Hey Buddy

I‘m Buddy Riggs, although I’m sure you already know that. Everyone does somehow. Complete strangers; bellboys, mailmen, janitors-- all of them know me by name. It scares me.
Just the other day I was in Manhattan, hundreds of miles from home, when a panhandler stopped me on the street. This bum, whom I would not know from Adam, looked me straight in the eye and said, “Hey, Buddy, got a buck for an old man?” I stared at him in amazement, backing away.
“What do you people want from me?” I screamed at him. He too stepped back.
“A buck. You got some kind of problem, Bud?
“Oh, now it’s nicknames, is it? I don’t now what you people are trying to pull, but you won’t drive me crazy, do you hear?!! I will retain my sanity!” I turned to rush away but slammed into a police officer.
He growled at me, “Hey, watch where you’re going, Buddy!”
I roared in desperation. I was sick. Sick, sick, sick of this eerie phenomenon terrorizing, taunting me every second of my life. Grabbing his lapels, I jerked him over to me until our faces were inches apart. I was determined to grill this copper until I wormed the truth out of him. “Look, flatfoot, I don’t know what the joke is, but you will tell me what-” That was when he clubbed me with his nightstick.
I woke up in a police station, handcuffed to a chair. Two cops stood over me, murmuring in low tones. They noticed me stirring and stopped. The two were gruff and businesslike. “What’s your name, Buddy?” one tin star rumbled, clutching a clipboard and a pen like it was a dear friend in poor health.
I laughed humorlessly. “Very funny, cop. So, y’all ready to spill? What’s the gag?”
They stared at me for a while, shaking their heads. They moved closer. “You’re tryin’ too hard for an insanity plea, Buddy. Just tell us your name so we can start the paperwork.”
This was it. The last straw. With precious little sanity lingering, I swung the chair fiercely into the two men, knocking them to the floor unconscious. I grabbed the keys from one’s belt and unlocked my bonds, then fled desperately, bursting through the doors and sprinting down the street. I ran up to a slow-moving cab and tore the door open, hurling myself inside. I was sweating profusely and breathing as if each air particle were gold-encrusted.
Safe. Finally, I was safe from the crazy people. I leaned back in the seat and sighed in deep relief. The cabbie glanced back and smiled toothlessly. “Where to, Buddy?”