Mo the Meanie

 How do I do what I do? 
 
Pretty simple. 

I was groomed. 


Predators see each other when no one else does. 
And human beings are the apex predators in their little biosphere. 

By all rights I should have been one of those ass holes. 
One of those guys that would seek out someone with a private island and...well.  
As these files are released and coalited. 
Studied and broken down.  
You see the type of people that visit private islands. 

But. 

They couldn't break me. 
Couldn't get me to see the world through their corrupted lens. 

Let's talk about the tiger at the zoo rq before I snap my keyboard getting to lost in the past.
I think I still have a couple keyboards left. 
But still. 


When I was in DC I went to the zoo. 
Wandered around, checking out the critters, trying to avoid crowds.  
Then I found myself in a fairly large crowd everyone kind of "Oooing" and "awwing" over something just around the corner. 

Curious.

It was a tiger.  
Massive. 
Commanding. 
Sunning on a rock. 
Watching the crowd with lazy eyes. 
I moved through the crowd slowly.  
My eyes locked on the giant cat. 
I moved carefully. 
Didn't touch anyone. 
Get too close. 
Just moved through the crowd like walking through grass. 
The tigers eyes widened slightly. 
They saw me. 
They followed me. 
And when I worked my way to the other side of the crowd the tiger rose. 
Stretched. 
Yawned
And settled back down on it's haunches facing directly towards me. 
I chuckled and slipped around the corner. 
A low rumble followed me. 

That's why. 
Because like that tiger I see the predators in the crowds. 

They often see me. 
Thinking I'm another tiger.  

Tigers, by and large, are lone hunters. 

But I'm not a tiger. 
I'm a Lion.  
With a big mane. 

What's the difference you ask. 
The Lion does the same thing when it sees another Predator. 
Difference is. 
The pride takes notice. 
The lionesses start to stretch. 
Ready to hunt. 

And that's why they never see "me" coming. 
Because it's not my eyes they should be watching.  


I only say this because there's ice on the roads in Kansas. 
Home of the Jay Hawks. 
Don't know who they are?  
Ask John Brown. 

Back to the point. 

I was left in the pit with tigers. 
And I got out. 
And now. 
I hunt them. 
I find them. 
I identify them. 

All for the love of the game. 
And the kids I don't want having to go through what I did. 

"Retard rage?" right.  
That's what they call it. 

I don't get mad anymore. 
Sad sometimes. 
Bit excited. 
But not mad. 
It scares me to be honest. 
The calm. 
The stillness of mind and body when the instincts take over. 
The only thing....

Did I mention I went to Disney World? 

First time I was there was waiting in line for Whinnie the Pooh. 
Didn't matter how childish the ride was it was something I'd never seen before and the craftsmanship of the place unparalleled in a lot of ways. 
But then I saw an angry man. 
Mad at a child. 
He hurt the child. 
My hands went to the bars, my legs coiled to spring.  
To send my whole weight flying into a man twice my size. 
I'm not very big. 
5'9" without shoes. 

But a soft hand I trusted touched my shoulder. 
Quietly said "please don't" 
The family was shuffled ahead in line and quickly let onto the ride. 
The man thinking he had won some victory. 
Not realizing that those two people had probably just saved his life. 
The one he was berating and the one he never saw.

That's why I'm good at what I do. 
Because I see the Predators when they're stalking. 
See how other critters around them respond. 
See the kids that are like I was. 
Or worse.
The ones that are broken. 
Thinking that it's the only life they'll ever know. 

You're welcome to go through my dating history. 
Ask whatever questions of whomever you want. 
Don't disrespect them though. 
Don't make that mistake. 
All of them are smarter than me, kinder than me, and wiser than me. 
You should be far more scared of them than I. 
You won't see them coming if they take it into their mind to catch you. 

Returning to the present.  
I see the photos that are released. 
Surface level innocuous. 
Poorly decorated spaces with overly expensive scenery. 
Jokes are made about them looking like 2 star Air Bnbs. 
"For someone with so much money and rich clientele everything looks so cheap." 

White carpets. 
Barren furniture. 
Nothing that speaks of comfort. 

White to show blood. 
Disposable carpets. 
Disposable furniture. 

I damn near flipped my desk. 

"No bull dogging here" 
I was warned when I got to Oregon.
"Why?" I thought. 
Then I started looking around.

Dead Indian Memorial road?
A black woman surprised at my easy smile and kind eyes directed toward them coming into the library. 
An older Jewish woman always with something to kvetch about asking if I could poke my head out of the sorting room. 
A letter from the school saying that Klan was restless in my neighborhood. 

Don't bark.
Don't growl.
Don't bite. 
Got it. 

All right kids. 
Gather round. 
It's story time.


SISU