I'm still creeped out as I type this, but in an eerie, calm kinda way. I went up north to hear Not From Michigan Mike read at Twilight Tales tonight and got a lead on some other job involving printing, so that's cool. Then I bought a bag of fries at the McDonalds on Lincoln and Fullerton, thinking the girl in front of me had a Godzilla foot. Turns out her sneakers were the same color as the tiles. Then the older guy who takes my order has a look of sheer and utter terror on his face. Maybe it was because I was wearing a Cleveland Indians shirt I bought at Unique Thrift for $2.00 and is now my favorite shirt.
OK. This is still so weird. I'm admiring the full, yellow moon rising above DePaul University, eating my fries, looking at a girl with long black hair waiting with her bike on the northbound platform, me thinking, man, I am twice her age. I'm on the train then, reading BUTTON, BUTTON, a collection of short stories by Richard Matheson. I hear a guy behind me calling the CTA about how late the 87th bus goes to Cicero. I turn to tell him, because of course, I'm going the same route. But the guy looks just like Harry Fassl. Without the voice. Skull, head, smile. I knew the guy wanted to talk, even when we got on the bus eight miles to the south. I looked at him, thinking, Jesus, he has shoes like Harry, and Harry wore big shoes. As we walked past the Dominicks to points west, he finally turned to thank me again. I really think he was wondering why I was all gibbledy-gibbledy. I told him no problem, standing there under this full yellow moon in a deserted parking lot, thinking of all the times during the summer where I might have seen Harry & Diana...The Red Lion, their house at 1111 Scoville, having burgers at Goldy's before watching crappy movies about giant spiders. This guy of course walked faster than me, being tall and all, and I followed his path, and where I cut through the church parking lot to get home about a half-mile from the bus stop, I could see him several blocks ahead, like a giant tree moving in the shadows between the streetlights. And you know what? Harry would have loved hearing how creeped out I was.
