The Truth behind the Facade
It's amazing what you'll discover if you'll only step out of your box, your grind of normality. There's a Whole World, believe it or not, going on at spectacular speeds just beyond your line of vision.
Case in point:
Last night at around, oh, 11:28 --I suddenly got this familiar jumpy feeling. It started as a little niggle in the back of my head, twitched into life and shot a direct jolt into the soles of my feet, being roughly translated as: "itchy feet". (no, no, no. not ACTually itchy. Think Outside the box, it's a metaphor)
I wanted to Get Out in wide spaces. Breathe the fresh Air...I was a little hungry too. I've been firmly planted in the house for the past week, I take my responsibility seriously, all which I've recounted earlier.(Today is D-Day, rejoice with me)
So I jump into the van (I use the term loosely, as this van could also be called "rust bucket", "very large, trucklike-object" and, "menace of the road")with my faithful buddy, Crass, and two by two like little Speckled Lemurs on Noah's Ark we bump and roar our way down the road to...(heavenly noises, chorus, and lights) --Wal-MART!
(Here's where things get interesting)
Now, I don't know if you've ever BEEN to Wal-Mart at 12:00 midnight. If you've never BEEN, period, you'll be scratching your head, "Ju frelick Walmart atte??" (lucky you)
Well the first thing you'll notice at this ungodly hour, is the unsettling non-presence of large women wearing tents and curlers, the boom of car stereos as they go round, and round...and...round, the hustle and bustle that makes Wal-Mart the town square market of the Millennium is lacking.
The next thing you notice, or rather, that crosses your mind as you're standing in line to purchase your booty, is: "What are these Other Customers doing here?...I mean, I've got a perfectly legitimate excuse -- my life has Never been normal, I'm used to doing things a little wacky, the rest, obviously not." They begin looking like criminals and cutthroats, you start speculating as to what their story might be and what brought them to this unfortunate end, which jail they broke out of..and of course, they're All on Drugs. (This is the deep, character study part of my story. Human life, at it's worst, as seen through the eyes of one who has the best. If any of this offends your sensibilities, I suggest you get down on your knees and ask God for some compassion)
Another thing that strikes you strongly is the Workers. If you've seen Wal-Mart workers in ordinary day-hours, yes, they may be slightly offbeat but at Night - at Night it's a whole 'nother batch. I like to think they ship them in as soon as the sun sets, backing the trucks up to the door, letting them spill out into the store, they've never seen daylight. They shuffle about, restocking shelves, pushing carts back in place, muttering under their breath. Their hair is thinning, eyes yellow-tinged, skin pallid and ever-so-slightly translucent. They stare at you, with your bright eyes, and glowing skin as if --if you were an energy drink, they'd drink you.
This whole Other World goes on beneath your nose, you never know of it, until you step out of your ordinary schedule.
We sat there, Speckled Lemur Crass and I, on their wooden benches, eating our honey buns. Laughing profusely and talking animatedly of pirates and crossbows, gorgons and screech owls. That's when the elderly doorman walked up, checking to make sure we weren't on drugs. Two worlds I tell you, Two Worlds.
Ironic, huh?
Case in point:
Last night at around, oh, 11:28 --I suddenly got this familiar jumpy feeling. It started as a little niggle in the back of my head, twitched into life and shot a direct jolt into the soles of my feet, being roughly translated as: "itchy feet". (no, no, no. not ACTually itchy. Think Outside the box, it's a metaphor)
I wanted to Get Out in wide spaces. Breathe the fresh Air...I was a little hungry too. I've been firmly planted in the house for the past week, I take my responsibility seriously, all which I've recounted earlier.(Today is D-Day, rejoice with me)
So I jump into the van (I use the term loosely, as this van could also be called "rust bucket", "very large, trucklike-object" and, "menace of the road")with my faithful buddy, Crass, and two by two like little Speckled Lemurs on Noah's Ark we bump and roar our way down the road to...(heavenly noises, chorus, and lights) --Wal-MART!
(Here's where things get interesting)
Now, I don't know if you've ever BEEN to Wal-Mart at 12:00 midnight. If you've never BEEN, period, you'll be scratching your head, "Ju frelick Walmart atte??" (lucky you)
Well the first thing you'll notice at this ungodly hour, is the unsettling non-presence of large women wearing tents and curlers, the boom of car stereos as they go round, and round...and...round, the hustle and bustle that makes Wal-Mart the town square market of the Millennium is lacking.
The next thing you notice, or rather, that crosses your mind as you're standing in line to purchase your booty, is: "What are these Other Customers doing here?...I mean, I've got a perfectly legitimate excuse -- my life has Never been normal, I'm used to doing things a little wacky, the rest, obviously not." They begin looking like criminals and cutthroats, you start speculating as to what their story might be and what brought them to this unfortunate end, which jail they broke out of..and of course, they're All on Drugs. (This is the deep, character study part of my story. Human life, at it's worst, as seen through the eyes of one who has the best. If any of this offends your sensibilities, I suggest you get down on your knees and ask God for some compassion)
Another thing that strikes you strongly is the Workers. If you've seen Wal-Mart workers in ordinary day-hours, yes, they may be slightly offbeat but at Night - at Night it's a whole 'nother batch. I like to think they ship them in as soon as the sun sets, backing the trucks up to the door, letting them spill out into the store, they've never seen daylight. They shuffle about, restocking shelves, pushing carts back in place, muttering under their breath. Their hair is thinning, eyes yellow-tinged, skin pallid and ever-so-slightly translucent. They stare at you, with your bright eyes, and glowing skin as if --if you were an energy drink, they'd drink you.
This whole Other World goes on beneath your nose, you never know of it, until you step out of your ordinary schedule.
We sat there, Speckled Lemur Crass and I, on their wooden benches, eating our honey buns. Laughing profusely and talking animatedly of pirates and crossbows, gorgons and screech owls. That's when the elderly doorman walked up, checking to make sure we weren't on drugs. Two worlds I tell you, Two Worlds.
Ironic, huh?
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