Longtime readers and friends may recall that a while back I had a neighbor who I referred to as "Rasta Pasta" for his Rastafarian nature...and it rhymed. He lived in the back of the house in a single and was very odd and very antagonistic. He once got into a fist fight with one of the neighbors which ended comically when the neighbor's girlfriend started beating him with her shoe. He locked access to the backyard, claiming it as his own personal domain, and generally made things interesting. Oddly, while he fought with pretty much every person who ever lived here, he was always nice to me.
Tonight, around 7:30, I went out to run a quick errand and move my car. While I was locking my front door, I saw someone out of the corner of my eye. I watched as a man, a man who looked very much like Rasta Pasta, walk slowly past the house. I stood and watched him and was so sure it was him, I almost called his name. I don't know what I would have said to him if I had, but the urge was strong. Instead, I walked up the street to my car. As I was opening the car door, I noticed the man (Rasta?) had turned around and was walking back up the street towards me. He was looking right at me and walking in the middle of the road where the yellow line would be if my street weren't ripped up. And I kind of panicked. Why? I don't know.
And this is kind of the freaky part. I got in the car, started it, drove to the corner and waited to pull into traffic watching him in my rear view mirror the whole time--and he never moved! He was walking at a steady pace but he never seemed to get any closer. And he watched me the whole time in the most unsettling way. Finally, I took a risk and pulled out in front of a bus just to get away from him. Creepy.
Tonight, around 7:30, I went out to run a quick errand and move my car. While I was locking my front door, I saw someone out of the corner of my eye. I watched as a man, a man who looked very much like Rasta Pasta, walk slowly past the house. I stood and watched him and was so sure it was him, I almost called his name. I don't know what I would have said to him if I had, but the urge was strong. Instead, I walked up the street to my car. As I was opening the car door, I noticed the man (Rasta?) had turned around and was walking back up the street towards me. He was looking right at me and walking in the middle of the road where the yellow line would be if my street weren't ripped up. And I kind of panicked. Why? I don't know.
And this is kind of the freaky part. I got in the car, started it, drove to the corner and waited to pull into traffic watching him in my rear view mirror the whole time--and he never moved! He was walking at a steady pace but he never seemed to get any closer. And he watched me the whole time in the most unsettling way. Finally, I took a risk and pulled out in front of a bus just to get away from him. Creepy.
3 comments:
Definitely a zombie.
Annika. It would be hilarious even if I didn't hear that in your deadpan voice.
However, she does have a point. It is that time of year... Or maybe he's just been using up the stock from all the out of business medical mj clinics.
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