Tuesday, 26 July 2011

-Todd- Just incase anyone wants to know

Well then.

So, my trip went good. For the most part. As good as things can get with this life, you know?

I only ended up visiting my hometown for a little while on the way up. Place has gone to shit, and not in the way most towns do. There are a lot more trees now, apparently nine kids have just gone missing in the last couple years, and there's even a memorial to this girl who committed suicide. I can only imagine how that happened.

But here's a fun story. I went to this restaurant. Nice little place I don't remember being there when I was around. I wait by the front, and this nice old lady escorts me to a table, and on the way, I see a guy, who, no kidding, looks fucking exactly like Spencer. From the quick glance I got at him, anyway. Unfortunately, I was seated in a place where I could only get a view of the back of his head. I kept an eye on him while I was eating, much to the waitress's uncomfort.

He got up and walked out, so I followed . (I left my money on the table so they knew I wasn't dashing). I followed him out to the parking lot, where he started to look a lot less like Spencer. I mean, they still looked alike, but the main thing they had in common at this point was possibly a Blood Alcohol Content. This guy catches a glimpse of me, cusses me out, calls me numerous nasty names, and vomits a little. I walk back in the restaurant, pay, and leave. Once I get back out, I see the guy lying in the middle of the road, head just fucking smashed in.

the weird thing is, with his face smashed in, he looked a lot more like spencer.

But the delivery. The delivery is what you all want to hear about. So, a few hours after that, I go to the address on the package, which happens to be a music store. I walk in, with some indy rock shit or something playing in the background. The owner of the store, eighty something year old guy with the biggest pair of glasses I have ever seen in my life and a "I'm going to die at any moment" disposition about him. At first he backs away, then he sees the package in my hand.

"Oh thank god," he says. "You are exactly what I need right now."

I give him the package, and he gives me a wad of hundreds. I flip it through my fingers, just sort of an automatic thing most people do when they're given a lot of money. He gets a worried look and says "Oh, it's not enough, is it?" And he rushes in the back. I yell to him that it's fine, he doesn't really need to give me more, and he walks out with the most expensive looking trumpet in the store.

I insist that he doesn't have to do this, and that I really can't play because of bad fingers. He nods, walks to the back, again, and this time, walks back with a very shiny trombone. I take it, just cause I really don't want upset this old guy. I give him the package, and try and walk out. He insists that I stay so he can show me what he got. He opens the box, and pulls out a necklace with the operator symbol on it.


"It keeps Him away, you know. This symbol."

I smile. Poor fucker. I get out of there as fast as possible.

Not much else happened.

1 comment:

  1. Fear does remarkable things to people, does it not?