The Mothman and Me

May 31, 2004 at 8:14 pm (Uncategorized)

Saturday I had “a day.” That means I was twice as caustic and toxic as I normally am. I was tired of sitting and looking at the four walls around me. I had been invited to a Memorial Weekend picnic so I went to my friend’s house. P.C.’s ex-girlfriend was there and I insulted her broccoli casserole because frankly it wasn’t as good as his and I don’t like her anyway. I don’t think she got it as she had started drinking way before me.

Once I had a few beers I felt a little better and got in the pool which was butt-fucking cold. I swam around a bit and then got out and sit with my bud, J.A., and we sunned ourselves and shot the shit with everyone. But I was bored and tired and not really in the mood to get completely shit-faced so I came home. I laid down to take a nap and almost immediately fell asleep.

The phone woke me up an hour later and that completely pissed me off. It was J.A. who had warned she would call to interrupt my nap. I didn’t answer. I mentally made plans to bang on her bedroom window at 8 a.m. as payback. Suddenly, I could hear the dog barking, the lawnmower running, birds singing, water dripping and the second hand ticking on a clock I didn’t own. SHIT!

I heard someone come onto Messenger and the sound of someone IMing me. It was the Beaufriend. I told Beaufriend I had to get out of this house. The four walls were killing me. He had plans to meet a friend/business partner but said he would check to see if he could put it off and would get back to me. Hmmmm…well that didn’t work out and I sensed a blow-off. I hate that. I informed him I was getting the hell out of dodge.

I didn’t want to go by myself but everyone was either tired, drunk or not interested and I thought briefly of making the 6 1/2 hour trip to Canada but figured all the bars would be closed by the time I got there which made the trip not only long and expensive but also worthless. So, my second choice was to go to Point Pleasant, WV, about an hour from my house to see if I could locate the Mothman Statue. It seemed like the thing to do at the time.

For those never fortunate enough to visit the bustling metropolis of Point Pleasant, WV, go at night. Its downright spooky. The last time I was there was in college. TNT as the locals called McClintick, the old ammunitions factory which was completely underground. There were igloos that came up out of the ground with spiral staircases leading into the vast government underworld. My understanding is they have since been uprooted and is now some kind of nature park.

The first time though they were still there and I got a glimpse of it. The locals were all hanging out, drinking beer and listening to music and did I mention they don’t like outsiders. They chased us out of there faster than rabbits fuck. My “date” for some reason did a 180 in the middle of the road, oh, it must have been that car chasing us, and sped us back up the roads toward home. YIKES!

That hasn’t changed much. As I drove across the bridge into the city I had the feeling that all the ghosts woke up. I’m particularly sensitive to those things. And having no idea where this damn statue was I drove around like a man not daring to ask directions. As I wound my way through the city I passed an old graveyard, making mental note to return, and groups of locals hanging out. They immediately made me as an outsider. I wanted to tell them that one of my great grandfather’s died on that soil in the first battle of the Revolutionary War and they could all kiss my ass.

However, using my keen sense of direction, I did find the statue of the Mothman and a wedding reception. Goes to show how odd the area is as they would have a wedding reception in an old hotel overlooking the Mothman. I walked along Main Street as intrigued by the locals as they were by me. The bridesmaids were tipsy and the other guests were weaving and singing like sailors. I sat for a while on the other end of the street behind the police station as youngsters staggered by me, obviously feeling no pain.

I made my way back down the street, hoping for an opportunity to inobtrusively photograph this legendary creature but the wedding party had moved outside and I decided I had caused enough of a stir. Obviously I was the sober one. The local young men hanging outside a pool hall were quite friendly. One asked if he could “take a ride” with me. I told him I didn’t feel like going to jail that night. He swore he was 18. I swear he looked 14.

That and the fact he had eyes like the Beaufriend stopped me from the need coursing in my veins to take him and taste the youngness of him and ruin him to any woman from now to eternity. I beat a quick path away from the Mothman and instead went to the cemetary and walked around getting my hem of my jeans wet in the dew, waiting for the cops to come by and ask what the hell I was doing in a cemetary past midnight.

I approached the bridge out of town with the trepidation that I had felt coming in. As I turned toward home, the brown eyes of the young one followed me and Point Pleasant whispered for my return.

1 Comment

  1. Jenni said,

    I appreciated your comment, yes I agree that is definitly the way I would like to be remembered. Just that I lived you know? I enjoy reading your blog, I share your pain about sometimes just having to leave. Also the comment about the guests “singing like sailors” brings memories.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: