Physician, Eat Thyself

So I have this minor obsession with cannibalism. Not performing it, but having it performed on me. I’ve written about my zombie plague paranoia, and one of my very first posts on this here site mentioned a fear of this guy I passed on my walk to work wanted to attack and eat me.

Perhaps file this under ‘creating your own reality’…

I’m walking home last night, Jimmy Page soloing away in my ears. I’m getting ready to make that final hill into the hood and see this guy across the intersection also waiting for the light. He caught my attention because he had the same sort of mustache that Billy Crudup had in Almost Famous. We pass each other, and I can sense that he’s sort of checking me out.

A minute later he comes running up behind me yelling, “Sir? Sir?” I remove my headphones and look at him with the best ‘if you have a real question fine, but if you’re gonna ask me something stupid I’m gonna be pissed’ look. I thought I recognized something about him, but I didn’t realize until later that it was that cold fire in his eyes that spoke of bad knowledge. The same empty passion lit in the dozens of street crazies I had spoken with in San Francisco.

He asks if I’m a doctor. I say no, wondering what about my Navy surplus coat and (I’m sure) surly demeanor made him think I was a doctor. He asks if I’m sure, and I tell him that I am pretty positive.

He then asks if I know anything about the Bible. Ah, here it comes, I think. I tell him ‘a little bit’, and wait semi-patiently for the moment to tell him I am a Hindu and walk away from him.

He starts talking about Luke coming from a land where people ate each other, and honestly I lost track of what he was saying because I was busy trying to think of where to punch this guy should he get itchy.

I think he could tell I wasn’t really digging his lecture, because he pushed through the rest of it like the ex-mental patient he probably was. But he then ended it with pantomiming taking a big hunk of leg or arm and chowing down. And in case I didn’t get it the first time, he did it again with those earnest, crazy eyes begging me over his clenched hands to understand what he was trying to get across.

All the Led Zeppelin III in the world wasn’t going to make me less paranoid the rest of the trip home.