I frequent a nearby park most nights to get some much needed exercise. There’s a nice path that circles around the inner workings (your sports areas, child injury zones, etc). It’s usually a pretty standard experience. I nod politely at other out-of-shape blobs, smile at dogs out for a stroll, push people off their bicycles. Usual stuff. But tonight was a bit different.

As I made my third or fourth lap around the park, I spied a man headed in my direction. He was the definition of nondescript.* As I ambled down the path, I noticed he had something slung over his right shoulder. It was dark, so any further investigation was limited. Perhaps it was a backpack. BUT PERHAPS NOT!

Either way, I passed by him without incident. As I made my way around, I did not run into him again as you might expect from two people circling in opposite directions. Odd, maybe, but I figured he had headed off in another direction. He had probably gone home. Or to the nearby gas station. WRONG I WAS, DEAR READER! HOW WRONG I WAS!

Nearing the spot where we had last crossed, the man strolled from out of the dark brush, whatever he was doing obscured from sight. He casually lit a cigarette and began to walk back from whence he came. That possible backpack? I saw it no longer, dear reader. Whatever it might have been, he had sent it off into the night.

Now, I’m a curious sort. It’s in my nature to wonder about these things. It would have been so easy to go and take a look in the dark corners of the park. Spy upon what he had done/left. Oh how I wanted to. But I did not. “Why?” you ask? Well, it was all in that cigarette.

You can watch someone smoke a cigarette and learn all you need to know about their mood/lifestyle in those moments. I always look bitter. Angry at the world.**

This guy? This was the smoke of a mad genius. A maniac celebrating his misdeeds. I couldn’t see his eyes, but he radiated the glow of a man reveling in post-coitus. Evil coitus.

Needless to say, I didn’t look in the bushes and immediately went home. I’m awaiting news reports of a severed head found near my house.

Hey, Kids! It’s Complete Fake Movie Star Meet-Up Time!

I met DJ Qualls at an airport.

Nice guy.

fin

*read: I don’t feel like describing him
**Before you say anything, I quit about a year ago. No need to nag me.