Now, Who’s This Guy?

Share on FacebookShare on Google+Tweet about this on TwitterShare on LinkedInPin on PinterestEmail this to someone

In my last writing, Didn’t You Just Say That, I mentioned that while in San Francisco I discovered a massive plot to protect me. Offer security. Provide guardianship. From whom? Not exactly sure… something Oliveristic, benevolent, other worldly. Why? Not sure of that either – other than to say it may have to do with my mission to tell all about what happens in my life so those who gravitate to this site can find solace in knowing they are not alone. There are millions of us out there who travel between worlds with the flipping of an emotion-based, energetic switch.

With that said, I remembered this guy! Who the hell he is I never found out, but he was always around while I was in Lismore, NSW last December / January. I noticed him for the first time on the warm morning of Tuesday, December 20th (AU). It was near 80 degrees fahrenheit | 26 celsius by 8 a.m. but the temps were so comfortable I didn’t really feel it. Soft breeze, as seems natural on the rooftop apartment of a local pet shop, on the 5 corner roundabout to the north, leaving open a space for the churns to turn and weave the air around with grace about my friend’s place. Coffee in hand from the shop around the corner, black, 1 shot. You see, in Australia they don’t serve coffee the same way they do in the States. You ask for a coffee you get a shot of espresso in a small, paper cup. You want water to Americanize it a bit, you ask for a tall coffee. Baristas are the second most coveted career in OZ, just behind the Hemp sciences and its distribution. True hemp. Cared for hemp. Grown in fields that lay open for acres, tended to by those with the acumen of a produce farmer from the U.S.

I was dancing to the music playing through the buds to my iPhone, looking over the edge of the balcony. There he was. This medium size man. Common in his uncommonness. Chameleoned right into the backdrop. Yet there was something about him that got my attention. Not sure what. Just got a gander at his back. Nothing more. But it stuck with me. Let it go, as it was just some man, and turned my attention back to the raw beats and my bare feets on the stained wooden deck. No pictures. Nothing. Just observation.

Then others in the house rolled awake. Time for more coffee. The house had a coffee maker – a one shooter – and with 3 people in need of a couple of shots each, I decided I’d refresh down at the shop around the corner. I’d spent most mornings there, chatting up the owners, learning about the local lore… and general gossip – of which there was always a news broadcast’s worth. Always receiving. Barely giving, other then a pocket full of smiles and gratitude and thanks I could dole out. This morning, as I turned the corner I saw him again! Funny thing is how. I was standing at the corner taking a photo of the electric plate in the sidewalk. (Hey… it’s an antique with an amazing design. Sue me! I’ve got a great lawyer!) While hunched over I see these sneakers walk by my view so I look up. There he was again. Back only – again! This time I had a camera and it was ready to shoot so I took the photo you see above (first on this webpage). My favorite part is the sign above his head that reads, in part, “OFFICIAL AGENT.” LOL.

I go in the store for my coffee – the one pictured above in the photo. His back stays to me the whole time. He even pays in the rear where they make food (which he didn’t get), instead next to me at the front counter. All he got was coffee and still managed to maintain his anonymity. Humored by the whole process I just smiled. Got my fuel and headed back to the apartment. This time, however, I took another route, long way around. Down to the next block and around in a u-shape until I made it back to my block and my friend’s place. Yet, there the fuck he was again when I turned the first corner off the main drag onto the side street. Looking down he just passed me as I was going in the opposite direction. It was weird. How did he get there when he, too, walked up the other side next to the building where I was overlooking the deck? Why was he there and walking back in the direction of the bodega? All just incalculable.

Got back to my place and kept walking to meet the main street corner again. Just to see if he was there. Nope. Nothing – that is until I turned to walk back to my destination. Stood on the corner for a moment just taking it all in. I do that. LOL. And as I took my first step homebound there the fuck he was again! Now the 4th time in one morning. Here is that photo top left. Again, as you can see another back shot. He does still have that same coffee he’d purchased 10 minutes or so earlier, but AGAIN at that main street, walking in my direction, as if he was just coming from the turn he’d made onto the main street a few minutes prior when I’d run into him a third time.

Finally, as weirded out as I was – in a good way, like “how cool is that that some random guy keeps showing up in my experience,” he shows up a final time. An hour or more later, again on the deck just watching the world pass by I catch sight of him walking past the building towards the main street one last time. Same dark satchel. Same interesting attire. No coffee cup. …and he never came back by on that same side again.

I did see this guy a few more times during my remaining weeks in Lismore. Seems he lives down the street – or so he does now. According to my friend, he didn’t live there before I arrived, and it also seems he moved out, or just disappeared shortly after I left in mid-January. Talk about weird.

Guardian? Foe? Who really knows. It’s fun to speculate and I have my own perspective on it. I’ll give you three guesses what it is and the first two don’t count.

Let’s just say I feel safe every day and know I am well protected. Why? Because I believe… and I can sense, and I can see… that Source can fit into a pair of camouflage knickers better’n most.

 

 

 

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *