So, I went to the gift shop . . . nothing I really wanted to buy . . .just kind of browsing for local trinket keepsake items. There was a cashier, a young blond gal about 30-34, fairly pretty, but rough around the edges (like the type you oft may come across in family-run road houses/gift shops along the interstates and such). And I could sense right away she was part of the family-run operation. We had small talk, then she came out from behind the counter and led me back to one of darker areas of the ramshackle establishment. And she started getting a bit too engaging (conversationally) . . . and then quickly a big bearded dude (I assumed, probably her brother, or cousin, also part of the family-run establishment) showed up, as if looking for what she was up to, as if she was "trouble" and there was also another rough-looking in-house dude following. Regardless of these guys, I was already suspecting I was being led into some sort of a trap and was already pulling away and thinking about my little compact motor bike left down in that dark, overhung place/semi-garage dank ground level entry area where fellow travelers and locals were still hanging loosely about, and imagining I might need to make a getaway, though I thought about it . . . driving the lone, cold night roads, perhaps running out of gas and in bigger trouble, so decided to wait out the increasingly foreboding scene. . . .
Indeed, I was still concerned about getting on my way and increasingly nervous that the new transport team was never going to arrive.
I pulled away and went down to that hang-out area . . . and, of all people "Stuttering John" (an early intern and character from the early Howard Stern radio days . . . was there, also rooting and hanging about.)
[sidenote: "Stuttering John" Melendez . . . has become a bit of a thing. It's called "The Dabbleverse" ... and I would really need to do a podcast interview or something like that to explain it. But trust me, I wouldn't be "following" it, if there wasn't some merit in it. BASICALLY.... he is a class-A "malignant narcissist" . . . alcoholic, "has-been" that never was.... OY it's a long story... Well, and my take on him (unlike any other takes that have been proffered) is that he is a concise specimen of a demon-infested, anti-Christ, lost, headed-for-hell self-centered, delusional, disgusting, blasphemous (like evil always is when it manifests) epitome/nadir of the typical Godless, God-hating, Jesus-hating fools that are in abundance, and have been since The Fall.]
[I suspect you who are reading this have no knowledge of "the dabbleverse" or "stuttering john" . . . but just, for purposes of carrying on the recitation of this epic dream, know that he ("stuttering john") is a classic, text-book narcissist (well, and I have long thought that THAT term, "narcissist" is being thrown around way too loosely, just like "racist" and all the other lazy, weaponized social-distracting, disparaging terms.) BUT IN THIS CASE (and trust me, I have longtime experience sussing such people out, before it was "a thing") IT IS APT and informative where we have a perfect specimen of that growingly ubiquitous personality condition.]
So, turns out, "Stuttering John" was one of the various scruffy, greasy, loitering, slightly annoying characters who also was hanging around that station. He was dogging me the whole time, coming up too close, sweaty, greasy, too manic trying to get my attention but having nothing relevant to say, and I several times actually had to politely kick him in the chest away from me. He took it well the first couple times, sorta playing along, yet he persisted getting too close, but on the third time--after I was fed up with his sticking around and following me, telling stories, trying to grab my hands, put his head close to mine with arm around shoulder, continuously glomming on me--I kicked him away and he suddenly became nasty, dirty, angry. I was just trying to wait around for the next transport, amidst the others waiting around, but getting ever more having a sense that something was not right in the situation.
I finally got away from him, and went back to mingling with the other characters who were lolling about that under deck/garage entry of the old mill/station/hotel. And saw my little fold-up mini-motorcycle, scooter thing there amidst the others' luggage and various old garage car parts, hotel appurtenances, miscellaneous items, still un-molested--thankfully! because I'm now starting to think I might need to gas it up and get out of that dusty old waystation, and try to make it back home.
Milling about, I suddenly noticed across the way, beyond the dirt frontage road and train tracks, I saw in the waterway a flurry of boats coming up, intent, fanning out. A couple of the other wayfarers stood up and looked along with me. Quickly I noted that they were not vacationers or random boaters, but were all of type, green uniforms, green boats, the "military-aged dudes" . . . were obviously something new blaring into the once traditional bucolic homeland rural area.
I said, "those look like Chinese military." Everyone took more notice and mumbling, seemed to agree it was a strange lot. THEN, military style jeeps and vehicles were coming up the frontage road near us, jumping out and rushing toward and accosting any civilians that happened to be casually about.
A sense of alarm picked up among us as we observed and tried to focus on what actually was underway. I thought to grab my motor-bike and get away . . . but, there was not time for that, for within but a few minutes, they were now aggressively approaching and beginning to swarm the hotel/station we were at.
I bolted up the old stairwell back towards the lounge/gift shop/Mormon library room where the old owners had just been holding court, thinking to possibly hide. . . .
-------------------
[Sorry, lol, it looks like this will end up a bit of a novella! I will continue through my roughly jotted notes, fwiw, and next we get into the part where the Chinese invasion and camps eventuated....]
No comments:
Post a Comment