Late afternoon on the fourth of July, I was walking to the High Desert Market to check out the menu. Along the way I saw one of Bisbee’s talk-to-your-self types.  He had a beard, and he was wearing a blue shirt and blue jeans. I could hear the conversation, “The bitch. The cigs weren’t that good anyway.”

He was sitting on one of the empty driveways. He got up slowly, and crossed the road, to the side I was walking on. He crossed the road with difficulty, staggering and walking slowly. As I neared him, he said “Sorry, I talk to myself.” I replied that this was no problem. He not only talked to himself;  he also smelled of alcohol.

He continued along the sidewalk, and I went into the High Desert Market. This afternoon they had nothing that I wished to order.

I turned around and headed back home. The old guy was still on his way to the Circle K, he hadn’t gotten very far. I caught up to him as he entered the Circle K parking lot. he had a couple dollars in his hand for his purchase, and he was still talking, to himself, not me, I think. “What is everybody doing at the Circle K today?” My question exactly.

Then Charley – a whole ‘nother case – greets him. They went into the Circle K, and I headed for home. As I entered our house, I saw these same two guys leaving the Circle K.

For security, our front door has a glass window which distorts the view of the person, kinda like a collage of Picassos. Shortly thereafter, someone knocked on our door. He had a beard and wore a blue shirt. The knocker then rang the doorbell. Much as I didn’t want to talk to them any more, I decided to open the door.

No it wasn’t these two guys, it was a friend from Bisbee.

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