Thursday night, SOMETHING HAPPENED.
Chooch and I went to the CVS a few blocks away from our house.
I walked, and he rode his bike, which was whatever except that I got stuck carrying the bags (we bought a big jug of water plus some bottles of iced tea so it was HEAVY) because he was all, “Oh, I can’t carry those on my bike, sorry bro” and then pedaled off into the sunset.
Also, our least favorite cashier* was the only one working at that time so Chooch and I couldn’t play our desperate game of “PLEASE LET US GET THE OTHER CASHIER” where it’s like a secret race that the two cashiers don’t know they’re playing and I fucking swear our least favorite cashier ALWAYS WINS because some asshole in the other line has to start disputing prices or something, ugh. But on this night, the lady in front of us was like a verified meth head who had to stand with her legs staggered in horse stance just to stay upright, so she actually made Laverne seem normal.
*(I call her Laverne because she looks like someone named Laverne who lives in a trailer park but now I call her 1212 because one time I was there with Henry and our total was $12.12 and the way she said “twelve twelve” was so monotone and Laverne-ish that it just took a life of its own. I was fortunate enough to be clandestinely recording this and I thought it was greatest thing ever and kept using the hashtag #1212 when texting Henry after this monumental occasion and I would randomly blurt out “twelve twelve” in conversation until finally Henry asked me why I was doing that and WOW I GUESS THIS ONLY HAD AN IMPACT ON MY OWN LIFE, SORRY THAT I THOUGHT WE HAD SHARED SOMETHING SPECIAL TOGETHER IN WITNESSING LAVERNE SAYING OUR TOTAL WAS 1212.)
None of this is important to the main story, but I just had to share.
Anyway, I had to walk home alone in the dark and it was also starting to rain so that was really awesome, and the bags of beverage were ripping my arms out of their sockets, but that’s fine. I’m fine. You do you, Chooch.
Right when I got to our block, I noticed a shape looming under a tree. I jumped a bit when I realized it was a man, shuddering and murmuring to himself, but I didn’t stick around long enough to get a better look, figuring it was one of the people who work at the mental house on our street, because sometimes they stand on that corner to smoke cigarettes.
But just then, Chooch came zooming up to me on his bike.
“DID YOU SEE TOURETTE’S?” he panted.
Now, Tourette’s is this older gentleman who has been carousing around Brookline for as long as I’ve lived here. He actually used to live a few houses up from us but moved years and years ago, though he’s still somewhere in town because we freaking see him numerous times a week. I call him Tourette’s, which is terrible, I know, because he is always walking alone and blurting out swears. Like, he will often walk down our street, shaking his fist at all of the houses, screaming, “YOU MOTHERFUCKERS.” One night a few weeks ago, we heard commotion outside and I was like, “Oh god, is it a fight” but I looked outside, exhaled in relief, and said, “No, it’s just Tourette’s. Everything’s fine!”
If you’ve been around on this blog for awhile, you may remember my People of Brookline postcard series – he was on one of them!
Lately, I have been making some headway with him. For instance, sometimes I will pass him in the mornings when I’m on my way to the trolley and I’ll say hello, at which point he will say, “Good morning good morning good morning” in a sing-song way and it fills me with joy. Sometimes he’s even been on the trolley with me and we got off at the same stop downtown! I wonder what he does downtown!??!
So now Chooch and his friend Marky have been making a point of saying hello to him too and it seems to have been going well….
OK, where was I…Chooch asked me if I saw Tourettes.
I said no, I hadn’t seen him, no one had passed me on my super sad, solo walk home from CVS.
And then Chooch just started blurting out frantic words and what I was able to get from it was that he was riding his bike home with no bags from CVS when he noticed Tourette’s walking up the sidewalk by our house, and Tourette’s wasn’t paying attention so Chooch had to veer around him. While doing so, Chooch decided to also say hello to him, since they’re like bros now or whatever.
However, since Tourette’s head was up in the motherfucking clouds, Chooch’s salutation startled him.
“WHAT THE FUCK! ARE YOU INSANE?! ARE YOU CRAZY?!” Tourette’s allegedly shouted loud enough that Henry, who was probably in the middle of erotically masticating a banana, looked out the window to see what was going on—or as we say here in Pittsburgh, TO NEB.
I just asked Chooch what he said in response and he said, “Nothing, I just rode away like ‘wtf, no you’re crazy.'”
Meanwhile, Psycho Asscrack was outside of his house (THEY ARE IN THE PROCESS OF MOVING, AND SO WE REJOICE) and as Chooch was putting his bike away, Psycho Asscrack glared at him and then asked Tourette’s if he was OK and Tourette’s hollered that he was FINE.
“Psycho Asscrack sided with Tourette’s!?” I yelled with faux incredulity.
“I don’t care!” Chooch cried. “I don’t want that asshole taking my side, anyway!”
That’s when I realized that the shadow-shape I saw under the tree must have been Tourette’s, trying to calm down after BIG SCARY CHOOCH startled him by audaciously saying hi.
For something that I didn’t even witness with my own two eyes, this whole thing is relentlessly hilarious to me and I almost fell to my knees in laugh-tears when I was telling Glenn and Todd at work on Friday.
“You can never move,” Glenn said.
I KNOW! There is too much free entertainment right in front of my house.
Psycho Asscrack!!! TOLHURST!