Seeking Normal

We’re not in the movies, you’ve never seen us, you don’t know us, but you know we’re there. Like when you see something out of the corner of your eye, but you turn around and I’m not there. You tell yourself it’s your imagination, but you know it’s not, or … maybe the astrologists were right, but you don’t believe in astrology or psychics, or any of that bullshit. You believe in mentalism, numbers, science, so you stop and think. People who drink too often or under the influence of other drugs see things that aren’t there because… something about neurons or synapses or something.

So, you think … did you have anything to drink? No. Did you smoke or snort anything? You’ve never taken illegal drugs, smoked, or drank anything. Ever. You’re the definition of dull or boring. You have a 9 - 5 job, 2 cars in the garage, pay your bills on time. You’re the definition of norml. So, you keep walking. You’re in a safe, well lit area and you’re walking home from a visit from your friend’s house. He doesn’t use drugs and we had a good visit. You drank water from the fridge. Filtered water. All the water in this neighborhood is filtered. You start laughing. Not drunk or high laughing; laughing at yourself for seeing monsters out of the corner of your eye. You’re 47 years old. This is something a child would say; Monsters in the night indeed.

So, you walk, maybe a bit faster or slower than before, but I make it a you aren’t sure which. Then, you sense something behind you. You don’t sense things; that’s Hollywood bullshit, but you turn around anyway, but there’s nothing there, like when I make a coin disappear into your lap. You look down and the sidewalk is concrete. Doesn’t make sense. Next thing you know you start talking to me like someone in the psyche ward, but you’ve never been to the looney bin. But you ask, “Hello?” AS though I’ll answer. I never answer. I feed off of fear. Besides, you’re on “Candid Camera” but you can’t find the cameras? Maybe “Big Brother” isn’t watching.

You start breathing faster, bp increases, you start shaking, like a diabetic low on blood sugar. You just ate and don’t have diabetes. You’re on the cusp of crying, so you take deep breaths like the counselor from grade school taught you a billion years ago. Then you find yourself crying and laughing simultaneously, but sane people do that. You stop, breathe, gain control, get ahold of yourself. This is a well lit, safe neighborhood. People walk their dogs at night here all the time. You wipe your tears with your sleeves. You’re fine. Probably didn’t get enough sleep last night, but you think about last night and you got eight hours of sleep. And how do I know that? Easy, some of my spooky powers are mind reading and reading your vital signs. I could be an EMT, but this is more fun.

You look around and see nothing unusual. Your heard birds and crickets. Then, I make a street light go out when you walk by it. You shrug it off, but as you walk past, it turns back on. You walk back towards it and it turns off. Your head back and ask, “Hello?” But nobody answers. Must be something. You’re almost home, but then you start feeling vertigo. You think to yourself. Must be dreaming. Pinch yourself and you’re awake. Doing highs and drunks isn’t as fun. Much better to fuck around with normls.

You start crawling like an infant. You can crawl a few blocks over pavement. You got rubbing alcohol and bandages at home. Just make it home. You can make it home. I’ll let you home, right? You don’t believe in God, but you pray to one anyway. I’m not sure what would be funnier: watching your wife and kids freak out by seeing you the way you are now or watching your wife and kids freak out because it’s past midnight, you aren’t home, and aren’t capable of answering your cell phone, but I’ll figure it out soon.

See, I get off on shadenfrueda: “happiness at the misfortune of others”. Think of it like watching a tv show or a video game but I always win. Like playing poker with no risk.

But I decide to let you make it to the steps of your porch. Why anybody would ever want steps is beyond me, but it’s a funny obstacle; those and man holes. I’m the d I’m dmsm. Your wife may be smart enough to turn on the porch lights or she may call 911 and have the police call her a complete idiot. That would make my day. One time I had a CNA call the cops on a stuffed animal, who was under the blankets and the police told the teddy bear to freeze. That made me smile. Like what else would the teddy bears do?

But then, your goddamn dog starts barking and you have the hint of a smile and a hint of hope. Maybe, just maybe your wife or kids will hear the dog and look at what Ben is barking at or maybe they’ll yell at Ben, tell Ben they’re worried sick about you and you’re distracting them, so your family yells at Ben, puts him in his cage, and texts you, but you can’t reach your cell phone in your right pocket. Maybe God is my right hand man or maybe God’s a woman or maybe neither. Or maybe I’ve partnered with Satan or maybe Satan’s fictitious. Right now, you don’t fucking care, you just need … an ambulance. Or somebody to open the fucking front door, but no one does. Your family will put out a missing person report and they’ll check their emails, but they won’t visit their neighbors for help. There aren’t any more faces on milk cartons. You’ll pray to pass out to eliminate the pain, but I’ll keep nibbling on my popcorn and enjoy the show.