Never have I known a stranger to come rolling through town without making a beeline straight for me. It’s because I’d be spectacular if I didn’t let them get away with it, but as such I do just as well. I’m one cracked star short of there, and as such I’m stuck here with the stragglers lining up. We both always know it’s temporary, and we both always say it doesn’t matter. The truth is, it doesn’t.
It’s the simplest way I know to count myself out- to cross myself off the list for a while and not have to worry about any list I’ll ever want to be on. And it’s easier to pour salt than to bear some townie else trying to pour honey. All the best parks I’ve ever been to were closed in the middle of the night. It’s something about jumping fences; I’ve never walked in free and clear and had any fun.
I don’t have a sign but I think that sort of inclination shows itself in subtle ways. The sort of inclination that lies dormant but whispers to anyone listening “I like it this way and I’ll let you get away with it, as long as you leave quickly and don’t come back.” Strangers aren’t looking for china dolls to break, so they find me and we do just as well.