Last night, my neighbor upstairs talked with me on my way out.  She said that when talking with others, she refers to me as, “the creature of the night,” as she only usually sees my fedora hooded head passing by when she takes a smoke on her patio in the early AM ticks and tocks.


“What a coincidence…that’s what I have on my business cards…”


So I went searching for some old neighbor friends that used to live near me on compass…but whom I lost contact with.  There’s a bar they teneded to frequent on weekdays, so I went there.  On my way in, I noticed the entrance crawling with extra, befuddled security staff…this surely meant something interesting was afoot (this is the same joint that I witnessed a fight between two girls last year…where in one lady bit a chunk of flesh off of the upper chest of another lady…nice place).


One security guard looks in my direction (while I’m still a distance away) and gets the attention of the others.  An accusing finger is pointed.




“Hey big-guy, you’re not getting in,” says the biggest guard.


“O . . . K?”


Then the guard that originally noticed me blinked a few times and said, “No…he’s alright.  Let him in.  That’s not him.”  The rest of them looked me over a bit more closely and in I went.


What I got out of further murmurs was that someone looking like me had caused some kind of trouble (and that means something at this place) and they were on the look out for his return.


My only worry was that some patron would confuse me too and my drinking would be interrupted by some guy yelling, “It’s you!  You killed my brother you bastard!!!” punctuated with a chair to my head.


No chairs to the head.  No old neighbors.


This creature of the night went back home and spent the rest of the darkly hours going through his music library and putting together a soundtrack to his thesis.


I just finished it now – roughly 400 songs to listen to while I finish writing this thing.


Now I’m off to Andiamo’s for come coffee and some writing.


And by the by – if you see me in the near future – and I do something really awful – it might not be me…