But! To the point! The main feature of today, which may not amuse you as much as it amused me. Today, I was in a duel. A social duel. A duel or duality, of sorts. Theres this man I see walking home most afternoons. He is the only regular that ignores me everytime. He always smokes, has short graying brown greying hair, jeans and a blue work top. He's out of shape and has a caveman-like lower lip protruding. He reminds me of a 'Bill' or a 'Norman'. Today I saw him in a new light. Anyone familiar with DC comics during the 1960's? There's a planet in a few issues called Htrae (Earth Backwards), which is more commonly known as Bizarro World. The planet is cube shaped and contains the complete opposites of our world. This man, at this momentr today, reminded me of Bizarro Ryan. Old, overweight, grumpy, possibly illiterate, rude, smells of gasoline. Nice guy. The reason this rather obscure thought popped into my mind was that it was in one of the alleys between streets. He was at one end, I was at the other. Middle of the road. Arms akimbo. Very Spaghetti Western. In my head, the theme to 'the Good, the Bad and the Ugly' played. Look it up as you read this... I'll wait.
He stood, slack-jawed drawing his hand to his filthy lip, picking the cigarette from his mouth. He held it, arm enlongated against his thigh, smoke illusively drifting his hip and obscuring his pistol (there was not a pistol). I mirrored his action, instead removing the Apple Flavored Lollypop from my mouth, flashing my eyebrow in a Gentleman's Wager. "Listen up, you hear; I challange you to a duel... you up to it ol' timer?" (I didn't speak) He laughed a cowards laugh, dust (no dust) kicking up around his towering figure. "I killed kids for less than that" he muttered, spitting his chewing tobacco aside (why would he smoke and chew tobacco at the same time?), "I don't mind addin' you to the list, you piss-weak pile of steaming, horse shit!" I stared into his dark eyes, questioning his past. He could pass as a ranch-hand. I licked my lollypop and set back into the traditional akimbo stance... and so began the Duel. My fingers twitched by my holster (iPod), and I knew I had two choices. Draw first, shoot first and fast but sacrifice accuracy OR wait for him to draw out of worry and impatience then draw myself, mopping him up like a shaken mess. He seemed concentrated, so I drew first, assuming he was mid-thought about his choices. I fired once - twice and from the explosion of smoke and noise came my determined eyes, peering through the cloud of death. Bob... or was it Norman... anyway, the dude grabbed his chest with his left arm, his right arm sliding down his thigh as his torso crumpled under his weight. His silver firearm falling from his shivering finger tips, before it was even fully from his holster. With that, he shook violently on the ground, moaning and spitting blood and tobacco. I approached the body, kicked the oaf in the shoulder and saw the life fade from his eyes... actually, I just kind of looked at him and he grunted and puffed smoke. No battle. Sorry. Still... I love that song. Ah... how I dream of a Bizarro Duel.