Midnight People
Long ago a teenaged me was walking down the street in the late hours of the day/ wee hours of the mourning with a half gallon of ice cream in tow. I did this frequently I found a nice walk and a prodigous selving of a frozen comestible did wonders for the spirit and was a good thing to do when sleep was elusive. This particular night I saw as I walk a lone figure headed in my general direction. I had the distinct thought "only weirdos are out walking around in the middle of the night" and I crossed the street. Three seconds later another distinct thought wanders through cavernous mind "wait, I am out wandering around in the middle of the night"
Years have gone by and I still find myself wondering the streets on the cusp of morning. Monday was one such occasion. I had biked to work but had gotten a flat tire on the way in and had completely forgotten about it until it was time to head home. At 11:00pm I began making some phone calls to see if I could get a ride with anyone, this turned out to be the most fruitless of endevers and by 11:30 I began trudging down the street.
As I walked I was hit up by and enibriated pan handler, I had a brief discussion with a couple about the hours of opperation of the local mass transit system, I attempted to walk through the drive through lane at a jack in the box, and I went to bree's. Bree's place is home of the midnight people. often when I go there nobody is at home and awake, because I don't keep late enough hours. Bree showed me her current art projects, we talked about school and summer and old times and old friends. I got a drink and continued my walk.
It would seem that a universal truth about midnight people is they don't have cars.
I left a note on the door of an old friend who as I walked by. Later I found out what it ment to her, maybe that note was the real reason I was walking for hours in the middle of the night.
who knows? I don't!
In the end the night keeps me sane. It makes me love sleep,and dreams,and the lumpy couch I sleep on, and maybe most of all, the morning
Years have gone by and I still find myself wondering the streets on the cusp of morning. Monday was one such occasion. I had biked to work but had gotten a flat tire on the way in and had completely forgotten about it until it was time to head home. At 11:00pm I began making some phone calls to see if I could get a ride with anyone, this turned out to be the most fruitless of endevers and by 11:30 I began trudging down the street.
As I walked I was hit up by and enibriated pan handler, I had a brief discussion with a couple about the hours of opperation of the local mass transit system, I attempted to walk through the drive through lane at a jack in the box, and I went to bree's. Bree's place is home of the midnight people. often when I go there nobody is at home and awake, because I don't keep late enough hours. Bree showed me her current art projects, we talked about school and summer and old times and old friends. I got a drink and continued my walk.
It would seem that a universal truth about midnight people is they don't have cars.
I left a note on the door of an old friend who as I walked by. Later I found out what it ment to her, maybe that note was the real reason I was walking for hours in the middle of the night.
who knows? I don't!
In the end the night keeps me sane. It makes me love sleep,and dreams,and the lumpy couch I sleep on, and maybe most of all, the morning
posted by a.lost.boy | 10:24 AM
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