A Recent Encounter at an area Walgreen's as I was looking for Shoelaces

Roughed Up Looking Fellow (approaches your's truly): I went to school with you.

Me (startled by this unexpected announcement AND his face-as-speed-bag appearance): Hunh? (peering at gentleman...no recognition...could be due to his minor facial injuries) What school?

RULF: C___.

Me (still nothing coming up on my mental rolodex): What year?

RULF: 87.

Me: Hmm. I was 88.

RULF: Name's L____ (last name censored to protect the innocent and my future well-being...but it's a type of gun).

Me: Hmm. I'm more of a baretta man, myself.

RULF: That's my last name.

Me (I knew that and having always disliked this guy back in the day feigned ignorance in homage to his own innate ignorance...a kind of flattery-meets-slander all wrapped up in one lil' neat package): Tony.

RULF: Ultimate Fighting.

Me (realizing that he thinks that I'm staring at his obvious facial injuries AND chipped-in-half-sideways front tooth...which I was...hell, you could even say I was Marvelling at it...so he was identifying WHERE they came from and not, say, a rough encounter with a rogue rake or having been on the receiving end of a riled up, boxing glove wearing kangaroo): Ah. Wow. Neat.

RULF: Thanks. Catch ya later (departs store).

Me (internally): Whew.


T
(oh...and I overheard his exchange with a store clerk, too. He was looking to buy some butane for some reason but I--if given the chance--would have recommended that he instead maybe grab some bactine and other assorted healing balms...but who am I to tell Welt-Boy what he should spend his hard-earned ching on? Certainly I'm not the Mickey to his Rockey Balboa. I'd have thrown the towel in sooner)