A man is wrapped in a sleeping bag near the back door of the museum. One of my co-workers politely asks him to move, because they're going to be loading some things through that door. After my co-worker disappears inside, the man stands up and starts screaming and gesticulating wildly. He reaches into his sleeping bag and pulls out a hatchet. The cops are called but before they can arrive the man grabs his things and stalks off, still clutching the hatchet. We joke about the museum buying us all hatchets to defend ourselves with.
The rest of the day passes without incident. As I slowly make my way home, I see that the words MARY JANE IS A RAT are written in big block letters on the wall of the Plaid Pantry. Usually they paint over the graffiti within a day or two but this has been there for weeks.
As I cross over the 405, I see that someone has written a long note on the railing in blue marker, big looping letters with big spaces between each word:
My kids in real life need you now!
Silver Mustang 2015 tall dark haired man
Steph hack was here on Aug 2021
My kid is at a party. They are going to murder her. Help! to you Portland
The note spans nearly the entire length of the bridge. As I copy it down, a young dude with blond curly hair comes up and asks, "Hey man you got a spliff?" I say no and he stands there and stares at me like he doesn't believe me.
When I get home, I see that I have a text from someone calling herself Brianna. "What is ur first consideration when u wake up near me?" she wants to know. I don't know, Brianna, but all I want right now is to light up a bowl and was the words of smoke hang in the air, try to read them before they dissipate.
I read every word. You matter to me. Thank you for being and writing.
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