Tag Archives: banana peel

Watchout! casual creeper

Sometimes it’s hard to tell whether someone is being friendly or creepy.
This peel got a little too close for comfort on Hoover Street back in January. There was nothing obviously wrong, he was being perfectly friendly, but I still got a weird feeling…  he had no reason for being there, he was just hanging out on the sidewalk, alone, seemingly for no reason.

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Casual creeper, spotted on January 17, Hoover Street.

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Watchout! Bad Vibes

Back in January, I ventured out of my home and noticed a new shop had materialized on the main avenue. I felt myself drawn with a mysterious magnetism toward its open, incense-scented doors and through its beaded curtain to the crystal-studded cave within. Helpful clerks in long, flowing gowns glided helpfully towards me, took my hand, and made surprisingly accurate statements regarding my aura and the mass of dark energy that has taken roost in my soul recently.

I emptied my pockets of money and filled them up again with quartz, lapis and amethyst talismans, and sipped from a complimentary goblet of a sweet tea with rose petals floating in it. After several hours in this jeweled room, my new friends bid me farewell at the door, but I was immediately accosted by this unsavory fellow hanging around outside. There was something dark about him –serious bad vibes, as if he held terrible secrets under that skin, and wished me great harm. Even the plants in the windowsill seemed to scream in warning as I passed by. I held my new crystals tight, trusted my intuition and got the hell away.

Watchout! New Age Horror

Spotted back in January, stalking the customers of a New Age crystal shop.

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It Sheds Its Skin

Watchout! Something left its creepy old skin on the corner. But WHERE DID IT GO?

Spotted on November 26, somewhere on Earth.

Spotted on November 26, somewhere on Earth.

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Watchout! Krazies on the Street

Last December, a local couple went on a date to a trendy restaurant near their house in Silverlake. They vented about work, bad drivers, and noisy neighbors over a carafe of house wine and plates of glistening chicken and noodles. After a couple of hours, they left the restaurant holding hands, feeling closer than ever. It was later than they thought – past the witching hour, and they had to walk a couple of blocks to their car. Dazed and sedated by the wine and salty food, they did not notice the eerie figures hanging out on the corner…until it was too late.

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Watchout! Sand Creatures

After a long day of exploring the stunning landscapes of the Mojave Desert, we thought we’d go “antiquing”, having heard people boast about their finds at the local antique shops. We drove up and down the main strip, and pulled into a promising looking venue, a fenced-in yard filled with bric-a-brac and cardboard boxes. There were two other young couples in there, with dismayed expressions on their faces. “Nothing good left,” one of them said as he passed me. Not one to be easily deterred, I ignored his warning and  wandered deeper into the piles of boxes. I took note of the waterstained self-help books and the  unopened mail marked “Urgent: Open By December 6, 2002”. I used my shoe to poke around in a box of miscellany, and approached a vintage Crock-Pot for a closer look, only to discover some petrified stew coating the bottom.

I grew increasingly uncomfortable at this display of household charnel, as if its misery could rub off on me. Normally, objects at yard sales and flea markets call out to me in one way or another, with some song of nostalgia or potential. But this was truly a graveyard, and a neglected one at that. I even felt a vague sense of danger, as if this yard was laid out as bait, to lure people from the road into some kind of trap. Nothing good left, indeed. Where were all the great antiques people bragged about?  Could this really be it?

We left to get some BBQ and regain our strength – and on the way, we spotted this lowly banana peel sunning itself in the sand.

On the way out of town, we passed a strip of lovely looking antique shops, only a half mile down the road. But by that time, it was too late to stop. Oh well, we said. Next time.

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