Blunderer

Leggings arrayed with upside-down crosses came to my attention a few months ago at a Mobil in the middle of the night. A young girl fiendishly frolicked by giggling at her phone as it sat in her hand in selfie-high-up angle.( The trip gag should make its way back anytime now.) Her long, black pointy nails glistened under fluorescent lights in the gas station island. To my further disenchantment, she sported a shiny sulfur symbol patch on her pretty purse. Her white long hair with its lavender highlights, levitated with the wind and whimsically lured  whatever prey available–I looked around for such a sucker.

“What are you doing on that phone?” I asked.

“I’m vlogging, do you mind?”

“No, I don’t mind. What’s ‘vlogging’?”

“Great. Thanks.”

“What’s that symbol on your purse mean?”

“Fuck…really, dude?! I don’t need no Christian giving me shit right now.”

“What gave it away,” I said with a serpentine smirk, “Is it my alligator shirt?”

“Look, man…I’m a witch, okay. No, I don’t worship the devil. This is some ancient shit. You wouldn’t get it. And a baby pink Lacoste shirt? What is this the year nineteen-eighty-two?”

“You’re a witch? Wow.”

“Yeah, so…”

“Do you have a witch channel or something?”

“Yeah, I do. What of it?”

“Just curious.”

“What kind of witch are you?”

“A real one.”

“Are there fake witches?”

“Oh, yeah, believe me. I study ancient texts. Read a whole bunch and shit. Trust me, its heavy stuff.”

“What makes you a witch? I’m simply curious.”

“Well…I–”

“Are you a Satanic Witch?”

“Hell, no. I’m a good witch.”

“Satanic witches are bad?”

“Obviously!”

“Well, not to me. I am not that educated in the subject.”

“Exactly. I am. I am actually in a hurry…but, take it from me. That’s some selfish shit right there.”

“And the kind of witch you are is not, right? What I mean is, you do things for others or for the greater good. Something like that?”

“Yeah, You got it. Look, I gotta go and buy some alcohol before they close here. And I need to finish this video for my fans. I have a lot of subscribers and YouBoobs kind of pays me, so…I am a professional.”

“Oh, okay. That’s interesting. I won’t hold you up. I was simply curious.”

“No worries, dude…take care,” she said walking towards the front door of the store and stopped after a few steps, “Hold on here.”

“Yes?”

“Was all this some strategy to get my number?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Very obvious, dude. But..I think you’re cute so…”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Here take my number.”

“Okay.”

“Save it to your phone.”

“All right,” I said as I took my phone out and opened my chess app as she mumbled on.

“Got it?”

“That strategy paid off,” I said as I checkmated the simulation champion chess player at a supposed age 11 level.

“Okay, man, cool. Text me sometime soon, okay?”

“Sure thing.”

“Cool.”

“You ever hear of Magnus Carlsen?”

“Is he a gamer or a vlogger?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Hmm…don’t think so. Why?

“Just curious. I think he’s a Blunderer.”

“Oh…okay. Yeah, I think I’m subscribed to his channel.”

“That makes sense.”

“Don’t forget to text me okay?”

“I got your number.”

 

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