Member-only story
Average Joe
fiction
Yeah, that’s what people sometimes call me. “Average Joe.” I mean, Joe is my real name and I guess I’m average. What does that even mean, though, you know? Not that I actually mind it. It is kind of an affectionate name for somebody. I don’t know who first called me that. Maybe one of my teachers. Roll call in school, oh yeah, I remember, Mr. Badminton, yeah, that was his actual name! He taught History in high school and was also the Tennis coach. Now THAT was a joke. Tennis coach named Mr. Badminton. Go figger, right? Anyway, my name is not Joseph, it is actually just Joe. And he says,”Ok, like Average Joe.” All the kids laughed. In fairness I guess that’s me. I was never the best one, never the smartest; never the worst…. Although part of my problem was my Attention Deficit Disorder. But back then people just said I couldn’t pay attention and my folks couldn’t understand why I only got C’s. They thought I just didn’t try hard enough. Oh, but I really did try. I tried so hard but I just couldn’t pay attention and didn’t know why.
Driving home at night. Up ahead off to the side of the road looks like a car wreck. The left headlight is still on but pointing off the road. I slow down, put on my blinkers and pull over behind the car. The front end is smashed against a tree. A young girl is leaning against the trunk of the car. When I say young girl I mean like maybe 20 or 23, not 10. I get out…
