From a Different Angle WC 280

From a Different Angle

Arnie Dunkley and I have been friends since high school. And we've been in business together for twenty-ish years. We spent every Sunday afternoon together watching or playing sports for all those years. I thought we would be friends forever. Our break-up seemed to happen overnight. I've no idea to this day what happened. All I did was make some silly remark…

We were watching the Bears get pulverized. He yelled out a statistic about the running game.

I offhandedly said, “You’re so full of it! I don't believe you.”

Arnie got all weird.

“So Stan, now you’re the expert on statistics?” he screamed. Bits of Doritos smacked my face as he unleashed his fury, neck veins popping.

I backed up.

“I believe you. I believe you, Arnie! You’re the King of Stats! It was just a saying. Geesh!”

After the Bears lost, he went right home. We usually suck up a couple beers and talk about the game and what went wrong...

The following Sunday, he left a message on my machine, “I can't make it today. Something’s come up.”

What the heck?

And I haven't seen him since. He changed his phone number and moved away. He has disappeared without a trace.

I’m totally bummed.

I forgot to mention that a lot of money went missing from our business the week before this incident. We fired three employees who seemed to have a hand in the theft. Turns out they didn’t. I still feel lousy about that.

I haven’t a clue what happened to the money…

I’ve gotta start looking at this from a different angle. I need to find Arnie.