I was just walking home after an impossibly long, emotionally draining, horribly depressing day, and some guy just yelled, “Hey, Karl Marx!”
Being the weirdest thing I’ve heard someone yell in quite a while, I naturally turn towards the voice. Of course, he meant me, but I’m just “some bearded guy” to pretty much everybody.
(I’ve never been called Karl Marx before. I get Grizzly Adams all the time (the only college nickname I had that made any sense, because of where I went to school), and on occasion I’ll get a “Hagrid!” or a “Hey, Billy Mays!” or a “faggot!” yelled at me. But never Karl Marx before. I thought, “Well then, this will be interesting.”
“Stay the fuck out of the street!”
I didn’t have a response. I wasn’t even in the street.
Why are people so goddamned strange here and why won’t everybody just let me be when I’m walking with my head down, minding my own fucking business?
