Tag Archives: strategy

Howard: Part I

“But when you give a feast, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you. For you will be repaid at the resurrection of the just.” -Luke 14: 13-14

Howard is a toucher. As soon as I arrived he threw his arms around me and held on for an inappropriately long period of time. My compulsory reaction was “Oh, hey! We’re doing this then? I think it’s a little early in our relationship for us to be getting physical, don’t you? I feel like we just met.” to which he replied, “I’ll frequently be giving you hugs, or coming up and putting my arm around you… I wawnt you to feyl welcome and loved in my home.” I didn’t mention that touching me would have the exact opposite effect. I just left it alone.

I could hardly find my way to his house and had to call him for directions. When I turned the corner for his block, there he stood in a pair of khaki slacks and an argyle sweater. He is a short, stocky, bald man with wire-framed glasses that look like they were purchased in the 80’s. His bottom lip is substantially larger than his upper, and protrudes outward when he smiles with his lips closed (which is almost exclusively how he smiles.)

Howard prides himself as a southern gentleman and a Christian. He claims to be too liberal for his conservative friends but at every opportunity he had he would vehemently tout his positions on various political topics, all of which sounded like he was parroting a Fox news program he had seen. I later came to find that it was commonplace for him to outright state a quality about himself which he later contradicted directly through his actions.

So there we stood in an awkward embrace outside of his apartment complex. I was peering around the neighborhood nervously as I was devising various escape plans in case he went in for an ass grab. He finally released me and put his hands on my shoulders, making no-less awkward eye contact and saying, “I wawnt you to feyl loved and welcome in ma home.” He then switched over to the opposite shoulder and went in for another hug.

There were a couple of patterns that would begin to emerge. He would always hug me, make awkward eye contact, and then hug me on the opposite side. He also frequently repeated himself for emphasis, but it came off as disingenuous.

We finally went inside and I set down my duffel bag and cot. “Okay. This is going to be your corner. You said you brought your own beyed right?”

“Yeah.” I replied. “I’ll set that up later.”

“Okay, come with me.” We walked down the street to the coffee shop where he introduced me to the two Aussies who were staying with us. We then proceeded to go to the local supermarket. “I love this stowr. They have evraything you need. Absolutely. Evraything. You. Need.” He then proceeded to take me on a tour through his small local market and showed me where everything was before buying the one item he came for and leading me out the door.

“The Australians are wonderful people. Just wonderful! They’re good Christian men who are traveling across America sight-seeing. They want to watch the Super Bowl tonight” and that is just what we did.

Howard had told me early on in our correspondence that he did not have Internet access there. He had a Clearnet personal wifi dongle which he had affixed to his personal laptop. He said that he likes it that way because then people aren’t sitting around on their computer the whole time. He sat on his laptop for the entire first half of the Super Bowl.

I saw this as a welcome opportunity to survey the wireless in his neighborhood. After all, he couldn’t get upset at me when he’s using his laptop right?  I pulled out my netbook, attached the Alfa hi-gain antenna to it, and popped into monitor mode.

wash -i mon0

A whole host of wireless access points appeared. All protected with WPA or WPA2, and all with WPS enabled. I shut the laptop down and continued to watch the game. I made small talk with the Aussies a bit, but doubted seriously that we had anything in common.

The halftime show came on and Howard decided to grace us with his presence. It was Beyonce and she was working her hips as usual. The show opened with pyrotechnics and a screen behind her with graphics. It was really quite impressive. “Well I’ll give her this: she sure does have a nice opening.” I said. The Aussies immediately exchanged glances and fought back hysterical laughter. That was the moment I realized that they may not be the luminescent tributes to Christianity that Howard had made them out to be.

So were they frauds? Were they just stringing Howard along? A slew of questions began to fill my mind. I just sat with a devilish grin on my face, observing them from the corner of my eye.

About halfway through the third quarter, the Aussies got up and announced that they were going to catch the rest of the game at a bar in order to get the genuine American experience.

“Okay, just remember the house rewles,” Howard said. “Be back before midnight, don’t get drunk, and don’t wake me up when you come in.” They reaffirmed him that they would be good, and Howard declared “LOVELEY! LOVELEY, GUVNA!” I think he was trying to mimic their accents, but it was a wretched impression. If anything, it made me think of an Englishman, and it would have been a shitty impression of an Englishman.

Howard and I had a little bit of one-on-one time to chat after they left. We talked about life, politics, and hardship. That’s when he began to talk about “The Blacks.” He mimicked their accent equally as poorly and just as offensively as he had done with the Aussies.

“They expect everything to be handed to them and they don’t wawnt to work. Evraybody wants to say that it’s due to poverty but I can tell you what it ayis. It’s lack of a postitive male role model. Many times the man isn’t in the picture, and if he is, he’s lazy and doesn’t want to work.” Howard said.

“Now, okay. I agree that laziness and misuse of government welfare programs is a problem, but it’s not a black problem. It’s a social problem. I think it’s unfair to generalize a race of people as having an inherent instinct to mooch.”

“Well they wawnt to blame it on slavery, and it’s layke ‘I wasn’t there for slavery and neither were you and don’t forget: we didn’t go there and take them! THEIR OWN PEOPLE SOLD THEM! That’s what they don’t ever tawk about.”

I noted his complete disregard for any kind of dialogue. He was rattling off talking points without acknowledging logical challenges to his perspective. There were so many holes in his logic that I didn’t even begin to try to point them out. I was clearly not talking to a rationally thinking human being.

“Look, all I’m saying is that I think we’re disenfranchising black people by telling them that their problems exist because they’re black. How is a black child supposed to feel any sense of hope for their future if they’re being told, ‘You’re destined to this lifestyle because it’s an inherent quality of your race?’ I think that’s an ignorant perspective. Furthermore, the longer we see ourselves as separate from one another, the weaker we’ll be as a people. We’ll never be able to come together and work toward the common good. You know how to stop black problems? Stop talking about them as being black problems.”

I changed the topic to my plans for the following day. “I can tell you still feel teyense” Howard said. “I want you to relax and enjoy yourself while you’re here.”

“Well unlike your other guests, Howard, I’m not here sight-seeing. I have work to do. I mean, I’m going to enjoy myself while I’m here, but now’s no time to rest.”

“And that’s faan, but I wawnt you to relax, okay?” I was a little put off. He was fishing for a sign of submission. I decided to challenge his provocation.

“I’m relaxed. You must be misreading my body language. You have made me feel very welcome in your home. How could I not feel relaxed?” Just as I suspected he would, Howard resorted to physical dominance. He abruptly put his arm around me and emphatically pulled me into his torso.

“Good, that’s awl I wawnt. I wawnt you to feel loved and welcome here.” He left his arm linger on my shoulders as he looked me in the eye and said, “You’re going to be alright.”  His breath smelled like molding cheese. “You’re going to do just fine here.” I feigned a heartfelt smile and tilted my head. Howard then proceeded to rest his head on my shoulder. This was where I drew the line. I stood up abruptly.

“Well I’d better get my cot laid out. It’s starting to get late. I unrolled the canvas and sat lotus style, assembling the metal inserts.

“I lyke you already.” Howard declared.

“Why is that?”

“You’re adventurous and thoughtful. I think we’re going to get along just fine.”

“Trying to disarm me,” I thought to myself. “So this is his game. He invites people into his home and then exercises power and influence over them. Well I’ve had plenty of experience dealing with this type of person. If it’s verbal gymnastics you want, then verbal gymnastics you shall receive. Let’s dance, motherfucker.”

Howard lay down to go to bed at around 10:00p. Everything was dark and silent except for a muffled conversation which seemed to be coming from the apartment directly above us.  I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep yet so I decided to have a closer look at the wireless networks that could be seen in the area. There was one which was open entitled “Java Virus Testing.” Its BSSID was the same as another ESSID in the area named “T|-|3 F0><“

So this individual had an open network perhaps fishing for victims, and another network he was using for personal purposes. Interesting. Let’s see what “The Fox” does when he catches a mouse. I connected to his “Java Virus Testing” network. There didn’t appear to be a DHCP server running. I ran a sniffer on the local interface and only really saw ARP requests and the like. No unusual activity. It didn’t appear that this individual had any sort of IPS or active monitoring happening. The funny thing is that his “T|-|3 F0><” SSID was using WPA2 but vulnerable to the WPS exploit. I would give it a shot tomorrow.

I zipped up my duffel bag and secured the padlock, then wrapped the shoulder strap around my arm before closing my eyes and trying to get some rest. Sirens could be heard in the distance. The muffled conversation upstairs seemed to be escalating into a heated argument.

Just as I was nodding off I heard the front door open. I lifted my head just enough to see the Aussies creeping in as quietly as possible. I glanced over at the digital clock. “1:38AM” was glowing red. “There is a very interesting dynamic in this household” I thought to myself. I put it out of my mind and drifted swiftly into a deep sleep.

The following day Howard was to take the Aussies to the Museum of Science and Industry. I would begin to get a two-week plan together. I also intended to begin to probe into the relationship between Howard and the Aussies. This was going to be an interesting week…

Preparedness.

“The will to win is nothing without the will to prepare.”
― Juma Ikangaa

It is three days until my departure. I held an estate sale last weekend to try and sell as much of my stuff as possible. I’ll be holding it again this weekend. When everything is cleaned out I’ll be ready to leave.

Ready to leave. The thought is alien to me. I picture myself at my front door with my bag packed, taking one final look over my first apartment before I abandon it forever. I picture myself taking my first steps toward my hero’s journey with my head held high. The truth is that I’m a scared little child.

This whole decision was reactionary from the beginning. I’ve been cornered and this is all I’ve got. I have a glaring history of being unprepared. It has gotten me into a lot of embarrassing jams from which I should have learned my lesson. On this occasion, I lost my job and had almost no savings to speak of after 4 years of living with a surplus in my personal budget. My reaction was to start my own business.

I wasn’t entirely confident in my ability to run my own business, and as such was barely willing to put in the effort to get it up and running. It didn’t help that small business ownership was a knee-jerk reaction to being fired. I have no formal business plan or accounting strategy. The whole time I was planning the business, I was daydreaming about running away and drifting from place to place but I dismissed the idea as absurd.

I’ve realized something. Everything in life must be approached with strategy. If you want to be successful, you must imagine your potential failures and make backup plans for every scenario you can fathom.

Prepared or not, I’ve kicked down my ladder. I have no option of staying now.