Last night, Mr. Price and I walked home from a divey-but-comfy bar a few blocks away on Market, having met a friend for drinks, and having escaped truly obnoxious harassment by man so post-Stuperbowl drunk he was intensely drooling, whose fingers also appeared to be covered in someone else’s blood and who, after telling me how beautiful I was, refused to stop accusing me of being Norwegian: apparently, I can’t know my own national origins, but any drunken idiot passing by can have the inside scoop.

Upon getting home, I was exhausted: I’d started the day way early, biked through thigh-crushing Fremont hills almost upon waking — which was worth it, both for the cool light of morning rising over downtown, as well as for the hours I spent with a friend’s daughters watching this rockin’ display of awesome girl-powered cuteness — walked a ton, had a crappy early afternoon but a nicer late one, and the few drinks in there as well as starting to feel the impending migraine I unknowingly was developing (but which is now in full-swing) had just done me ragged.

So, Mark took the dog out as I prepared to go pass the fuck out, but he came back inside quickly saying something was on fire very nearby. I leapt up, ordered him to call 911, rushed through the house to be sure it wasn’t anything in here, then outside to sniff around the yard and walk like an overexcited bloodhound. There was bi smoke coming from somewhere, and there was a putrid smell, but it was hard as hell to place.

When I came around front a’sniffin’, this man was standing on the walk near where Mark was. I asked if he saw the smoke and he responded that yes, something seemed to be on fire. I all but blinked and he was gone…[i]which has been my experience with this guy three times previous to this[/i].

“That was so surreal!” I exclaimed, and Mark seemed to think I meant the burning thing passing away quickly. So, I clarified.

“That was Random Commentary Guy!” I said. Mark just looked at me funny, which, while a constant, does also sometimes mean he just doesn’t understand me.

I explained further. The ONLY times I have seen this man, always right in front of the house, are at times when I will putter outside the house asking some sort of stupid or obvious question aloud, and there he is, with some random commentary and then he is GONE. Vanished. Can’t even see him walking down the street.

I do not see him at the coffeeshops. I do not see him when I’m out walking the dog, or going to the market. I do not see him when I have come outside with nothing to say at all. I ONLY see him when clearly, some form of random, passing commentary is required, and only for the brief moments in which it is required.

Random Commentary Guy isn’t creepy, either. There’s nothing aggressive about his presence I pick up on, even though it’d seem there’d have to be something that felt aggressive about only seeing a guy you don’t know show up right at your front steps to answer your odd questions. He’s youngish, physically solid as hell, has a loose black ponytail, soft almond-eyes, looks either Native or Chicano, and has an even voice that is deadpan, almost disintersted, but oddly comforting. In fact, I’d say there’s something about him that feels mystical, rather than menacing.

But it does boggle the mind. For a good hour later, I was all, “Who IS Random Commentary Guy? Where does he come from? How does he know to show up here — do I have some sort of bat-signal I don’t know I’m transmitting directly to him, maybe even waking him from a nice nap? Does he want to give random commentary, or is he oddly or forcibly compelled to go where it is needed? How much of this poor guy’s time is taken up by this, and how many of us assholes is he providing this service for? Should I offer him some sort of gift? A sacrifice? Should I start asking more interesting questions? Or should I just give the dude a break and only ask my dumb questions inside from now on?”

I don’t know. But I betcha that if I stepped outside right now and asked this aloud, he’d show up with something to say about it.

filed under Heather Corinna | home
posted on Monday, February 5th, 2007 at 7:51 pm

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