Rusty and the Con Man

The story of Rusty and the con man.

My father was a con artist.  A salesman mentality and a mind of a person from the carnival of life.  The following will indicate that concept.

I was eleven and lived with my dad after the divorce.  It was not that pleasant for he was focused on business.  I was left to fend for myself.

My father figured a young boy needs a dog and therefore Rusty was added to the mix.  Rusty was a mutt and named because he was red.

One day I found Rusty eating a bone outside of the house. I was only eleven and pretty unknowing of quite a lot of things.  I thought to take the bone away because Rusty could get it caught in his throat.  Dumb?

Rusty rewarded me for such foolishness.  He bite me on the hand and I bleed like a stuffed pig.  I went to the door of the house and yelled for my dad.  He came to the door and analyzed the situation.

“Do not come for you will get blood on the carpet.”

Since we rented that was an important idea for my dad.

He got a towel and wrapped my hand up.  He had me apply pressure to the area as he drove to the hospital.

On the way he told me his devious plan.  We had no health insurance.

Therefore I was to get out of the car and walk towards the front of the hospital.  I was to go to the grass area and pretend to trip near the sprinkler system.  Then scream and yell until someone came out.  My dad would go back to the house and await their call, telling them of the accident.

A plan, devious and a lie.  But that was the plan my dad devised.  And it worked.  We never got a bill from the hospital.  I think they were afraid we would sue them.

My dad was a trip.  A trip to a convoluted mind.  Welcome to the world of Wax.


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