The Ballet

Friday I was enjoying lunch at the Silver Skillet dinner. For whatever reason, my ears tuned in to a conversation between my waitress and two older gentlemen.

W: So boys, what are you doing this afternoon?

G1: I think I’m gonna head over to the Spring Street Ballet for a performance.

Editors note: Now I sat for a moment thinking how odd because the ballet offices are on West Peachtree, and when they perform, it’s at the Fox Theatre on Peachtree Street.

G2: Chuckles

W (after a short pause): Hmmm…so you are going to The Cheetah. The only thing I don’t like about that strip club is the drinks are watered down.

G2: Chuckles again

I chucked as well, thinking, strippers are called professional entertainers. Some of the moves are even similar, so why not refer to it as “Ballet”?

Their conversation shifted to another topic, and I focused on finishing Harry Potter.

Batty

It was late, or early, depending on your perspective. We just returned from a Waffle House meal after a late night of drinking and dancing. I walked into the bedroom to crawl under the covers. There was the cat, looking out the window, transfixed.

Then I saw them, how many I do not know, swooping in and out of the yard spotlight. So fast, they were difficult to see…flash…flash…flash. I stood transfixed. Watching them hunt, swoop in for the kill them and feast.

Images flashed in my head…

Batman

Batboy

Blood Sucking Vampire

Superhero

Freak

Evil doer

Transfixed I was … then all I could say was kill’em, kill’em all! Flash…flash…flash…yeah that’s it, get’em. Devour them all!

Is it bad to wish it? I didn’t care … the words grew louder in my head … kill’em, kill’em all! Flash…flash…flash…yeah that’s it, get’em. Devour them all!

My superheroes, keeping the neighborhood safe. I crawl into bed, knowing the next time I step outside, fewer pests will swarm, smelling my sweet blood, diving in to take a drink. So soundly I sleep, knowing the bats are near…flash…flash…flash