by far, because I knew Mike and Rick. I was always jealous of Mike because he had naturally huge arms.

Joe’s Trajectory

He always had trouble holding a job. He was a Brown’s Chicken guy. Brown’s Chicken is where I met my wife. I don’t remember the circumstances of him leaving. He left and got a full time job painting. He would have trouble getting the paint off that infiltrated the suit and googles that they wore. He was an ambulance driver for a while and he ran over a fireman’s leg and lost that job. He was driving a gravel truck for a while for road construction. He did that for quite a while. I ran into him when I was well into my career as an electrician. We were on a job, and he came walking in, working for an office delivery company. That was before the rape.

[Dan refuses to comment any further. The writer gets the impression that Joe was not raped, but that an associate of his was. This four-letter event and the resulting infamy did cut down on Joe’s social contacts.]

The last contact I had, I was talking to his mom and she said he was working in a warehouse distribution center somewhere.

Joe had had a reputation as a fighter based on a fight. He was at a party and a feared high school wrestler, who may or may not have been a state champion, was there. Him and Joe were getting into a fight. Joe just knew he was going to shoot on him. So Joe was ready and kneed him in the face and knocked him out cold. Joe was a year older than me. The word got around. A lot of people knew about that, people there at the party telling other people what happened.

I liked the younger Joe. I don’t really know what happened to the older Joe.

Joe’s Brother

Bernie was his name. He was probably six years older than us. He practiced Aikido. It was amazing how easily he could lock you up or throw you and not hurt you. He joined the Marines out of high school. After the Marines he was accepted and got into the Secret Service. I don’t know how long that lasted or if he completed the training. He did not stick around. From there he went to ESI the Executive Security International bodyguard school in Arizona. It was pretty famous in martial arts magazines.

From there he went to Las Vegas and worked as a limo driver for clients that wanted protection, not just driven around. During that time period he went to California for something and got into a gang fight, by, himself. I think they were four people, I think Hispanic, and one guy was swinging around a chain. When he swung the chain at Bernie he threw up his left arm and blocked it and it broke his wrist. Then, he proceeded to beat up four guys. I know the cops and ambulances were called. It went to court and Bernie was ordered to pay the medical expenses of the quote “victims.” He said, fuck that and skipped town and said he would never go back to California.

He was probably 5’ 8” and maybe 165 pounds and medium build. You wouldn’t think of him as a tough guy. He had a mustache and tattoos. I went with him and some guys that were getting tattoos and the tattoo artist said, “Uh oh, here comes Robocop,” and this guy comes walking in with a neck halo for a broken neck and the guy comes in and sees me laughing and he comes over and starts yelling at me, wanting to fight and he’s saying, “You think this is funny!”

Yes, I did think it was funny. He was starting with me and yelling at me and all I could think of was I was going to grab that head cage with both hands and start shaking it.

I would have never thought of that [without describing Bernie’s appearance.]

His mom told me he was working for some company that traveled oversees, in China, doing what I have no idea.

There are 12 more chapters to write in Electric Dan’s memoir. Further posting will resume in 2025 after another visit, Uncle Sham willing.

-Selek, Washington, June 26 2024