Standing outside the convenience store in the evening hours one late spring, a man was preaching his beliefs to anyone he could manage to stop. Most of the customers would brush him off or ignore him, but for those who didn’t, they were soon regretful that they hadn’t.
One man in particular, was extremely regretful.
“I just don’t trust people who have never been stabbed,” said Stab Wound Joe. “Once you’re cut open, and the life is draining out of you as quickly as your blood — it changes your perspective.”
Joe then placed his hands on his hips and gazed off in reverie; his feet shoulder width apart in a power stance.
“If getting stabbed is such a great revelatory experience,” asked Randy, a local regular of the store. “Would you consider stabbing someone yourself just so they could have a similar experience?”
And the pause that followed was chilling. He was considering it.
“I don’t think so, it’s too risky,” answered Joe. “There’s always a chance that things could go wrong.”
“Yeah, dude. Totally.”
“I mean, what if I hit an artery and there’s too much blood? Or what if they can’t reach medical care in time?”
“That’s always been one of my least favorite parts about stabbings,” Randy laughed. He was in disbelief about Stab Wound Joe’s resolve. “There’s a lot of things that could go bad.”
But stabbings were no laughing matter to Joe.
“Truly, but it did change me, and I know it’s all I ever talk about these days, and sometimes I think, “Maybe people don’t want to hear me talk about me getting stabbed all the time?” But then I feel like, I’m graced and more appreciative towards life and I’ve been given a second chance, so I feel compelled to share the great news with anyone who will listen. I’d be ungrateful if I didn’t”
“Oh… well…ok.”
Randy began to wish that he hadn’t stopped, listened, and engaged this time. He had bumped into him before, but had the time and thought it’d be interesting to entertain him for a bit. At first he was happy for Joe, and his newfound perspective, but then it became clear this was some sort of “reborn” type deal. It wasn’t for him.
“Healing and feeling grateful is one thing, Joe. But you’ve been going on about this for weeks now. You act like this gives you cred, like you’re now this more evolved person. And you know better.”
“If you’re going to bring it up so much, at least try to make it sound bad ass every once in a while. For your own sake,” Randy continued laughing. He was trying to be helpful, but had trouble taking the situation seriously.
Joe stared, unsure of what Randy was questioning.
“It does give me more perspective. Have you ever had that kind of experience?” he answered, sounding peeved.
“I would know, but tell me? Hmmm. How would you know?”
Randy didn’t know, but he felt he was beginning to understand why someone might stab him. If this is what the more evolved version of Joe is like…
The two parted shortly after, but neither could get each other out of their minds. For Randy, he wondered how long Joe would hang around the store for, and if he needed to start going to a different store.
That would be a further drive though.
“A “less of a convenience” store,” Randy laughed to himself. But then quickly agreed it’s probably true, he should find a different store.
For Joe, he couldn’t make light of Randy’s mockery; it was both cruel and undeserved. It might seem ridiculous to him, but to Joe, becoming Stab Wound Joe was the greatest turning point in his life. And is a central part of his identity. It was infuriating that Randy couldn’t see that, and would disrespect someone who only wanted to share his blessings.
Incessantly obsessing over their encounter in his head, Joe began building himself up.
“I, sort of in a way, was partially dead before, which means… I am partially resurrected.”
This would of course only take a few days to become plain old resurrected.
Joe continued to hang around the store parking lot, pacing, waiting and waiting for Randy’s return. He had found another point to add to his argument, another reason that he was in fact enlightened.
As Randy’s absence went on, Joe continued spiraling out of his mind, forming more theories. Joe eventually arrived at a conclusion, and reasoned that Randy’s rude behavior was actually, an act of jealousy.
And therefore, Joe then calmed himself down, and switched over to pitying him instead.
“He wants in.” Stab Wound Joe further concluded. “He’s just afraid to ask for it.”
Randy’s spiteful questioning wasn’t for his amusement, but rather, his own curiosity.
“It’s like, I’m in the VIP lounge, and he’s drowning in a world of ordinary people. He wants to step up.”
And considering how he himself was once of Randy’s world, and wasn’t born into this new world, he figured, it’s time to pay it forward. And initiate him.
As Joe drove around all over town looking for his occasional acquaintance, he eventually caught him. Randy was spending time at another nearby convenience store, like he expected.
And when Stab Wound Joe drove up to approach him, as he was getting out of his car, it seemed like not much of a coincidence to Randy.
“Ah there you are, both my contemporary and intellectual rival,” Joe said, giving him the warmest friendliest greeting he could. To Randy, he came off sounding Jokerish. He was struck with a fear that sent his world into a blur.
Randy was with a date, and they were only stopping by to grab candy before a movie. Randy worried he might end up in the hospital instead.
“Jelena, get inside the car and lock it!” he shouted, as he tossed her the keys. He only turned his head slightly to speak to her; he didn’t want to take his eyes off Joe for a second.
“What’s happening? Who is this man?” she asked in a panic. Was there about to be a fight? Or a showdown? What past involvement did they have?
“Hey there Randy! Thought I might find you here. Interesting talk we had the other day. Remember?”
Joe had a great big smile on his face, and seemed to be concealing something in a very suspicious manner.
“Joe…what’s that in your sleeve?” Randy asked as he began slowly backing away.
“Oh this? This is just like what I was telling you about,” Stab Wound Joe said, waving a knife around. Looking at the size of the blade, Randy assumed it had to be illegal. And the fact he wasn’t even hiding it, Randy was certain there was trouble for him.
“This is all very illegal, you know.”
Joe considered this, but shrugged it off. Once Randy sees all the benefits of his new life, he’ll have to drop any charges if it comes to that. Just get him to the hospital and it’s a guarantee success.
“What I know is that you showed great interest the other day in the story of my rebirth. I thought I’d show you exactly what did the trick. It was something that looked exactly like this.”
Randy heard his car turn on, and intuited that Jelena had gotten in on the driver’s side.
“Come closer, why don’t you check it out?” he continued to inch forward, speaking in his unsettling tone.
Stab Wound Joe had the blade layed out flat in his palm, like he was displaying it to make it seem less threatening. But his constant, steady movement in Randy’s direction undermined the effort.
“This isn’t the exact knife, that one I believe is still out on the street, working its magic hopefully.”
And when he got even closer, Randy’s fight or flight instinct kicked in, and he swung and hit him in the side of the head. Joe gripped the knife, and they began wrestling for it, slamming each other between two cars in the parking lot.
“I just want you to see things my way,” Joe breathlessly panted. “You’ll like it I swear!”
With the knife point inches away from lunging into Randy’s neck, Jelena jumped to the passenger seat, and slammed Joe in the stomach with the car door. He bent over, and she pulled the door in to hit him with it again.
Joe looked down at himself in deep shock. He was overcome with a sense of deja vu. And bleediness.
He dropped the knife and Randy slid it away under a few cars using his foot. He then ran to secure it, as Jelena hit Joe with the door a third and final time, this time hitting him in the face as he was on the ground.
“I guess I’m Stab Wounds Joe,” he thought, in a moment of frightful introspection.
Wounds for plural. He smiled at this.
But as he looked down, he was confused by the situation. It was a deep slice, definitely needing dozens of stitches, but was it a stab? It didn’t appear that way. Still, could he include this in his new name? And did it ever matter that stabbing was the near death method?
He began asking himself the big questions, each question feeling bigger than the last, as blood continued pouring out. A crowd watched as he laid against a tire.
The driver who owned the car remarked on the irony of Joe’s presence at the store.
“I came here to quickly grab a few things and go. But no! Not today!” He threw his arms up, baffled by it all.
Authorities arrived, and transported Joe to the hospital in handcuffs.
After a quick stitching, Joe was then sent to jail, where he waited, until he was eventually sent to prison. Randy and Jelena that day had to stick around to give statements, and then catch a later movie. It was a terrible, yet exhilarating and remarkable date night, they thought. Things didn’t work out between them, but still they shared an unforgettable story together.
Life behind bars gave Joe a lot of time to think about his decisions. A scheduled life with three meals a day prepared for him, and lots of others to socialize with; guys who he had more in common with than anywhere else. Joe had a bright new perspective on this life as well.
It was an upgrade he felt.
“I never been to jail, and I never would’ve gotten myself here if it wasn’t for him!”
Was Randy perhaps a secret angel all along? he thought.
And then after some short rumination, he’d believe it.
And then he couldn’t believe he almost stabbed an angel.
“Oh me!” he laughed.
Joe met a few other guys who had life-threatening stab wound scars in his new home, which made him feel as though there was an instant camaraderie between them.
This wasn’t reciprocated.
During Joe’s stay, he was able to add a few more wounds to his collection, which he learned to only bring up to newer, younger arrivals; the stab-wound-free kind that is.
He maintained his wiser-than-thou convictions, and even saw himself as a mentor to the youngins — he was going to help them make the most of their stay.
Some, through fear, did feign being impressed.
“I once stepped on a nail and it went in my foot!” informed a fellow inmate name Jake.
Joe scoffed, “And what’d you learn? To look where you’re walking?”
He’d have to give him the real experience, he believed. Or at least arrange for it.
Through time, Joe unintentionally rose the ranks of the prison hierarchy, and had coordinated enough violations, that he inadvertently turned into a de facto-leader, a status which was even known about and respected by the warden.
He found peace and contentment in this. For a decade or so.
Joe was eventually found dead in his cell one day, with more holes in him than the PGA tour. In his final minutes, a smile crept into his face. It was a miraculous way to go, a beautiful grand finale, the perfect ending. Stab Wounds Joe was legend in his name sake.
Welcome Amnesia 