A few years ago I was walking toward my Brooklyn apartment on Ashland Place from Flatbush Avenue one night. As I neared the intersection of Ashland & Fulton, near my apartment, I noticed that there were far more people not only in the neighbourhood than usual, but far more than would be on Ashland at that time of night. An elderly couple passed me & of their conversation I'd registered something to the effect of "...rats of great size" was mentioned. Then a man passed & told me to watch out for the rats. Though rats weren't uncommon, it was odd that someone would tell me to watch out for them, but I wasn't really paying much attention.
Then I saw them. But instead of "rats of great size", what I saw were two large rabbits -- the size of sheep. One gave me the impression I should climb on it's back. Doing so, I rode past the shocked crowds toward my apartment.
Next morning, I'm bilking some tourists out of some cash in one of the best parts of Brooklyn when a man, an enemy, as I recall, crouched & leveled an automatic weapon at me. He fires. Instinctively, I attempt to elude the bullets -- to no avail. I see them, four, for only an instant before they hit, spiraling toward me.
The impact was not terribly hard, but certainly noticeable, as the bullets entered my right side: first, just above my hip; the second, third & fourth, in a relatively straight line downward, just left of my femur. I lose consciousness.
Later, after regaining consciousness, I look down to where the dull pain comes from to find little blood. One of my tourists of three or four offhandedly suggests we go to a hospital. I don't argue.
This, naturally, takes time. But the shooter, also, is still after us. When we finally arrive at hospital, I am ushered to a room. I now notice the bleeding has stopped.
The upper most bullet, the doctor tells me, has hit no important organs -- good -- & those below had fallen into muscle -- not even nicking the femur. I'm overjoyed, as I have to get to another job, & the commute is murder.
This job was at Ken Grap's Chevron station in San Jose California with a man I'd worked at Joe Cetwinski's Chevron in Napa California. Ken was not there this evening, & I knew he was soon to go out of business.
After taking money from a self-serve customer, I walked to what is the north end of the s-s island of Ken's now demolished station on Moorpark Avenue to get the customer's change. I looked up in the sky as, it had become quite dark, & told the other employee working with me that he should turn on the lights. At this point, I saw a ball of stars circled by a ring of other stars; they looked like Saturn. It began first to revolve, then to move about as would a UFO. I asked my partner if he was seeing this, & he said he was. Each of us were fascinated by this sight.
I looked back into the sky to see this "planet" of stars continue to move toward, away & back & forth through space. Then it stopped, the ring disappeared & the "planet" began to spew stars from one point on it's surface near its equator. Suddenly, the whole sky changed from a few stars & planets to all sorts of stars & planets, with one addition: There were now numerous video game aliens & space ships filling my entire vision.
Later, I was working yet another job. This one in a very strange hamburger place which appeared to be Everything Yogurt on Third Avenue near East 57th Street in NYC. The manager had me work about ten minutes at each station & there were a lot of strange things going on there that I cannot describe.
One part I can remember clearly, came later. I looked up from where I was behind the stove to see the manager grimacing over what he called a worm crawling on the wall. Everyone in the room was franticly waving their arms & yelling things to the effect of killing it, but I walked over saying that it is a living thing, & that I would take care of it.
It turned out to be a green caterpillar. The manager said something vaguely encouraging, & I removed the caterpillar from the wall. After another strange sequence in the rear hallway, I finally got it outside where it had a much better chance of survival.
As I came back inside, I decided to wash my hands -- a very uncommon act in a restaurant at that time in NYC. I stepped into the room marked "Co-operation Restroom". I had been in one of these twice before.
As I stepped through the door, I was immediately engulfed by very thickly placed, alternating black & clear, strips of plastic hanging from the ceiling. These strips moved me round, & I could hear the hiss of an air conditioner & feel cool air moving round me through the strips.
I swayed back & forth for some time without finding the door to the restroom. Soon I heard what sounded like voices either very far away or nearby & whispering. I mumbled, "May I have some co-operation, please?" At this point, I looked down at the floor knowing the I should look up to see where all of the strips go. But, looking down, I finally saw a pair of feet & calves, & as I looked up, the strips had completely disappeared, & before me was a very pregnant woman in a rust coloured pant suit uniform.
She asked, "Yes?," putting her arm round & behind my head, pushed me backward slightly so as to sit me on the arm of a sofa, & she sat on my lap.
I asked her where the restroom is, & she pointed it out asking why I hadn't found it on my own. She then asked if I had seen the woman on the phone & pointed to my left. I replied that I hadn't seen anything but the strips. To which she said, "Oh, if you had stood at the door & looked before coming in, you'd have seen her."
I soon returned to my hovel in Brooklyn.
No comments:
Post a Comment