The Uninvited Dinner Guest: A Horror Story
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| Photo Credit: Sifu Renka on Flickr |
This is the scene I envision when I think of a story my friend Cecilia tells. She didn't describe those specific details, but that's because her version of this tale is overshadowed by the events that followed. Twilight had just fallen on the city, and a light breeze was in the air. She and her boyfriend-interviewee entertained each other with stories that proved their candidacy for Mr./Ms. Wonderful — She was probably speaking in the gentle southern accent that men find so charming when it happened: A bug landed on her.
Now, this woman is one cool customer, so she handled the situation with utmost grace. She casually brushed it from her arm and continued her tale about some exploit in her fabulous life. But the intruder didn't go away. It stuck to her elbow. She glanced down to discover that she'd been attacked by the creepiest, hairiest, most reviling creature she'd ever seen. It was the size of a golf ball and looked like something you'd find in a terrarium at the zoo.
"Wha... wha... what the hell is it? WHAT THE HELL IS IT?" she shrieked, two octaves above her normal tone. It was a rhetorical question. She didn't wait for anyone to venture a guess before she hopped out of her seat and danced around flapping her wings.
She flailed wildly like a person drowning while chanting, "Get it off! Get it off! Get it off! Get it off!" It was almost like prayer. Finally, she turned to a different direction in the wind, and her call was answered. The uninvited dinner guest fell free. It didn't run or fly. It danced like a tumbleweed as the breeze carried it down the sidewalk to some other unsuspecting victim.
What was it, all the diners, and waiters, and passersby in her audience wanted to know. That's when one of the gawkers solved the mystery. He'd just walked past a homeless man upwind — He was cleaning out his hairbrush.
Now close your eyes and imagine yourself in your happy place. I know wherever that is sounds better.
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I love it.
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Was the guy greyish-blond, with a "I [heart] Carmel" duffelbag? Please advise. We haven't heard from my brother in a while.
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Could be, but it's so hard to focus on duffelbags when you have a giant hairball on your arm.
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