I never heard back from Mike. I’m starting to think that maybe he was on to something. I mean, he seemed to be pretty serious (about the aliens) and then never got back to me.

He just moved to San Francisco a couple of weeks ago from here in Cincinnati and I’m not too sure how screwed on his thinking cap is right now. I just hope he was reading as I was sending my messages to him even though he wasn’t typing back. Maybe he didn’t want to slow me down. Sometimes I get going pretty fast. I was using my computer and those go pretty fast. Even to San Francisco. I like to call it ‘Frisco, but that really makes people who live there mad so I only do it real quiet. And never on the bus. I think they have a thing there called BART. I wouldn’t say it on BART either. Just ’cause it goes real fast doesn’t mean they won’t get mad.

I wonder if he had time to try the garbage disposal, or if he even had batteries in his boombox.

I liked Mike.

But that’s what happens when a kid from Ohio goes to California: More often than not he gets eaten. I know. I’ve been there. I always take my boombox and plenty of spare batteries just in case. You never…ever…know.

Yours,
Tim