I am offered methodone.
I got up at sunup and walked to the restroom, to splash water on my face.
There was a guy standing in front of the Government building, who asked me about my guitar, said that he himself played, and gave me a couple cigarettes.
He eventually prevailed upon me to show him my guitar, whereupon he played a bit of "Margaritaville," the Jimmy Buffet song. Jimmy Buffet is rumored to have gotten his start right here, in Mobile. Coincidentally, there is the same rumor which floats around St. Augustine, where I was prior to coming here.
We talked a while and then the man offered me some methodone, in the pill form. I asked him if it was addictive. "Not if you just do it once, no. If you do as much as I have, then it's very addictive. That's why I'm addicted to it," he replied. He told me that I would feel like King Kong, if I were to take it, and would climb up a building and play guitar on the roof.
I wondered what would stop someone from doing it more than once, if it's as great as he made it sound.
He went on to invite me to return and meet him there after I finished eating at the Presbyterian. I ate at the Coffee Club, and then left and walked in the opposite direction of the guy who offered me methodone.
I Run Into A Demon
Then, as I was on my way to the Shell for my morning energy drink, I was accosted by a young black guy, who was wearing a camoflage type of jacket.
I had seen him before, and he is in fact the same guy who punched me one night, when I was holding his cellphone as collateral for 10 bucks, which my friend Thomas had let him hold.
He began to claim that he had dropped a bag of "weed," in the park, claiming that I was the only person around at the time, and that I must have picked it up.
I told him that, no, I hadn't found a bag of pot under the bench in the park, where he was sitting. He persisted in repeating the question, acting as if he was becoming more angry, and accusing me of lying.I had my guitar on me and I was worried about him trying to harm it, so I picked up my pace towards the Shell. He shadowed me. He did this both literally and figuratively, because the sun was behind us and I could see his shadow, a little behind my own.
He began to accuse me of stealing his pot, and threatened to strike me, regardless of the fact that we were on a semi-busy street in broad daylight.
I watched his shadow for sudden movements and tried to angle my guitar away from him. He eventually struck at me with his foot, trying to knock me to the ground. I looked at him and felt fire in my blood. I didn't want to put my guitar down and retaliate, for fear of of one of his friends running off with it as part of a pre-planned ambush.
I walked the rest of the way to the Shell.
Once there, I stored my pack and guitar in a corner, and then went back outside, intent upon severely beating him.
I didn't have my knife. For the first time since I had gotten it, on the night of the "God hates you," people's appearance, I had forgotten it at the sleeping spot. I had taken it out of my pocket in order to wash my pants, and had noticed the absence of it after I was half way to the Shell, right before spotting the kid in the camoflaged jacket, who is posessed by a demon.