Monday, October 21, 2002 One of the mixed blessings of being really funny-looking is that strangers assume that you're fair game to come and start befriending.
On Saturday, after a long day at the spy museum and a nice dinner, the mate and I were waiting for the metro, and the character described in my first post came up and attached himself to us. He wanted to know where "any goth clubs that [were]n't retarded" were.
We were like...uh...maybe in Shangri-la, dude. He decided, based on our failure to actually hit him, that we were all friends now. He rode past his stop so that he could keep jawing with us. I was afraid he was going to follow us home.
Realistically, he was more interested in the mate than he was in me, so I could have ducked into the shadows and escaped, but that seemed like poor form.
Beyond that, I was kind of fascinated with this ogre that had decided we were buddies. Kid was about 6'5" with that sort of mal-formed, rangy look people get sometimes when they're too tall for perfect functioning without teh addition of a hind-brain near their tails. He had some kind of godawful speech impediment, and he was wearing a black wool trench coat.
During the course of the interaction he disclosed several things:
He had joined the Navy, partially because (here he gestured around the crowded train car) "I want to protect these people. That's right, ma'am. I want to protect YOU!" after 9/11. Also, prior to signing up to join his fellow man, he'd just quit his job at the Men's Warehouse without notice, because his boss yelled at him.
"They got some nice suits there," the mate said.
"Yeah, but they're kind of pricey. You might be better off going to TJ Maxx...I mean, if you really know how to shop," said the friendly mutant.
He also told us he was in training to be in charge of nuclear submarines. The top secret ones.
He told us that the other kids in the Navy were Ok. "They're cool, you know. I mean, they're a lot like me," he said.
After we finally shook him, we decided that maybe somebody had just told him he was in the Navy as a way of getting someone to perform menial tasks for them. ("See this? It's a *nuclear* broom. Now get sweepin', you mongrel.")
Donald Duck always got stuck peeling potatoes, and they let this rogue out to fraternize. Ay yi yi yi yi.
posted by Frenz | 10/21/2002 07:45:00 PM
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