Friday, August 7, 2009

Walking with the Angel of Death


I went on the strangest walk today. It was raining, not pouring down rain or sprinkling rain but regular rain rain so I brought an umbrella. Not my umbrella mind you, an umbrella I need to return to a friend but haven’t because I haven’t bought another one since mine died.


In any case I decided to go for a walk and return my Netflix movies all the way to the post office instead of just down the block. I thought it would be refreshing and help cure my hang-over since the dude leaf-blowing for three hours this morning didn’t really help (as if there are so many leaves in the middle of the summer, ass).


So, I’m walking in the regular rain, just a regular walk no one too irritating, no one from England etc. and I get to the post office and this woman is sitting in her car parked in front of those blue things that eat envelopes and she yells at me out her window. She asks if I mind letting one of those blue things eat her card she’s mailing and I oblige and put it in the blue thing’s mouth. She thanks me and I think I’m doing a good deed, helping someone out, but then my mind turns cynical and I think about how freaking lazy that woman was for not being able to get out of her own car and walk two steps, how she was probably sitting there waiting for the next innocent bystander to walk by so she wouldn’t have to. I sigh, and let it go and try to go back to my original thought about me doing a good deed, but it was nevertheless futile.


Then I start walking back towards my apartment and I hit a red hand in my face telling me not to cross the street so I wait. And as I wait this man strolls up beside me in a black cloak with the hood up. He has a big brown beard and big bushy brown hair (I imagine that’s what it looks like with the hood down anyway) and he’s wearing sandals and you can see that his toenails are too-many-cigarettes yellow and gnarled like the roots of a very old tree. The red hand turns into a white dude and allows us to cross. The hooded cloaked guy scurries along, walking way faster than me which is odd because generally I walk faster than everyone, but also odd because of the horror movie monster way he’s moving—as in it doesn’t look like he’s walking fast, but somehow he’s already a block ahead of me.


Right when I start thinking about him being the next Jesus another dark figure appears behind me, like the shadow of death. Then I start thinking how the black cloaked dude probably isn’t Jesus but is probably the Death Angel and the dark shadowed dude behind me is going to kill me and I’m going to die hung-over not wearing any underwear.


Then I understand why I don’t smoke weed. I am paranoid enough as it is.


The dark shadowed dude disappears along with the Angel of Death (obviously after someone else today and I just got in their path) and some old white dude yells at me across the street wanting directions. Which I then had to ridiculously yell back over the traffic. But I can put that down as two helpful deeds in one day, which means I don’t have to be helpful for at least another year (although I’m sure I will be just out of the goodness of my heart).


Yay to strange walks in the rain!

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