Rufus “Three Fingers” McGurk is a complex character. He’s made up of various bits and pieces myself, my father, my father’s father, and various uncles and aunts (the tough aunts).
He prefers to live by his wits, but can earn his bread by the muscles in his back if need be. He’s quiet and a little rough around the edges, but is friendly enough once you get to know him.
As happy watching Tosca from the balcony as he is scarfing down a kraut dog above the dugout on the third base side, he wishes hats would come back into style so he could wear a fedora without drawing stares. Sometimes he still wears the hat – screw ’em.
McGurk is old school. His school is so old they tore it down last year to build a Starbucks. Still, he’s a whiz with technology even though he grumbles about it most of the time.
He drives a stick and changes his own oil.
He wishes pop was still sold in ice-cold bottles that you pull from one of those refrigerator-like doors on the front of the machine.
His favorite form of poison is the Whiskey Sour.
He likes the game of baseball. He can’t spout stats or even tell you which teams are AL and which are NL off the top of his head, but he knows a good double play when he sees one.
He only has three fingers on his left hand. He lost the index finger during an especially heated argument with a meat saw at a former job. Meat cutter, construction worker, wilderness guide, computer programmer, small-time farmer – McGurk has bounced around a bit trying to keep the wolf from the door.
Currently married, he is not sure why Mrs. McGurk hangs on to him, but she must be growing accustomed to his quirks because she hardly ever changes the door locks anymore. They have one little hellion named Magnus (after Magnus ver Magnusson the four-time World’s Strongest Man champion).
He likes to read – classics mostly; often written by Russians with names he can’t pronounce. He has tried those electronic reading devices and will use them in a pinch, but he prefers the crackle and the smell of a good hardcover book.
And art of course; McGurk likes art. He visits museums to see art, reads about art, and secretly he sometimes tries his hand at making art (Rembrandt he ain’t). Read some of his tips for dealing with art here.
Oh, and dolls give him the creeps.