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Bob’s nakedness was normal within the building. I asked him about the naked card games – He said: “I was on a winning streak and to keep everybody playing, I proved I didn’t have anything to hide up my sleeves by playing naked.” “Did you pull your bank roll out of your ass?” I asked. He replied: “Yes and no; it was in my cheeks, I didn’t have it stuffed in my anus because my key was there.” “In 1972, Did you take the knife out of Fergie’s hands while you were naked, and he was fully clothed? At his card game?” I asked. “Yes,” he said, “and that is all of that story that is true, the rest of the rumors are mostly bullshit. Except, you saw his face the next day when he came down to the office and tried to have me banned from the building. And you saw the dog bite and scrapes on my arm that I got when he wouldn’t drop the knife and he sicced his dog Craps on me.” He felt this story had taken on a life of its own full of untruths and he wanted it brought under control. This is what happened the next day: as maintenance head I was an executive of the Rochdale Building Council. I was part of a jury consisting of Karen Johnston – Rochdale Rentals, Lionel Douglas - Rochdale Governing council, Jay Boldizar - Rochdale accounting and the Governing Council, Billy Littler - Rochdale Security, Mike Randal – Governing Council, and Rudy Hierck - Security. We heard the complaint in 208, the security office next to mine on the second floor. Fergie was so ashamed of himself for losing and getting caught cheating, he tried to have Bob thrown out of Rochdale. If you find this is hard to read with any credulity, I understand. I knew these guys and thought it was humorous street theater at first, until I started to see the bodily damage on both of them and tempers start to flare. Fergie was known for sucker punching people. Bob insisted Billy, as security, stand between him and Fergie so he wouldn’t have a clear shot. The complainant brought forth witnesses, all of whom pointed the problem towards himself. Each one said Bob was naked and winning at cards when he caught Fergie stacking the deck. Fergie was a well-known card mechanic and he was watched by everybody that played with him. After his witnesses, spoke against him, he seemed to throw himself on the mercy of the court. His defense became even more bizarre. Fergie was always talking about his black magic skills and the different spells he cast. He had made a Tarot reading before the game but it didn’t foresee this personal disaster. On these grounds alone Bob must be a warlock he didn’t know about and had blocked his forecasting. Fergie could also tell Bob was a warlock because the act of the card load was protected by a spell he cast and he was still caught cheating. This could only be done by another warlock and Bob had tricked him into continuing to play, eventually destroying him financially. The whole situation was laughable. This was the dog chasing its tail, as Fergie was always talking about curses and spells, and he was a known cheat. He had also declared himself the greatest warlock in the building. It was as if his shame made him insane. He complained about Bob’s speed at taking his knife away from him and how quickly he was beat up. Fergie, declared he had never been unarmed and subdued so quickly by anybody, let alone a naked man. Whoever did this to him must have had unhuman powers, such as a warlock. The man continued saying it was too big a blow to his ego both professionally and personally to not be revenged. This coward was a known sucker puncher and ambusher blathering nonsense about the wrong person. I was having trouble believing my ears and questioning my ability to make reason of his statements. Fergie was groveling and declaring his guilt, trying to plead that his fresh horseshit didn’t stink. This was almost too bizarre, even for Rochdale. Noticeably the physically bigger man, he had been taken out too quickly, according to him. He was trying to say Bob was too dangerous to be in Rochdale. Now, Fergie was the laughingstock of the building. He demanded safety and compensation. His wounds were on his face and wrists and couldn’t be hidden, his honour was tarnished. Now his story really started to reek. The seven of us having to adjudicate, not only the situation but also the individuals, knew both men’s habits and foibles. We knew Fergie as a violent bully, woman beater, card mechanic, general thief, rentals cheat, snitch, a coward and all around disreputable sort from his history in the building. His card games were notorious for complaints of his cheating and bullying. His argument against Bob was a full admission of everything negative we already knew about him. Bob was a building favorite and popular with everyone as an honest person even when he was going through a rough time. He participated in all of the building’s activities and was very active in the Governing and Education councils. We knew Bob’s reputation as a fighter but this was the first time he had demonstrated it so deftly in the building. Personally I was proud of him and amazed at his self-control. We were all stopped in our tracks and had to take a breath as we digested the story. A naked smaller gentleman smites down a larger armed rogue, who is this superman? This is the stuff legends are made of. It is something out of script or a saga. Most of us considered the situation as deserved comeuppance: a fair strike against a habitually vicious creature that admitted his own guilt. Well worthy of a good snicker. As jurors, this is what we pieced together: Bob was a good card player and he rarely took all the money in the game so he was welcome at most tables in the building. So he was almost expected to be at Fergie’s regular poker game in the 9th floor Ashram lounge. Naked, Bob had broken the house and won Fergie’s game. He had caught the mechanical stacking early in the game and simply folded any time he saw or suspected it. The other players soon caught on and folded too. Eventually no money was played if Fergie had the deck and it was passed the next person moving the shuffle out of his influence. Being a sore loser, Fergie called Bob into the kitchen and tried to get the money he had up his ass. Bob caught him in the act and considered the act offensive. The villain pulled a knife getting his Great Dane, Craps, excited. Bob controlled his skills, even though he got a bite from the dog. He got the knife out of his assailant’s hands with a couple of sharp, well aimed, maneuvers involving the laying on of his hands upon the opposition’s face, neck and wrists. Stopping the action, he took the knife out of the fool’s hands without doing any permanent damage to the man. No barking, biting, jumping, freaked out, oversized dog was injured in this undertaking. Bob knew where the order came from and promised no damage if the dog was gotten under control. Fergie’s old lady knew the big animal would be a target for the knife and kept Craps back . Had these tables been turned, Fergie would have probably stuck the blade into Bob, not to kill, but to leave a permanent maim. Everybody that knows who I am talking about knows I am not exaggerating. Bob did all of this in front of witnesses from the game and Fergie’s old lady. His opponent subdued but not unconscious or seriously wounded, he left the clash in the ashram lounge that night. Naked he strode with his cheeks bulging from a bigger wad money up his ass than he came in with and the knife in his hands. He took the knife directly to security for safe keeping and told his side of the story. Fergie went home the night he lost and beat up his dog and his old lady for not protecting him. He blamed them for the uncontrollable shame he was suffering. I had never witnessed this level of unabashed guilt attempting to turn the tables. I thought the man was insane and a threat to the building. The other jurors each had an opinion but a level ground needed to be established. Had Fergie not brought up his charges against Bob, the whole incident may have been considered accounts settled. The final settlement I thought was comically simple and “Father Knows Best” like compared to what could have happened. But it worked. Security and the Governing Council were torn between throwing Fergie out of the building and dealing with his revenge attempts or keeping him close to home where they could keep their eye on him. Lionel wanted to make sure there would be no blood feud between them if they both stayed in the building. He made both promise on threat of immediate expulsion not to demonstrate or promote hostilities of any kind. They could not go near each other for six months and each had to show deference to the other. They could not be in the same rooms or hallways without escorts and could not ride in the same elevator with or without somebody else in between. It was decided that Fergie could stay in the building but he could not run a card game. He could play in somebody else’s game. Billy Littler took away his old lady and kept her safe. All of the previous tale mentioned he agreed with in 2019. This story is not a secret, but he had heard elaborations from others over the years that seemed more like somebody else’s fantasies. He felt the story was taking on a series of additional events in which he did not partake. In his own words he said, “All the other embellishments of that story are bullshit.” Our hero wanted his saga free of as many whoppers as possible. His real life was jamb packed with enough genuine adventures. Bob considered unabashed nakedness as part of his military training. When you are not ashamed of your body you can handle being captured and stripped naked in public with impunity. 
Bob making a point 
Selling Rochdale degrees 
learning the clarinet |