Altered Ego

Writing that postscript about my friend Patterson last week brought up a random thought about alter egos, because when I first made him public on the old blog a couple of people genuinely thought that I was using him as a proxy to make all sorts of outrageous and non-PC utterances. I let it ride and never commented one way or the other because I found it amusing.

For pretty much all of my online life I’ve blogged, written and commented using my actual name — it’s called “taking responsibility for what you say” — and therefore I don’t need to hide behind anyone else’s persona to call Hillary Clinton a rancid Commie bitch, John McCain a wartime hero / peacetime fuckup, or Chuck Schumer a loathsome cocksucker, as I have been known to do on occasion.

With all that said, though, I have to say that there have been two Kims in my lifetime: a naughty, horrible, cruel and mischievous Kim who would do anything for a laugh or a dare, the more outrageous the better — and let’s just call him “Evil Kim”. Evil Kim once told a boss to stop fucking with me and instead go home to fuck his wife, as I had done the night before (and yes, I had indeed done just that, while he was out of town on a business trip — it was her idea, by the way, and she eventually left him because he was a total dickhead). As Evil Kim, I once put a fist through an office wall because I got sick of some asshole taunting me — actually, the punch was intended for him, but I misjudged the distance between us.  When the CEO called me into his office to reprimand me for the action, I told him the circumstances behind the punch, and said that he could fire me if he wanted to, but I wasn’t going to apologize either privately or in public. He didn’t fire me (I have no idea why not, other than maybe because I was really good at my job and our clients loved me). Evil Kim was also a serious philanderer who kicked down the door of several ladies’ boudoirs to have his way with them, sometimes two in the same night and once, memorably, four times over a single weekend. Evil Kim also stuck a gun (Colt Combat Commander) into a guy’s nose when said guy took offence to Evil Kim having bedded his wife on a camping trip while the cuckold was out on the lake in a boat, fishing — and it wasn’t the first time I’d stuck a gun up a guy’s nose, either.

That, then, is a thumbnail portrait of Evil Kim.

Many years later came a quieter, kinder, less abrasive Kim — and we’ll call him “Nice Kim”. Nice Kim was (and is) more respectful of people’s feelings, would be less likely to get into fistfights in bars over trivial arguments, is not on first-name terms with most barmen (and especially barmaids) in the area, and might only lash out when severely irritated or provoked.

Nice Kim came about because I met and fell in love with a woman named Connie, back in 1996. Within a very short space of time Connie gentled me, made me less of an absolute bastard and more acceptable, say, in polite company — something that no other woman, including a brace of ex-wives, had managed to do.  What may astonish you is that the person you’ve known through this and earlier blogs has actually been Nice Kim writing.

I’ll leave to your imagination what kind of blog would have been written by Evil Kim.

I won’t say that Nice Kim has had the field all to himself, though. A good friend once called me long-distance to tell me of his frustration about the fact that his kid sister was being abused by her asshole of a husband. I listened till he reached the end of his story, and asked him what he wanted me to do about the situation — and without prompting, Evil Kim outlined his options. Did he want me just to chastise the little prick, say, into a hospital ward? Or did he want the wife-beater to go away? When my friend realized the implications of what I was actually offering, he calmed down a great deal and told me that I didn’t need to get involved, he’d take care of the matter himself.

Now that Connie has left my life, I’ve noticed that Evil Kim occasionally pokes his head around the corner, eager to make my re-acquaintance. I have to say, I’ve kinda missed the old rogue and we may go out and play together in the future.

Just in closing, I told a close friend about Nice Kim and Evil Kim (he’s only ever known Nice Kim). He listened as I went through a small part of the catalog of horrors (and they were far, far worse than the ones I mentioned above). When I was done, I warned him about the possibility of Evil Kim putting in the occasional appearance. His only comment: “I can’t wait.”

Which should tell you all about the caliber of my friends.

15 comments

  1. Maybe Evil Kim needs a nice relaxing trip to the Seychelles. With a rugby team and a set of overly large carry-ons.

    1. Glack, the Seychelles are too far. However, if I were to take a rugby team and said carry-ons, it might be to Washington D.C…. don’t tempt me.

  2. We ALL have an “Evil (insert name here)” dwelling somewhere in the deep, dark shadows of our youth. Most of us tend to get caught up in a bad case of the sensibles and we realize that if we continue on being Evil Murphy as we age we’re eventually going to meet up with a bigger, meaner bad*ss who is going to teach us a new evil trick or two just before he stomps us into a mud puddle.

    But the happy memories of our evil youth are still with us and some of us keep our edge, just in case….

    1. Murphy, if by “evil youth” you mean “up until age 45”, then you would be correct.

      1. My “enlightenment” came between 50 and 55, which is why the memories are still so fresh!

  3. WWCW?

    Having nothing left to lose is at once an attractive and repulsive hypothetical state of being for many of us.

    But really, if you’re still breathing, you do have something left to lose. Just don’t do yourself any irreparable harm or make your life needlessly harder than it already is. As you well know, some things are infinitely worth doing no matter what, and some are only worth doing in the moment. Might consider having a WWCW? moment before following any particularly incendiary impulse.

    Just sayin’. Not that it wouldn’t be smashingly entertaining and all. :p

    1. Connie was absolutely terrified of Evil Kim. She once said that if I told her that I was once a hit man for the S African security police, she’d believe me. (Of course, I wasn’t; but I did KNOW a guy who was — went to school with him and spent a couple nights in jail together, too — although I didn’t know at the time that he was an informant for the BOSS, bureau of state security.)

  4. As you are well aware, a TRUE friend does not need to be told the reason for the 3am call, nor the appropriate supplies to bring, just a location. They just arrive and help with the given activities. Then a fresh scrubbing, change of clothes and never to be discussed…EVER.

    1. Speaking from personal experience digging in the woods, there’s a reason they’re all shallow graves. Don’t forget the quicklime.

        1. You must be certain that he won’t show up at the door drunk, begging to start over.

  5. Given that Evil Kim was such a rat bastard, how did Connie tame that savage beast, or how/why did Evil Kim gentle his ways for her?

    That might be a story worth telling someday.

Comments are closed.