Sad Vibe

I have a sad vibe right now. Very heavy and strong.

I just saw someone I thought I recognize. White SUV. but I don't know if that's where it's from. but I am wondering what's going on.

I don't know why he didn't just come in because he obiously knows where I am. Should have, should still, come in.

I got up and walked over to the window. I was right there.

That is it.

But maybe that doesn't mean anything. I don't know anything.

I don't get it. How can something so wrong be it? I must be out of it. Maybe I need to make frantic phone calls again.

Just kidding.

Just playin' with y'all.

I do have a call to make and it's East Coast.

No, I need to call Alvaro.

This other guy looked like someone I used to see in Wenatchee when I was walking back from my visits with my son now and then. A local I think but I don't know who he is. Right side of the SUV. Sometimes wanted to stop and talk but never did. I heard he was messed up, from someone else in town. But I never knew him well enough to know. I was going to stop him once, but never did. Always thought I'd have a peace of mind or someone would reassure me about but no one ever did. I just heard bad things. A couple of good things but not much. But anyway, he had this dark brown hair that was spikey on the top. and then it got worse. I heard his nickname was "Buffy". Unfortunately for me, I thought "Buffy" was sort of hot. Everybody, apparently, called him Buffy and he doesn't even go by his own real name and I don't even know what his real name is. No one knew. They just called him "Buffy". He had some kind of roundhouse kick with some kind of toe technique so they called him Buffy. I don't know if people thought his toes were buff. It was some guy over at Wally's who told me.

My guess is that he's out saving the world, toes to the wind. Athlete's foot deodorizer in backpack.

Alvaro is saving the world too, in his own way. His method is more subdued. He has a hidden weapon that only comes out at night after he's been well-fed. He tries to be so sophisticated but if you only heard him belch. It's the loudest belch I've ever heard and he's always trying to be a man of decorum, until he's had a large dinner and one too many drinks. Play "Papparazzi" (Lady Gaga) and he's off dancing throwing in a belch here and there. He has some real gigilo moves. He hits a nice falsetto when he's singing the chorus. "Papa-paparazzi...baby, you'll be famous, chase ya down 'til ya love me, paparazzi...I'm your biggest fan, I'll follow you until you love me, baby, there's no superstar..." He has a good swing thing with a velvet rope. He once yanked one off of the curtains and started whipping it around as his head was thrown back, "PAPA-PAPARAZZI...!" Then he thought it was hot in the room so he stripped down to his skivvies and forgot he was in his underwear and went back out into the main room where Henry was and Henry told him to go put some clothes on. i think Henry wanted to strangle him with that rope.

Henry got into it after a few more drinks. There was a little more warming up for him to do. Henry kept asking me which shirt looked better. The white one or the color one. I didn't know. We were at the house and it didn't even matter but he forgot. He actually forgot no one else was going to see him there. He kept asking, over and over again, which shirt looked better and then bustin' a few moves here and there in the middle of his frickin' wardrobe changes. They wanted to go bowling like that. A little bit wasted and I said, "I don't know". I figured the bowling balls were going to be all over the place and not even in the lane at all. I just saw a lot of bruised toes as the ball landed backwards in a strut up to the lane.

So we stayed home that night, and they played "pretend bowling" which is like wii-bowling but without the wii. The funniest part is hearing Alvaro's accent as he mimics the papparazzi song and tries to make a nice smooth falsetto soprano. Then, Henry apparently had some ballet training in his youth, because he was twirling. He would do one really cool twirl and then a nice plie and then look at me and say, "Does this shirt ride up when I lift my arms?" and "Can you see the sweat marks under my arms? maybe the darker shirt?" I was like wardrobe manager with the deodorant ready.

Okay, I'm totally kidding.

Then there's this other guy who wants to keep everything in reserve, so he says.

Oh, there are about 10 of em. At least 10, all with secret weapons.