The town in which I live is a very shady one. It’s really dirty and falling apart with really strange and weird people living here. So the other day I pulled up my street, parked, walked down the street and made my way towards my building. On the way there I noticed a homeless looking gentleman digging through our dumpster. Which was fine. I’ve seen him there before and was quite used to it. But then something happened…

As I passed he did something that he usually doesn’t do. He looked up and saw me. Not knowing what to do I just kind of smirked and put my blinders on, now speed walking to my building, not because I was scared, but because I hate awkward glance situations. But for some reason I had to look back. When I did he kind of smirked at me. Not the type of smirk that’s like “what is up bitches,” like the one I threw his way. This one was different. It was sort of the “if you don’t get your shit together soon you’re going to be like me” type of smirk. So I immediately looked away, my heart sunk into my stomach and I had one tear that ran down my face like the Indian guy who sees you throw an empty soda can on the ground…

Needless to say this freaked me the fuck out. But then again, maybe that wasn’t the smirk he was giving me. Maybe it’s just like one of those situations where you just got raped by a crack head in an alley, then miraculously all the songs you hear on the radio have to do with getting raped by a crack head in the alley. Even lyrics to songs you already knew by heart somehow get transformed into you getting fucked by a crack head in an alley. You see, I have been dealing with this whole “just got out of college, need to find an actual job and move on with my life” sort of deal and its equal parts tough and fucked up, so it sort of consumes my every thought.

So I calmed down and quickly wrote it off to one of those types of situations. Then I thought of something freaky…. What if that WAS the type of smirk he was going for? What if he knows my life story? What if he is really a messenger sent by whomever to get me motivated to do something with my life? Then every Monday at 4pm he checks back in to see how I’m progressing. Then if he doesn’t think I’m doing enough to try to develop a future he’ll break into my apartment and steal all my fucking cans. But in all reality he was probably just happy because he found an old VHS porn someone threw out that he’ll sell to a 5^th grader for a buck fifty. Then the 5^th grader will take it home and watch it, only to find it’s a tape of someone getting raped in an alley by a crack head.