Shuffled [i]Heavy[/i]

[Boogus Epirus Aurelius]

I was a little confused and bent into sharp shapes last night, so I decided to go for a little drive and maybe see a movie or something.

I really love going to the movies. There’s that popcorn smell that just drips out of the carpeted walls and the sticky floors in the aisles makes that squelching sound underfoot and the low lights before the show starts is intoxicating when mixed with Sinatra standards and an overstuffed, overused flip down seat. God, I love it.

So, I had that in my mind entirely. 

I had about an hour to kill before showtime, so I decided to go stop by the drive-by ATM and pick up some cash for the ticket. I pulled up and went through the motions and two crisp twenties bled through those little metal pinchers.

At that point, I had about fifty eight and a half minutes until showtime so I decided to go stop by the local mexican bar and get a margarita and a taco. Why not, right, especially considering the place was right next to the bank.

I parked my car and realized I’d left my card in the machine.

Fifty seven minutes until showtime.

I started the car back up in a desperate attempt to get my card back before that machine swallowed it. When I got there the screen was empty and the buttons were locked out, waiting for another card.

Frustrated and struggling with an irrational and mounting paranoia, I drove out of the parking lot and onto the road. That’s when the guy in the trench coat started yelling at me.

I recognized this guy vaguely. And he was yelling towards my open window. Thinking he was trying to get me to pull up and throw a few bucks his way for a baggie of bad weed,  I waved him off.

He kept yelling.

I kept waving my hand in that non-committal way.

So, he started running towards my car, then alongside it as I drove down the street. This happened for only about half a block, but it was really weird. There’s this scruffy, pale kid in a black trenchcoat and it’s just billowing in three or four leathery folds as he’s bolting next to my car, pointing and yelling towards me. I don’t know.

He slowed down and made two final gestures my way with his hands as I turned the corner.
Shook it off and kept going. Fifty four minutes until showtime and seven minutes until that margarita.

My headlights were off. I noticed when I drove under a burned out streetlamp.
What a nice guy. I’m not sure if I’d ever chase someone like that for a courtesy like that.
But maybe I would.

[Socks]

I always drive to the movie theater with decent intentions and a firm commitment. I even arrive an hour or two in advance so as to purchase the ticket, in order to minimize the chance of dithering. And because I am one of those people who must psychotically watch time drawn near, and never watch time pass. One is a position of control, the other is a fool rushing through traffic and responsibility. Yet, as show time draws near and I become more intoxicated, those five bucks seem less and less compelling, and the movie become a burden. I have to exit my vehicle, walk to and inside the theater, invariably come into contract with people and have to interact with them, and then sit alone in the front lower seats of the theater, for fear of mingling and being near others. All of this while wearing a hat, because I can't take going to the movies seriously enough to care about who I really am. In the end, I just wind up smoking more weed and tossing the ticket into the trash.

[FAMY2]

He probably had your ATM card.   

[Hiro]

He probably had your ATM card.   

that's what I thought he was hinting at the whole time 

[Boogus Epirus Aurelius]

that's what I thought he was hinting at the whole time 

That would have been scary.

[Boogus Epirus Aurelius]

Also, how are you doing Hiro?

[Hiro]

Also, how are you doing Hiro?

I'm doing fairly well. Friend payed me $136 yesterday for my old phone I sold to her, and my first day of my first job starts in under 30 minutes.
How about yourself?