What We Pretend to Know so that We Need Not Learn

This was Mr. Neuman. Desperate and worry-some, struggling to find the next thing, the next case, the next step. In his state of disbelief that he had really no way to reach his vast earnings, Paul offered a hand to a lovely lady that he barely even knew. It was embarrassing to admit that he had no clue what she did or who she was.

Things are different now. These aren't clients, they aren't nameless faces or commodities anymore. There was a person behind each face and a feeling behind each person that lived around here. Come to think of it, in his valiant attempt to be charitable, Mr. Neuman didn't associate with much of anyone. He clung to what he knew and never attempted to really truly learn what his father wanted him to.

In his mirth Paul actually couldn't remember whether she received his room number, or if she too could only see a face rather than another person.

Shameful, even walking to a restaurant where it seems everybody is gathering Paul Neuman can't really see people. He sees things. What Mr. Neuman sees is disgusting, wretched people that were forced together for their own reasons, none of them actually similar at all. We are all differently pushed together into this place where we learn or choose not to learn from our mistakes. A miserable stripper that is just realizing, as he is, that so many of these people find misery and unhappiness, yet what's more is that they are all growing, more or less. People hate it here and no one can wait until they are finally released from a place so unenjoyable... and yet...

Paul sees something else... Paul sees those who have witnessed unspeakable things and yet their minds cannot help but find refuge in a place where they learn or do not learn, yet they welcome their sorrow along with their refuge. They see through this so-called hell and pull together to form something beautiful... different. It doesn't take much, once you cut through the swearing and the vulgarity to see that 2 friends enjoy themselves through their own means and besides... looking at himself now in the window, who is he to feel any more than they are? He might as well not even live up to his own family given name.

The restaurant was busy, but he managed out the last of his pocket change for some coffee, cheap stuff to get used to a new meager life style. Maybe it wasn't too late to learn. Maybe he might go home after all and take something back maybe he would hear back from Ceilí or--. Paul Neuman almost crumbled, he saw his future pass in front of his eyes as he read an article of his father terminally ill and his lawyer making a statement. His bravado came undone a little, and Mr. Neuman's usually pleasant and peace loving face gave through to a glare at his paper and his shoulders hunched as if his coat stood up on end. This is Paul.

Where Jaguars Fear to Tread

COME ON!! The Jaguar wouldn't start...it only seemed to gurgle. After long months of neglect the car wouldn't be easy to move. I DON'T WANT TO STAY. The car purred, refusing its purpose. Newman had to think, this shouldn't be so hard. The inheritance would still be in his bank account, what was left of it since he got cut off. How inconvenient, pampered beyond his means Paul Newman always had a way out. He sighed as the car finally awakened, but something in Paul made Paul Newman remove himself from the car and place the keys on the hood again, charitably offering it once more. Newman knew that it would probably never be claimed, Jaguars don't belong in these slums they belong in concrete jungles.

He brushed off his tattered suit, but some sort of sun soaked lack of grooming made it a change of coat entirely. It changed to suit his environment, a casual gray. How fashionable Newman thought, but I really must get back home, I've had enough of this debacle of a learning experience. Paul had grown used to using his feet anyway.

It wasn't instantaneous. This sight had to soak in. Newman learned from his teachers his entire life that business was about reading your environment, sensing the words that a picture told even if there were worth a thousand words. However, this scene was worth more than 1000 words, it boggled him. He outlined the steps in his head: 1) Bank 2)My inheritance 3) Going home 4)No more of this place 5)Withdraw money 6)ATM.... wiring... something is missing from this spot.... It seemed that #7 would never come... 7)........Trapped. Not to worry. Paul always lands on his feet.

Newman almost lost himself in all of it. He recovered his sense of dignity and helped a young woman to her feet, asking if she was alright and if she had any idea what this 6th word... ATM of course could have gone off to. Not forgetting his charm and wit that was left from his business past. Less for the audience of 1, more to clutch to what yarn thread of a past life that he could.