Florida Man by Mike Baron

As many of you know, I’m working on a FLORIDA MAN novel. Gary is in jail for trying to beat a restaurant bill by dumping a life nutria on the table. For those who do not know what is a nutria, it’s an invasive water rat.

Gary tried to sleep on the floor against the wall, Earl sitting next to him, when the deputies brought in some hepped up board punks who’d been caught spraying swastikas on the local synagogue.

Gary slept fitfully, wakened numerous times by beefs, splats, squeals, raps and smacks.

He woke at one am to the dulcet tones of an aspiring rapper.

“My dong is long. My shlong is strong. Let it feed like an eagle eating an eagle in the weed.”

Groaning, Gary saw the hip-hop artist, a gawky black kid in chinos and an artfully ripped Tupac muscle shirt.

“That don’t even make sense!” a man bellowed from a bench.

“You want to test me, broheem?” the rapper said. “Step right up. I ain’t what I seem.”

To these dulcet tones and others, Gray drifted off to sleep.

Someone shook him by the shoulder. He woke with a start to find a young man wearing a rough blue cotton Armani suit, a blazing white shirt with the collar outside the suit jacket, and black Brunos, reeking of Paco Rabanne. He had a fashionable three day stubble on his handsome chin, and rich black hair.

“Mr. Duba?” he said. “Mr. Duba?”

Gary sat up and looked around. Where was Earl?

The man seemed comfortable on his haunches. “I’m Sid Saidso. I’m a programming executive with Netflix. I’ve been following your exploits and I’d like to talk to you about possibly doing your own reality show.”

Gary sat up, rubbing his eyes. “My exploits?”

Sid Saidso’s smile was like a thousand watt bulb. “Since the lottery! I’m executive producer on What’s Your Snoblem, which is in its second season, and Barfalo, which debuts in November and stars Bruce Willis and Brie Larson.”

Barfalo?”

“A bulimic buffalo terrorizes settlers in eighteen eighties Nebraska. But never mind about that. I believe in deep preparation. I’m not a drive-by guy. I know how you won the lottery. I know about the alligator in the pool. You were on that plane that exploded. They said it was filled with scorpions.”

“Tarantulas,” Gary said.

“Exactly. You’re a fascinating dude. Your wife is even more famous. Sponsors would pay plenty to feature your exploits. It won’t be cheap. It won’t be exploitative. I respect what you do.”

Gary scratched his head. “What do I do?”

“That’s what we’ll find out.”

Sid Saidso dipped in his jacket and extended a blinding white card between his exquisitely manicured first and second fingers. Gary took it. It showed the black silhouette of Charlie Chaplin dancing with his umbrella, and said,

SID SAIDSO

SAIDSO PRODUCTIONS

LOS ANGELES AND ROME

There was a website, an email address and two international phone numbers. Gary tucked it in his front pocket.

“What are you doing in here?”

“I heard you were in here and slugged the first cop I could find.”

Gary regarded Sid Saidso. “Dubious.”

Saidso grinned. “Kidding! They said I was veering all over the street. Now I ask you. Do I seem the slightest bit impaired to you?”

Saidso held his right hand out like the head of a snake, steady and level to the ground.

“Did you see a big guy? Looks like Li’l Abner?”

“No, I just got here. Here’s what I’m thinking. My team will follow you around. They’re very unobtrusive. You won’t even notice them. They use drones. We’ll wire your house to the extent that you’ll allow. I’m looking at either forty-four of fifty-six minutes to be aired weekly. I believe I can get you a seven figure deal.”

Gary counted on his fingers.

“I know Roebuck Simms bailed you out of jail, but I don’t know why. I think I can get him on the show.”

“You know about Steely Danielle?”

“I was there! I tried to talk to you then but some thug kept getting in my way.”

“What thug?”

“A six foot seven Jamaican transsexual. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”

“So why ain’tchoo bail us out?”

“Believe me, my lawyer is on the way. As soon as I’m out, you’re out. By the way. The nutria.” Saidso made the ‘OK’ figure with thumb and forefinger. “Brilliant. I even have a nutria wrangler.”

A guard named O’Malley who looked like El Capitan in Yosemite came back. “Duba, let’s go. You’re bailed out.”

Saidso followed Gary to the gate. “How do I get in touch with you?”

“I’ll call you.”

Habib waited in the reception area. Gary collected his things and signed the forms.

“Thanks for bailing me out.”

“What can I say, I’m sentimental. Also, I have three properties need new roofs.”

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