You know what’s crazy? I’ll tell you what’s crazy™
Crazy Fred!
It’s 9 am on a Saturday morning.
I am scheduled to pick up a car at Enterprise Rental Car for my drive to Carmel.
I’m picking up the car in sleepy Camarillo, a city north of L.A.
The doors open at 9 am. I figure there won’t be anyone there when we arrive. I figure I’ll have to shoo the cows away from the barn when we arrive. I figure I’ll have to ring a bell to get a tired manager to come to the counter from the back room.
I figure wrong.
At 9:03 am, the line is stretched out the door.
“What the ….” I murmur as we park.
I grab my spot in line, just inside the office. I peer around the line of people stretching to the counter. There are mre than a half dozen people ahead of me. There is only one manager working the counter.
“Is that the Enterprise counter way up there?” I ask the man in front of me.
He turns around and laughs.
“Yes. And I’m ahead of you.”
I am stunned for a moment.
“I am ahead of you.”
His words are so accurate, so blunt, I burst out laughing.
And so it will go for the next 30 minutes.
His name is Fred. Fred is an older man of Hispanic descent. He is quick with a phrase, afraid to talk to no one and constantly ready to tell anyone in line that they are next.
Fred tells the line that he was here yesterday but there was something wrong with his rental car so he is back today.
All the Enterprise people know Fred.
“Oh yeah. I know Fred,” the man who will ultimately show me my car says with a smirk.
By the end of this rental experience everyone in line knows Fred too.
Fred has a constant smile and big bushy white eye brows. He is a man in his 60’s with a slight hispanic accent.
Fred tells the other denizens in line how his car was stolen by thieves and wrecked somewhere in Los Angeles.
Fred tells the story even though nobody asks him to. “The police asked me. Do you have insurance? You do? Good. Then file it. This case will never get solved.”
We inch closer to the desk as he regales us with stories.
“They didn’t want to work the case,” he continues. Even the manager is listening from her spot behind the counter.
“I said take a fingerprint. Do something. They don’t want to. Too many cases,” Fred says.
“If you are going to be a criminal, Auto Theft is the best crime in the world,” I tell him.
We inch closer to the counter.
“Why,” he asks like a moderator at a Presidential debate trying to get other members of the line to chime in.
“Because it is a non violent crime,” I say, having 25 years of crime fighting experience. “Auto thieves get little to no time because the jails are full. They are the first to be paroled when more violent prisoners are put in the system.”
“It’s a racket.” he says loudly for a dozen people to hear.
“The police and the thieves and the insurance companies are in bed together. I think Enterprise is involved too.”
He laughs out loud. The counter woman snickers as do others in line.
Fred is just pontificating. He doesn’t care what he says. He is verbal wall paper decorating the office with a mood of Fred, the color of Fred.
Fred is an older man now, but I bet in his earlier days, Fred was the guy who instigated things.
Young Fred made everyone get off the couch and walk on the beach. Young Fred said let’s go to Vegas on a lark.
Young Fred was not afraid to walk up to the pretty girl at the bar. So what if she shoots you down. God just made another pretty girl, is Young Fred’s philosophy. Ask for her phone number too.
Young Fred works in the shining spot light in a three-ring circus. Young Fred steers you into the tent to look at the carnival freaks.
Today Young Fred is gone, but his DNA is still alive and well in this version of older Fred.
“Make sure your tank is filled,” he tells one renter who smiles as he walks to his car.
“Get the Nissan over the Chevy,” he tells another man. “Better mileage.”
I look at my watch, wishing the line would move faster.
“Doesn’t matter how long it takes,” Fred says aloud. “I’m ahead of you, ” he reminds me for the 5th time.
Normally a line is a line. It’s a place to check your frustration, to power down your expectations, a place to watch mediocrity work at a snail’s pace.
Not Fred’s line. He is a carnival huckster peddling ideas, prompting conversations between all walks of life.
This line is a kaleidoscope of people. Fred is the common denominator. He is a math equation divided by himself and one.
That means no matter what, you will always get 100 percent of Fred. Happy, enthusiastic, a conversation that must be spoken whether it makes sense or not.
Finally Fred is next in line.
The new people behind me, who expected to wait in silence, in frustration, in stupidity are now all engaged in the Fred carnival show.
The woman at the counter looks up with a smile.
“next,” she proclaims with a sense of excitement.
I start clapping. Others behind me join in with righteous smiles.
Fred turns and waves his hand at us like he is a lounge singer who just belted out his best Frank Sinatra song.
The manager laughs as Fred moves to the counter and conducts business.
“hey Fred,” i shout.
He turns with a smile.
“I’m next.”
Everyone laughs out loud.
“Feels good doesn’t it?,” he retorts in a Fred kind of way.
Yes it does, Fred. Yes it does.
Life’s Crazy™