Every time I visited the disco club, I saw him drinking at the bar. He was close to the bouncers, and looked menacingly rough and tough. Someone whispered to me that he was from the underworld, so I avoided him.


One day, he approached me and struck up a conversation. Despite his outward appearance, I was surprised by his charm and politeness. We sort of became friends.  


Curiosity got the better of me, and I began to pump him with a battery of questions.


“Are you married?”


“No. It’s dangerous for any girl to marry me.”


“Is your job dangerous?”


“Kind of.”


“Have you ever thought of doing a job that is less dangerous?”


“Many times but it’s a futile wish.”


“I bet you have not tried hard enough.”


“No point trying. Let me explain it this way. I’m like a tree that is bent and it stays bent forever. There’s no way it can become straight again.”


He took a long drag on his cigarette and added, “It’s impossible for me to lead a normal life. I won’t be able to survive. Who will accept me? Who will offer me a job?”


One day, I did not see him at the club and he never appeared again.