cant sleep
the man stands one hundred and fifty foot tall; i mean this guy is BIG. well really he is only about 7 foot, but to me, only being 5 foot 5, this guy is a frigging giant.
its 5am, im standing in my boxers holding a carton of milk that i was just drinking out of. this massive dork looking kinda guy is standing in my kitchen staring at me. i dont know this guy, never seen this guy before in my life. i live alone in a one bedroom apartment, so finding a 7 foot dork in my frigging kitchen at 5 in the morning is a bit of a shock, even for me, a clown in a freak show. yeah well, how many of you can say that? this guy has the cardigan, the specks, the dodgy bowl haircut. if you have seen the film Napoleon Dynamite you kinda get the idea, just a lot taller and not so dorky.
so he is still standing there, i have had time to go through all the details with you and he is still just standing there staring at me. do i offer him some milk? not quite sure what the protocol is in this sort of situation. i guess im past the point where i shout and threaten to call the police, the moment has kinda past. could i just do it now, could i pull of the performance; wouldn't it be awkward though? but to be honest, dork or not, this guy could snap my neck like a twig before i even make it to the door, best not make any sudden movements.
'hi, hows it going?' i say. oh god he blinked, is he trying to communicate with me? 'listen, im not sure if you realise it or not but its 5am and your standing in my apartment' a few seconds pass as i stare at him; as he stares at me. In my mind i imagine a hand ticking onto the first second on an imaginary clock then taking forever to tock onto the next. two more of those intense and drawn out seconds go by as i subconsciously scrutinise his face. the surface of his face i imagine into the flat sands of a windless desert, his nose a sand dune, his ears... um, surrealism? his lips, his lips start to move; he is saying something to me, he is saying 'im not saying this is NOT your apartment. i dont want to argue with you or make you upset, but if you look to your left, on the table you will see a photo of me and my mother' my head snaps around to look at the framed photo on the table of the tall guy with his mother, snaps to look at the sofa in a colour i am not familiar with, snaps to the dull wallpaper i would never use, snaps back to the tall guy who has something in his hand, snaps to the rapidly approaching baseball bat he is swinging towards my head. oh shi...
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