Senor Strange

Senor Strange is a guy I've known in passing. Just an acquaintance for the most part. Someone you recognize by face at a party but you don't really know much more about them than their name and that the person is friends with some people you know. He's been here with us at the B Street house for months and he's turned out to be an OK room mate. There's been some minor hassles but nothing that hasn't been worked out quickly and without any bad energy as a result.

I first got to really talk to Senor Strange at a politically incorrect Halloween party. In the crowd at the Halloween gig there was a guy dressed up as "Polly's Abductor", and a guy who was calling himself Reginald Denny. The Reginald Denny guy glued a styrofoam brick to the side of his head. One guy showed up as a goofy redneck complete with a jug under his arm marked "SHITFIRE XXX". He had loaded up the jug with some kind of foul smelling booze and drank off it all night.

Mr. Strange was dressed up as a bondage fairy, or something to that effect. He looked completely ridiculous. The outfit he wore consisted of black Frankenstein heeled bitch boots that were laced all the way up just below his knees. He was clad in fishnet stockings, black bra, fishnet t-shirt, black hot pants, there were black feathery angel wings strapped to his back, and he had a crystal tiara perched atop his noggin. Senor Strange resembles the actor that played Agent Smith in The Matrix, so if you imagine Agent Smith dressed in the above attire you'll have a pretty close idea what he looked like that night. Oh and he was also carrying around a riding crop and a fifth of Southern Comfort, which he was sharing with anyone who wanted a swig from the bottle. I decided that Southern Comfort tasted like shit.

We were yapping about nothing getting drunk on the front porch of the house when Senor Strange decided he needed to explore the neighborhood. It wasn't a really great idea since this was a bad part of town. And it was an even worse idea to go tromping through the bad side of town on a weekend evening dressed like a complete freak. He never returned to the Halloween party.

Months later I bumped into the guy and asked what happened to him that night. Strange said he wandered down the road until he came across a bum sitting in a large bush. The bum asked him if he wanted to smoke some yellow powder. So, he crawled into the bush and smoked some unidentifyable substance. Who knows what it was. For all he knew it could have been a crushed up yellow piece of chalk. No matter. They smoked it. Then he walked across town and passed out face down in a busy intersection in front of a Jack In The Box hamburger joint. The last thing he remembered, he told me, was that a crowd of Mexican gangsta girls were standing around him in the street laughing and kicking him.

What a way to finish off a Halloween shindig.