It’s just a fact of nature I suppose that older people rise early and do things like go for walks. There are several such people in my neighborhood. Six in the awful, wicked, deplorable AM and they are out there with walking stick, golf club, or baseball bat (yes really, and no it’s not a crime-ridden area).
As I left for my Monday morning clinicals the past two semesters, I always saw at least one. I’d just wave and drive past, internally shaking my head at the folly of elders. To think they’ve lived this long and don’t yet know that one should be fast asleep in bed at 6 AM. Or at least slinking home after an ill-advised “sleepover”.
Weird wacky bunch all I said, until I saw the 5 AM walker. Yes, a small gentleman with a sweatband striding around the neighborhood at 5 AM happy as you please. A hearty “Good morning!” as I drove past on my way home (from work, not sex). Total mental case. Maybe military.
So then one night/morning I’m getting out of my car at 4:07 AM after an emergency trip to Whataburger, when I see it. A walker. I say “it” because no human could possibly be out getting some fresh air at 4 AM. Clearly this is an It. An It in the form an old man striding, striding I say, down the street. The only only only thing keeping me from running after him, I mean It, for a vigorous interrogation was my attire: non-descript grey shirt, pajama pants, bare feet. Perfectly fine when making an emergency trip for pancakes, distinctly unsuited for confronting a possible alien who – let’s face this gimmick is starting to get a bit thin – is really just an old guy walking around at an ridiculous time of night/morning.
I’ll post an update with more details when the stars align and I am up at 4 AM, outside my house, and reasonably dressed.