Saturday 6 February 2010

I'm being stalked every dusk...

"Who are you?"
It was getting late - not so late as to become dark, but perhaps dusk. Becoming dusk?... No, it was dusky? Well, whatever.
It was late afternoon, and the sun was beginning to go away. It was, in fact, dusk. But this isn't the interesting part of this story. In fact, the interesting part stood about 4 foot behind me. It had stayed constantly about 4 foot behind me for the best part of 10 minutes, despite my ducking and diving. It was a he, and he was a middle-aged man, going grey and balding on the top of the hair department, dressed in a tweed suit, like Sean Connery in The Untouchables. So, this brings us back to the beginning of this exciting tale (mundane fictional blog).
 "I'm your new sidekick." He replied. Despite the fact he was clearly stalking me, and fabricating a relationship between us, he didn't sound altogether creepy when he told me who he though he was. Actually, he had a pleasing, reassuring tone. He seemed trustworthy, and - as the word implies - I was inclined towards trusting him. However, it occurred to me suddenly that he wasn't my sidekick - Max was in jail for illegally exposure towards a minor (from a mine, don't worry. Although he was a dwarf - a fantasy one, mind you), and I hadn't seen that superhero kid who used to follow me since the Keene act. So, with some worries, I turned towards the gent, and spoke:
 "Really? I'm afraid I don't know you, good sir."
 "Yes," He continued, "I've been sent to be your new sidekick. I'm a real person, with real personal traits and problems, to make your blog more mature and realistic."
 "Uh huh..." I uh huhed, declining to ask whom had sent him, "And these problems are...?"
 "Well, I dislike blacks and gays." He stated matter-of-factly. And suddenly, things got awkward. You know, more awkward than a middle-aged man following you.
 "But," He went on, "I'm forced to address these aspects of my personality when my son comes out of the closet and enters a relationship with a black man."
"Right," I backed off, "Well, good luck with that... Tackling your prejudices I mean, not the bigotry."
I continued to back off, until I hit the road. Turning, I ran into the traffic, dodging in and out of cars, until I was home. I shut the curtains and curled into a ball under my bed. Frankly, I can't be doing with any more sidekicks. I'll just end up pregnant.

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