“One of these things is not like the other. One of these things just doesn’t belong.”
You know what I’m talking about. Here’s the follow-up post we’ve been waiting for.
I remember in one of my last posts, we talked about Mr. Jones, who sold Nazi symbol-bearing t-shirts at a local festival.
“But Missy K, you aren’t sure about that, you said yourself!”
Yes, indeed, dear reader, except I went for a walk. You must understand, I don’t like going for walks. It comes with not liking where I live and, well, not liking walking. But! We got the new dog, and a new dog needs to be walked, so I ended up outside at ten at night, walking the new terrier around and letting him get familiar with the neighborhood.
Why is this interesting? What does it have to do with Mr. Jones’ creepy wares?
Well, because of what I saw whilst walking our new doggo.
Yes, I came up with that of the top of my head.
I took that picture tonight, about a half-hour ago, when, after running the last block to my place, where my sister* was preparing a search party to come find me and the doggo. I don’t usually start things randomly, such as, “Hey, Sis, come outside, right now!” Or, “Yo, man, lemme borrow your phone, I’m just going up the street, stay right here!”
I think she’s learning to trust my randomnesses a little bit. She let me grab her phone (I still don’t have one) and walk a ways down the street to take some pictures.
Of course, because she and the littlest sister are just that, sisters, they didn’t want to stay right there and tried to follow me. I’m pretty sure this is how they will die.
“Save yourself, guys!”
“No, I want to see what you’re doing, wait up.”
Or something like that.
Back on-topic, I let them (quietly) come down with to gawk at the neighbor’s apartment. I don’t usually condone gawking. In fact, I don’t gawk, and I don’t eavesdrop to the point where you can have an entire conversation within ten feet of me and I won’t remember ninety percent of it. Gawking is rude, don’t gawk.
Unless your neighbor is flying the Nazi flag roundabouts. That’s a pretty good reason. Especially when it’s the house that gets regular DV runs from the cops. Not that I pay attention to that or anything.
All this, combined with the fact that all of the young people roundabouts seem dead set on there being Satanic worshipers here, the fact that you can’t become mayor without having been on City Council and can’t get on City Council without the approval of everyone already on City Council, and the fact that people had their kids wearing Nazi imagery around on their clothes, yeah, I get a little bit edgy. This isn’t even including some of the creepier stuff I know about this place.
(ADHD moment, feeling good since I have the long detective coats with fancy lapels and buttons and everything. I just need a good fedora, now.)
But this is why I don’t walk the dog. This is my luck. I’m the kid who finds a 50 Bani (Romanian currency) piece on the parking post at Rosauer’s at almost midnight. That’s me. I’m the kid who goes out of their way to not do dumb teenager stuff, no breaking into abandoned houses, no graffiti, no vandalism, no joyriding, nothing, I try my best to be boring. I can’t even walk the dog without stumbling on complete accident upon weird stuff. I don’t have to look for trouble, it does its best to cuddle up with me like some great shaved bear.
My life looks like a bad TV show in the wrong lighting. Let’s hope we get some nice incandescent bulbs soon.
*Sister Fio has a good sense for when I’m getting in trouble, generally. One time about a year back, when I was just starting learning German, I was trying out some songs for immersion and she just really hated one of them that I wasn’t particularly averse to. Later, upon finally finding the lyrics in English, we found out it was a neo-Nazi anthem-type thing. Fio’s good at sniffing out Nazis. It was really about the same few seconds that I was glancing up to see a Swastika in the window that she started getting ready to come look for me. She’s really got my back in that sense. S/O to Fio for being a really amazing person who can spidey-sense when I’m getting into trouble. Go Fio. Fio for president. She’ll sniff out the evils of our modern society.