The Swaggerer

There was a time in my life were I was sort of a cop.  I say "sort of" because explaining what I really did gets complicated, and it's not necessarily untrue to say I was "sort of" a cop.  So ... I'm sticking with it.  I bring this up to tell you a story.

One day my partner and I were out on a stakeout.  Yes, it was one of those scenes-you-see-in-the-movies stakesouts.  We were in our car.  He had his giant camera with this super-charged lens and we were waiting for the bad guys to show up.  At one point, a group of people passed our car, so he quickly hid the camera and hissed, "Yell at me.  We need to be having a fight."  Happy to oblige, I started telling him what a loser he was, how "completely annoying you can be sometimes" and in short, let it all out.  I felt wonderful.  He was pretty amazed I could spew venom on cue.  I wasn't.  (He could be pretty annoying at times.)

When the bad guys started showing up, he'd click away, shutters rattling off one captured frame after another while I sat and tried to figure out who was who.  See, here's the thing.  We knew who they were, we just didn't know which one was which.  We had to match faces to names.  (It's a long story.)

Then I saw him.  He got out of his car (I think it was a Volvo) and after he chirped the car alarm he walked towards the meeting place.  Here's the clincher:  THE MAN SWAGGERED.  I kid you not.  It was definitely a swagger.  He was swaggering.

"That's so-and-so," I said to my partner.
"How do you know?"
"He's swaggering."
"I can't put that in a report!"
"Write what you want.  That's the guy.  That's the boss."

Here's where my partner started to guffaw.  I mean tears-and-snorts kind of a laughter with lingering giggles still minutes later.  Annoyed (which is why it was so easy to yell at him earlier) I stood my ground.  As it turned out, I was right.  He was the head honcho and his swagger proved it.

I bring up this story because I saw a man swagger today.  From the back, I swore to myself here was a Japanese mobster in Cambridge, Massachusetts.  The odds of me being right this time were slim.  But, the man had that swagger.  The same one Japanese yakuza guys have.  As do the arrogant, "do-you-see-this-giant-chip-on-my-shoulder" guys, and the "I'm-such-a-badass-you-can't-touch-me" guys who aren't really bad but want the world to think they are.  It takes a unique Japanese male to pull off a real swagger.  This guy today had it down pat.  When I saw him cross the street and climb into his cab, I was very sorry to admit there was no way this guy was a Japanese badass.  A wannabe, maybe.  But not the real deal.  It amazed me, though, that here would be a middle-aged Asian man who looks the part, walks the part, has that "I'm-a-tough-guy" routine all tightly choreographed, but is only a taxi driver.  (And I use the word "only" here with the utmost respect for taxi drivers.)

There's a swaggerer I work with up north in the Tohoku region of Japan.  He's one of these "I-want-to-look-bad" guys, and his reputation could be better.  He wouldn't be happy if he knew I was spilling to the world he's not nearly as badass as he thinks he is.  But, here again is that swagger.  With him, it's more a "get-out-of-my-way" walk but it's there.  People do scurry when they see him.  Children don't like him.  He's "that scary uncle" to most kids, and if they know he's coming for dinner, they'll find homework that didn't get done earlier or preparation for tomorrow that they swore they didn't need when asked before they knew of uncle's arrival.

Men who swagger are truly a breed of their own.  I hope some day you see one only because you really must see to believe.   And, try not to laugh when you do see them.  That act wouldn't be appreciated.