A really harrowed-looking man who was probably in his 60s came into the shop today. He was wearing a gold-colored tie that kept sliding down the side of his neck because it was tied very poorly, and a rumpled light blue dress shirt. I did not see his legs or shoes. Part-time cashiers are sometimes just not afforded the luxury.
We said hello to each other as I scanned his items (diet coke and a nature valley granola bar- $2.69), me sounding more interested than usual just because he sounded so out-of breath and very engaged in his purchase. Also maybe because I could not see his shoes.
“How’s your life going?” He suddenly asked, swiping his card, not casually but almost pleadingly curious.
“Uhm, all right I s’pose” I said, too startled to think of a more cheery lie.
He nodded somberly. “Me too… I guess.” He paused and looked at me for a minute and then just said “it’s a Monday, ya know.”
“Mondays are like this sometimes” I supplied, feeling like we were having a really weird conversation hidden under the one that was actually taking place.
And then he left. I forgot to look at his shoes.
PART II
Honestly I had no idea that I would ever have the privilege of writing a sequel to this post. I considered it an odd moment, an interaction that changed me in a way, but a fleeting one. I automatically assumed our paths would never cross again, there was such a finality to that window of time on Monday August 22nd of 2016. And yet.
He returned.
I didn’t truly notice him come in, glancing up from whatever menial and already forgotten task I was busy with, but not registering who it was or why he seemed to put out an aura of familiarity. It had been weeks and I haven’t even caught a glimpse of him; the memory of Monday August 22nd of 2016 had faded like a dream. But lo he appeared before me, dressed in exactly the same fashion that made him look like he had just crawled out of carwash (albeit with a pink shirt and purple tie this go-around.)
His face lit up when he saw me, again holding a diet coke and a nature valley granola bar. ‘How is your day going?’ He asked earnestly.
‘Pretty well.’ I said, professionally containing myself, “how are you?”
“I’m good, I’m good” he said, sounding more cheerful than before but just as harried. When I handed him back his change and items and he looked like he was going to cry.
“Thank you” he whispered with a look of reverence I have only seen on the faces of ancient church members receiving the eucharist.
“It’s no trouble,” I promised, trying not to look perplexed.
He bowed (LITERALLY BOWED) and then made a hurried exit stage left, reminiscent of Lear just before the second act, halfway into madness.
A Lear I had again forgotten to note the footwear of.
PART. 3.
Okay I’m not even bothering with the pretentious Hemingway style for this one; I’m still reeling over the fact that he came back after four months AND on a Friday instead of a Monday no less.
Notes:
He was wearing literally the exact same shirt and tie he had on from part one, only with an orange sweater and fancy jacket over the ensemble to indicate that it was winter
He bought Lay’s sour cream and onion potato chips this time instead of his standard granola bar, but the diet coke was as usual
He told me that he always felt guilty for buying snack food but ‘you have to do what you have to do’
He then smiled sadly at me and said ‘enjoy your weekend… If you can.’
I sat in stunned, unblinking silence for about six minutes until a customer came up and looked me over worriedly
Who is this man
WHY DO I KEEP FORGETTING TO LOOK AT HIS SHOES
Part Four
First thing’s first,
Probably about two years of wear on them but otherwise well cared for. Socks were white, which I was only able to notice because this human being has zero clothes that fit and his pant cuffs were hovering about 3 inches away from his shoes. I keep thinking his outfits can’t possibly get any better, but this one takes the cake:
Crumpled white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, gigantic scarf that looked as though it were made out of mouldy carpet, neon orange striped tie, and a matching neon orange plastic digital watch that probably came out of a box of honeycombs back in 1988.
He did not grace me with his odd conversational charm today, but I received something better. A clue.
Today he was buying a red notebook and three ballpoint pens instead of snacks (which was questionable but this is a Thursday we’re talking about; the day that falls on the chaotic spectrum and which I am known for my overzealous distrust of), and when he pulled out his luxury black Mastercard to pay for his items he said eight words which shook me to my very core.
“I do get a staff discount on these.”
This has never come up before because discount plans don’t apply to food items. I have no need to ask the identity of a man buying a granola bar and a diet coke. But now.
I didn’t speak as I handed him his receipt, just nodded courteously. Only staff members know about the specific discount so I had no real need to ask for an ID for proof, and I was cursing my mistake in not asking for it anyway.
I must find this man. I have been here for three years and yet have only seen him within the confines of the store at odd intervals. I’ve never even seen him step into the store, or leave (another customer is somehow always in line behind him and demanding my attention.) I spent half an hour going through the college’s entire staff directory this afternoon… and may have found something. I don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up, I am not yet certain and will have to gather a few more items of information, but for the first time I can promise a part to follow. Perhaps, an ending.
Cinq
Not an ending of any sort, but a very brief update from the field. My work schedule has changed since January and I was honestly beginning to wonder if I wouldn’t see the man again until the fall, as it’s been more than two months now. He startled me quite a bit when he literally blew in as if by a gust of wind right as my shift was ending.
He was in quite a hurry and only bought a diet coke ($1.50) before blustering(?) off, giving me no chance to run an investigation or perception check, but if fashion checks were a thing…
Please imagine, if you will, a man wearing a yellow polka-dot tie that was not even tied, an orange scarf, the watch mentioned in my previous entry, khakis, a bright periwinkle shirt… and an impeccably matching woolen periwinkle cape. He was also carrying a very large black satchel with tartan lining, every single pocket of which was unzipped.
He looked like a hedge wizard.
I want answers.
6.
I found him.
Masters in theology from Harvard
Distinguished professor of philosophy
God-tier identification photo; I cannot believe that I have not been hallucinating this man for the past 12 months and 41 days.
I know I’ve made cryptids before but I don’t think they compare to the emotion that an image of two borzois staring at you in front of a Staples at night conveys
Like, this seems to be what the popular idea of wendigos most resembles
deer skull, grey/black human body. Except, that’s not a wendigo
That’s the Jersey Devil.
As interpreted by A Wolf Among Us. The Jersey Devil is an urban legend, a cryptid, so open to whatever interpretation you like.
A wendigo is not.
Wendigos weren’t just made up for entertainment. They’re a longstanding part of Algonquin spirituality, and while interpretation varies slightly between Algonquin tribes, it’s consistently NOT deerheaded forest creatures.
A wendigo is a spirit of cold and hunger, most usually described as a giant, emaciated humanoid. Some legends say wendigos grow in proportion to everything they eat so that they’re never full, leading some to become titanic in size. As a spirit it can possess people during deep winter when food is scarce, driving them to cannibalism/turning them into a wendigo. There’s an actual psychological condition exclusive to people who grew up in Algonquin culture, particularly those who’ve experienced extreme hunger, where they come to believe they’ve been possessed by wendigos and dwell obsessively on thoughts of cannibalism, even when other food is plentiful.
Some of my favorite, closer to accurate interpretations of Wendigo:
Guy Davis’s wendigo for BPRD manages to stay mostly humanoid while still being nicely monstery and keeping a wintery vibe. It’s a personal favorite.
(Hellboy is so good you guys)
This one by Gavin Gray Valentine (ggvart.com) also captures the emaciated, cold feeling- with bonus antlers for the people who can’t seem to resist those. This one really conveys the wendigo’s nature as a living symbol of the kind of desperate hunger that can turn us all into monsters for the sake of survival.
Here’s a depiction by Norval Morrisseau, an
Anishinaab/Ojibwe artist, that shows the size wendigos often reach in traditional legends, dwarfing the tents below.
Isn’t that more interesting than a deer-skull-headed guy with no meaning behind it?
Have your deer headed guys! I like the look too. But call them Jersey Devils, or forest spirits, or whatever Elias from Magnus Bride is, and let the Wendigo be what it is.
i believe the antlers being associated with the wendigo come from ‘hannibal’. i never saw it before that show.
the wendigo is the one mythical creature i’m legit scared of. because they’re not some alien thing from far away or underground. they’re what you turn into after the worst winter of your life. they’re us, after we’ve destroyed what made us human.
i used to have actual nightmares of turning into one.
It gets even better, because he was doing all of this on a pitch black night. This dude swam towards a lure, slapped at it with his glove, and when it got caught; he let himself float and tugged on the line so the fisherman thought he had hooked a 100+ pound salmon. Once he was finally up to the shore, he turned a flashlight on in the guy’s face and walked out of the water, saying “good morning, gentlemen. State fish and game warden, you’re under arrest.“
At this point, the guy who had reeled him in had literally fallen over in shock, and the other people with him were scared shitless. The warden whipped some citations out of a plastic bag in his wetsuit, made the trespassers sign them, asked if they had any questions, and then gathered all of their fishing gear. And he just. Walked back into the river. And quietly swam away, without another word.
-is allergic to chocolate
-is physically incapable of laughter (it comes out as a hiss, like steam escaping a pipe)
-has weird long vampire teeth
-once led a chemical attack on some college students who had bullied his high school chemistry class
-named his bicycle Tom Bombadil
-got hired twice for the same job as himself and his fake identical twin because his boss wouldn’t hire him full time
-is the only member of my family to have shown me open and unconditional support
-is a clean-cut nerd… who used to be a psychedelic Deadhead and follow them around on tour
-enjoys snacking on an exercise formula called “goo”; his favorite flavor is “plain”. Plain goo. He gave me a box of it for Christmas once and it’s as gross as it sounds.
-cannot touch mangos
-teaches meditation seminars at his Buddhist temple
-has begun studying magic
-used to be obsessed with cults, especially Scientology, and would just… spy on their temples
-is so fucking weird
-used to drive a car that he’d covered entirely in plastic lizards, until someone stole it
-is terrified of the flying monkeys from The Wizard of Oz and still has nightmares about them
-is sending me on a roadtrip to the National Radio Quiet Zone for fun and education
-showed up to a family outing downtown this morning, wearing nylon shorts and expensive leather Oxford formal shoes -cried himself to sleep as a child because he desperately wanted a pet alligator -has experimented with god knows how many psychoactive substances…. For Science -is a literal masochist, as discovered this afternoon, when he told me all about how he’s addicted to the “excruciating pain and unexpected pleasure” of physical therapy -has feet so long he has to get shoes custom made for him – they have, in the past, been mistaken for clown shoes -once took his girlfriend on a date to lick the St. Louis Arch, in winter, and later revealed that he only framed it as a date ‘cause he was afraid of going alone in case his tongue got stuck to the metal -told me that he loved how bananas made his whole throat feel tingly, was surprised to find out that bananas are not supposed to have this effect -was disappointed that I did not bring a book on demon conjugation to the family reunion, because he wanted to compare it to his own translation -got banned from going down a slide today because he was dripping wet and had clearly been swimming…. he was just really sweaty from climbing the stairs
-sent me a check but forgot my legal name and put my nickname on it instead (it can’t be deposited and he hasn’t sent another)
this is what he wore to a family outing downtown
He showed up to our Christmas Eve dinner wearing a dress shirt, fancy slacks, and flip flops. All he ate was a bowl of smoked oysters.
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