That guy at the end of the bar, see him? The one with the oily black hair and pale skin. His name is Andy. Stay away from him.

Andy looks shy. He usually sits alone. You’d might think he’s some kind of hermit. Don’t be deceived. He is a dangerous man. A killer in a sense. Maybe worse. A drawer of caricatures. A cartoonists. Once he sets his sights on you it is all over.

He usually stakes out the same spot, that place at the at the end of the bar over near the restrooms. That’s where you are most likely to spot him when he’s at Otto’s Sports Bar.  Though there are times when you will see him at a table in the back of the bar, sitting alone, doodling with a pen on a sketch pad. He doesn’t always show what he is drawing, but there have been nights, many nights, when he passes around some of the cartoons he creates. The pieces of paper work their way through the bar, passing from one hand to another. Friends, acquaintances, complete strangers study the drawings, look at the victim, point, and laugh.

I say victim because Andy takes inspiration from people around him. He sees what others don’t see or what a reasonable person wouldn’t point out. Features are exaggerated.  Ears here. A nose there. Protruding teeth. Missing or wild hair. A squint. Whiskers. A weak jaw. And the body. That would also be exaggerated, become a surreal thing, a bloated mass of space and lines. All imperfections highlighted. And, if you have no imperfections, your beauty beyond that of mortals gets lampooned.

Such humiliation should be outlawed.

We all looked at cartoons in the comic section of newspapers when we were little or see them on social media. Absurd figures designed for giggles, altered versions of the famous and powerful designed for mockery. Yes, we all loved them when we were little, and love them still, especially when the drawings are of people who are in the public eye. If Andy had stuck to celebrities maybe we could have gotten along better. But no. Andy says he’s all about real life, real people. He’s wrong. He’s all about hurting people.

It’s not always fun to become a cartoon characters.  Some victims skewered by Andy’s sharpie never return to the bar.

I have had it worse than most victims because Andy and I shared the same employer a few years back as well as the same preferred watering hole.  Andy found the curve of my back to be hilarious. The way I grinned reminded him of some kind of animal. I found his work pasted next to the time clock at air conditioner factory, and handed to me whenever I ordered a beer after work.

It was amazing stuff. Andy definitely had a gift. I hated it.

I told him, more than once, “Andy, you have talent. You should draw for a magazine. Just don’t draw me anymore.”

The first time I spoke to him about his cartoons, he told me. “I can draw whatever I want. Freedom of speech.”

He didn’t stop. Instead he drew more pictures of me than anyone else at the job.

After I kept complaining to him, he got nasty about it. His cartoons of me became evil and perverted.  He portrayed me as ugly and stupid, having to suck off the foreman to keep my job, worse stuff than that.

The more I talked to Andy about it, the worse the pictures became. I don’t like snitches, and didn’t want to be one, but he took it too far.  I complained to the Human Resources Manager about the cartoons and gave her copies of some of them. There was an investigation.  Andy was fired for harassment. I didn’t expect him to be fired. I just wanted it to stop. But I wasn’t sorry to see him go.

Only problem with Andy being fired was a lot of the other folks at the factory liked him and liked his cartoons. It wasn’t easy for me to stay there, but I needed to pay rent. Not that it mattered in the long run. The owner shut down the factory after a few years. Moved manufacturing to Mexico.

After the factory I worked selling furniture, landscaping, cleaning gutters, delivering pizzas. You name it. After the ride share thing came in I started doing that.

When I worked at the factory I went to Otto’s two or three times a week after my shift.  I go there less now because work takes me all over, but I still visit a few times a month to to have a beer and watch a game.

After he was fired, I would see Andy there. We never spoke but he never looked happy to see me. I wasn’t going to change bars just because of him.

I heard Andy had found another job and had begun sending cartoons to websites and print magazines on the side.  Some were actually used. Including drawings of me. That was before I got laid off.  Years ago. Now I hear Andy might be getting big time.

I don’t know if Andy got money for his art at first, but more people were seeing his pictures, including his pictures of me. That has always been a problem for me. He still uses me for sick inspiration.  Now he gets paid for it. And me? I guess I’m getting famous now as well. Not in a way I like.

It started as a rare thing, but seems to be happening more and more now. I will be out shopping or walking down the a street and some total stranger will look at me and laugh. Sometimes the stranger will do a double take and look at his or her phone, then look back at me, before breaking into hysterical laughter.

I have no absolute proof that this is because of Andy’s cartoons, not when it occurs in malls or in the parking lot of the Save-A-Lot. But, at Otto’s Sports Bar, I know, because I get to see some of his artwork when it gets passed around.

Some friends have told me I should stop going to Otto’s alll together, but if I do, he wins. I’ve been going there since I was seventeen with fake I.D.  Why should I change my life because of him?

Other friends have told me I am just being too sensitive. Andy draws everyone he sees and makes them ridiculous. I should put up with it or take it as a compliment. We all need to laugh, even if we have to take turns being the butt of the joke.

I do not agree. Yes, I laugh at some of Andy’s cartoons that are not about me, but when I see a drawing placing me in an insane or obscene situation, it is not the same. It is personal. The man should know better.

While it is true he doesn’t draw as many pieces of me as he used to, the fact is he still draws me, and I don’t like it.

I am not a violent man, but I have been tempted. Sorely tempted. I have not done anything yet. No slashing of tires. No crowbar to the back of his head. I can’t say I will never do it. I might. I would prefer it not come to that. But, if he keeps pushing my buttons…

Tonight we’re both at Otto’s. I see him. He sees me. He is drawing.  He is always drawing except when  he’s downing a beer or a shot.

I don’t care if other people think I am ugly or stupid. I’ve heard those types of comments all my life. I do care if they think I am some kind of pervert or crazy person. I am not that way except in Andy’s mind. But And, he can’t keep those thoughts to himself. He has to share it with the world.

I had nothing against the man until he started putting me in those cartoons. I’ve given him plenty of chances to change and make amends. He hasn’t.  Andy just keeps on being Andy.  He’s the one who keeps pushing me. If something happens…If anything ever happens… No one should blame me.

Look at that. A blond half his age is at Andy’s table now, standing over him, boobs hanging in his face. She has a cartoon in her hand, one that they have been passing around the bar.. Looks like she wants Andy to sign it. Look at them talking. Now they’re looking at me. They turn their heads and whisper.  Andy signs the drawing and hands it back to the lass. She hugs him and walks away. So he has fans now. 

He looks at me. I look at him. He starts drawing again.

Someone tells me Andy’s cartoons are for sale at a local art gallery. Frames included. This is getting out of hand. It has to stop. A guy told me I should hire a lawyer, but that is money and time.  I should just kill him.  Cartoon logic would have me drop a piano on him, have him step into an open manhole, something like that. But that won’t happen. I don’t live in a cartoon world even if Andy wants me to be in one.

I’ve never had talent like Andy has. If I could draw I’d show him what it feels like. I could even include a piano or ten ton weight.

I’ll think of something. I won’t let him get big, or bigger than he is now, on me. I won’t be one of Andy’s stock characters, a creature in his portfolio.

I could get a hammer and break the hand he draws with, set fire to his apartment, something. I don’t know what.

Maybe I would, but probably not.

Not unless I could get away clean… How often does that happen?

There’s a new crowd hanging around Andy. They’re all laughing. He’s eating it up.

It’s time for me to go. I have some thinking to do.