Steve IV: The Quest For Peace

Well, you’re probably as sick of reading about this story as I am of writing about it. Anyway, it’s over.

First of all, this afternoon, a friend of mine — the friend who had first told me that Steve seemed too persistent — sent me Steve’s photos. He had dark hair and an unusually large forehead. Knowing what he looked like in advance made me feel better. Knowledge is power.

This evening, the other friend of mine — who had volunteered to accompany me to the exchange — met me 10 minutes beforehand at the designated street corner, which was moderately busy. People walking by, evening traffic bustling. I had the money in hand — a five, three ones, and two quarters. At 6:30, nobody resembling Steve was in the area. At 6:33, I said that if he didn’t show up in two minutes, we’d leave. At 6:35, someone crossed the street and came over to us. Except for the fact that he was wearing a cap, it looked like Steve. There was a pause of two seconds, as each of us decided that the other was the person he was looking for.

“Jeff?” he said.

“Yup,” I said, and handed him the money.

“Do you want the Playbill?” he said.

“Nope,” I said, and my friend and I turned around and walked away.

Twenty seconds later I turned around to see if he was following us, but there was nobody in sight.

My friend and I continued to walk down the street, and I thanked him and told him that I owed him dinner. I had to be somewhere, so we went our separate ways.

And that was that.

When I got home several hours later, I was expecting to find an irate phone message or e-mail from Steve, but there was nothing. To be honest, I was sort of disappointed. But I’m glad it’s over.

In sum, this whole thing has cost me $8.50, a friend’s dinner, and a $1 package of mini-donuts I had to buy in order to break a ten-dollar bill so I’d have exact change.

There are lessons to be learned here. If anything like this ever happens again (and I seriously doubt that anything remotely similar to this will ever happen again), I should stand up for myself, not let myself be manipulated, and tell the guy that if he wants the money, he can give me a mailing address.

I have to work on my confrontations. Why do I always have to act like the good guy? I don’t have to be so passive-aggressive.

Onward and upward.

Oh — thanks to those of you who responded to the poll. In the words of one respondent: “You should pay him for the value of the entertainment he’s provided your readers. $8.50 is a steal.”

Wonder what Steve would do if he knew he was being blogged?

Let’s not even go there.