An Offer I Couldn't Refuse

I swear on everything Holy
that I thought it was the end.
Something about the way
that black luxury sedan came
to a confident halt in the
middle of Main Street
in front of me as I sucked
the night's last cigarette
on my stoop
a little after one in the morning
sent images of mob-style
drive-by shootings
through my over-imaginative mind.
The windows were tinted
beyond the legal limit
preventing me from seeing
my assassin until he was good
and ready to unleash his sub machinegun.
Time froze while I waited to
be gunned down in an epic finale
to what was left of my laid-off life.

It caught me off-guard when the driver's door
opened and a man with black hair
greased straight back and a sweater vest
under his tux stepped out slowly.
At least I'd be murdered with class.
He opened the rear door of the Lincoln
in what I thought would be my final acquaintance.
I braced myself for the end. I wished I'd left
the combination to my safe with one of my buddies
from work. My welder friend would
torch it open, careful not to touch off
the powder. None of my collection would
be lost in the mix. I knew my mom could use
the money once everything was auctioned properly.
A peace came about me while I waited for the hail.
There wasn't a wish for a firing squad's blindfold.
I wondered if that was how Dostoyevsky felt
before the imperial pardon.

But in case you hadn't noticed
it was not my lucky day.
God still had a purpose for His
stubborn clown to breathe.
A small Asian woman in her late-twenties
stepped out of the back seat. The chaffeur
popped the trunk and handed her
her bags. My life unflashed before my eyes
as a new lease on it suddenly presented itself
in the form of my upstairs neighbor's
apparent return from the airport.

"Hey," I told her with a genuine smile
as she approached our apartment building.
"You got me good with that one."
She looked at me, puzzled, until I
explained that I used to live
directly on the other side of the bridge.
"I'm scared to go to Newburgh," she said
clutching her bags more tightly.
I opened the front door and said Goodnight
before burning one more to celebrate.
It's the little things in life
like not being riddled with bullets.