Writing in the back room I heard the motion detector, followed by the sounds of a voice, and stuff on my work bench being moved around. First thing I see is the ubiquitous homeless shopping cart train (two tied together and loaded) blocking the middle of my big doorway on the sidewalk. Near my work bench to the right, the Captain of the ‘Good Ship Lollipop’ outside rummaged around my bench. He wore a full length raggedy trench coat, gloves, and stocking hat. It’s cool up here in
“What do you think you’re doing, Bud?” I ask, having already stuffed my 900,000 volt stun gun into my belt at the back (I could use blog material, but I need to be intact in order to type).
The Captain whipped around, tilted his head, and gave me a surly look like I was the one rooting around in someone else’s shop. I notice he’s sporting a black eye patch; but it’s tilted up, revealing a good eye. Well… arrrrrrrhhhhh, matey. He flips the patch into place when I start smiling. The Captain then rapid fires forty seconds of gibberish, including hand waving, and facial contortions. I see his hands empty of booty, and coat pockets flat, so I gesture at the door with a wave.
“I have no idea what you just said. Get out.”
“I’m lookin’ for scrap!” the Captain finds his communicator, but holds on to the attitude.
“I have a regular metal guy who picks up all my scrap, and he never walks into my place like he owns it,” I reply, still waving him to the door.
The Captain puts his head down, squares his shoulders, leans forward, and with his fists pumping downward with each step, walks toward the ‘Good Ship Lollipop’. He heaves ho, and overcomes his ship’s inertia, with hands at the rudder. The Captain casts his one-eyed salty look at me sideways before disappearing from view.
“$*%& you!” The Captain bids me adieu, and sails out of sight. :)