Voodoo Princess

I took Rosie over to the park today. Yeah, that park. Where I got flashed, where a friend of mine got attacked by a homeless lady (he was fine) who REALLY wanted his newspaper, and the very same park where I met my ancient Indian friend who always loved to watch Rosie catch a ball and who, when she would catch it in front of him, who light up in smiles and say, "Ahhhhh! Thank you!"

Today was possibly the best park story that I have though. I walked up and there was a guy walking sort of toward me. He wasn't direct in his path but we were moving in opposite directions, facing each other. Suddenly, he reared back in horror and started screeching, "I know what you are! I know why you're here!!" I was hoping he wasn't talking about me but I wasn't hoping all that hard as soon as he broke into a tribal dance and began beating rhythmically on his gallon of water.

"You're here, Voodoo Princess! You take your acts someplace else!! You pretend to walk your dog but I know why you're here Voodoo Princess!"

He was far enough away from me to not be a threat and plus, he kept darting around, hiding behind the trees, dancing and chanting and drumming on his water jug.

He would hide behind a tree and then peek around it and yell, "Voodoo Princess, you get on out of here! You leave me be! You take your Voodoo dog magic and leave me now!"

He took off his shoes and threw them, one at a time, into the street never really interupting his dance. "Voodoo Princess this is mine! You get on out of here! You can't do your acts here! Don't do your Voodoo acts on me no more!"

This went on for the full half hour I was throwing a ball for my dog. As other park-goers passed by, he would point and his voice would raise in alarm, "Voodoo Princess to do acts here! No more Voodoo Princess acts in here! She pretends to walk her dog - it's how she does it!"

Eventually, having not grown tired AT ALL of this totally true entertainment, I had to turn and go home because Rosie was d-o-n-e. As I was leaving the park and watching him with the Voodoo eyes in the back of my head, I felt him watching me leave. I turned, of course, and saw him stop dancing and relax.

I resigned myself to returning home to watch some Mad Men and figure out what to do with my dog since my dog-sitter flaked. Before I could get to my street, I heard some chanting, "Po-Lice. Po-po-po-po-Lice! The po-lice!" I had to look. He was dancing around his shoes, in the street. Until another guy came up and helped him back into the park.

Thank god nobody interupted him as he was worshipping me in fear of my Voodoo Princessness because Voodoo Princess or not, I can't make up stuff this good.

arizonasarah at 9:32 p.m.

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