by Chris Wasil
Most people from my hometown have just one encounter with Douggie in their lifetime, but never more than one. They’ll see a fat, middle-aged retarded man, dressed in navy blue from head to toe, ride up to the little league field on his bicycle, and maybe they don’t walk away. He’ll yell hi at their faces, and they might awkwardly smile and say hi back, and if the conversation goes any further, chances are Douggie will offer to sing the theme to Green Acres for them, or pick his nose, or both. Then, around the same time his body odor hits their noses, he’ll probably reach his hand deep into the front of his sweatpants to scratch himself. He never, ever, picks up on their embarrassment, which they’ll always feel even though they’re not the ones violating every accepted rule of social grace. After that first experience, they know better than to stick around when Douggie rides up.
Chris Wasil, currently in his second semester of law school, is a die-hard Mets fan. His full catalog is here.