A woman in the audience is screaming at me seated at the head table in the amphitheater at Memorial Health University Medical Center.
She's pretty vicious, pointing yelling things about how I've hurt so many others by not sharing and things are worse because of me ... on and on she goes."Tell you what," the Mayor continues. "I'll buy you lunch at Manuel's sometime soon."
Lots of people didn't like Floyd but over decades I grew to love the man.
We had two fights in time ... I won the first ... he creamed me in the second.
After that we figured we'd accomplish more working together and, given both of us were intense competitors, our relationship was predicated on who would outdo the other.
Over time he took to calling me "Stormin' Norman" after the great general and while I called him "Mr. Mayor" in public, he told me he's just Floyd.
"Lunch would be nice," I whisper back to the Mayor as the woman continues berating me.
People in the audience who don't like me are gleeful while those who do check their phones.
"She's just having her moment," he whispers. "It could be her only one. You may as well let her have it."
"Yeah," I sigh.
"Besides you'd look stupid if you tried to say anything."
I stare the hate coming from her eyes.
"Just think about lunch," Floyd says. "Tuesdays are spaghetti day."
It's hard to not laugh.
"Don't you laugh," he whispers wearing the same face Floyd always wore, a strange combination of bemusement, curiosity and defiance.
Of course I laughed which sent the lady and the audience into a frenzy ... those not likely me licked their chops while those who do appear empathetic.
"I told you not to laugh," Floyd whispers staring straight ahead without moving his lips.
No longer able to stand it, I turn away from the woman and audience and look at the Mayor who continues looking straight ahead.
"You're killing me," I say as the room grows quiet.
Slowly turning his head towards mine, he leans forward so that our foreheads almost touch, and there's laughter in his eyes while his face betrays nothing, and whispers "Naw ... you're killing yourself."
I learned a lot that day.
If people don't like what I write or say and are compelled to say so, it's alright.
They can have their moment.
While they're shooting their was, I've got plenty more moments to come.
