dearest neighbors-
I fully realize that most of you will have probably noticed by now on one or another rare occasion in the utter dead of the night my girlfriend Samantha or I silently, slowly, sadly, and awkwardly rising up from a cot, sniffing some glue, paint, or powder, perhaps masturbating, I don't know why, and then, dressed completely in buckskin, reluctantly creeping out the front door and climbing into the car and two-thirds but probably closer to four-fifths unconsciously heading out into the murky and poorly-lit, poorly-marked distance, where on the far eastern outskirts of the metropolitan area, past a series of swamps, there is a truly massive warehouse- a monstrosity, really- where we purchase most of our key household necessities at insanely rock-bottom prices, including but not limited to toiletries, eatables, wearables, camping equipment, ribbons, kerosene, exotic pets along with their highly specialized diets, gravel, certain lotions, scented candles, cauldrons, animal skins, human skulls, books, and random AV/computer accessories. Obviously it is a 24 hour establishment- which we love, because we prefer heading out there amidst the lightest possible traffic/shopping conditions. Is this so hard to understand, fellow consumers? I know Sam and I have been pegged as the “odd ducks” on the block- and yes, I’ve heard the fleeting references made by a few of the youngsters to the “perpetual freakshow down at 4010 Jeffers Avenue.” Hey, you guys- it's okay! We’re used to it! And yes, I realize that these very admissions will probably be used against us somehow. That's precisely why we're attempting this little olive branch gesture.
One suggestion that springs to mind is a small group of us carpooling or caravanning out there together one of these early mornings. Come see for yourselves all that this sick place has to offer! The phrase "one-stop-shopping" has reached it's ultimate apogee here, I'm afraid. Even if you don’t really need anything, just come along for the experience! I guarantee you won’t forget it! It’s one of those places that has to be seen to even consider being believed! If the majority of folks would prefer not to head out there in the stark dead of night, I’m sure we could all reach some sort of compromise. However, let me just say that going there in the deadest, most paralyzed part of the night makes the whole thing that much more phantasmagorical- the utter immensity of a place like that with only a few token human beings hovering about in the shadows. Think of what it would be like to visit Six Flags or Disneyland after-hours, in the dead and desolate black of deep night, with all the rides up and running but absolutely no other patrons and just a few silent attendants slithering around in your peripheral vision more in the tradition of poltergeists than as friendly folks trained to make your visit a friendly and memorable one. I’m sorry, but I don’t think this is the way these places were originally designed to be experienced by members of the general public! But that is, of course, what makes it so unspeakably awesome! Way, way more awesome than I can even begin to convey through mere language! Fuck language, ya know? Fuck it and everything it pretends to accomplish! Trust me on this one, people: EMPHATICALLY NOT-TO-BE-MISSED!!!
This warehouse/monstrosity, which is called Gentle Ben’s, by the way, only went 24 hours in the last couple of years. Each time I venture out there in the sheer dead of night I am always surprised, pleasantly so, that there is next to nobody else there. This has got to be one of the best-kept secrets in the entire United States of America! The ceilings are probably 4 or 5 stories high and the main aisles are easily between 2 and 3 football fields in length. The sheer size of the place, coupled with the sheer number of merchandise categories, coupled with the sheer number of options within each of those categories- this place makes stores like Wal-Mart seem like little roadside kiosks or vending machines for pioneer folk travelling out west in covered wagons or campers! Or little kids down in the basement playing “mommy and daddy go shopping” with a few canned goods and molded plastic fruit, tools, calculators, infants, etc. Seriously, people- come with us!
Although Samantha and I don’t really mind being regarded as freaks- in fact, a part of me feels that this reputation might ultimately be better for everyone- nonetheless, we feel that it’s high time to make some small token effort at least to reach out, as it were, to what might be called the "local community." I realize that the old feel-good phrase “we’re all in this thing together!” has been largely discredited by the sordid revelations regarding globalization and its tacit service to imperial preferences. That’s why Sam and I want to try something small-scale here! Sure, Gentle Ben’s imports food and merchandise from all over the world, most of it grown, manufactured, and shipped under the most unjust and unsanitary conditions imaginable. We’re not trying to pull any wool over your eyes here. It’s a vicious, horrid place! It represents the very worst of what this era is capable of! Sam and I may be freaks but at least we’re not ruining the world on that order of magnitude!
“Well- why do you shop there then, asshole? You’re only encouraging them, numb-nuts! You’re empowering the most evil regimes on the planet, you shit-bomb! By giving them your filthy money and even filthier recommendation you are only making them, and everything they represent, stronger!” Neighbors, neighbors, neighbors, neighbors: please. try and calm down for a moment. Do some of your famous breathing exercises. Or, for those of you so inclined, have a quick few puffs of your famous organic, high-octane ganja. Take a time-out. A chill-pill. And don't act as if you don't know what I'm talking about! I can just imagine a thousand different objections like the samples provided above careening violently through your media-rattled, steam-rollered, Stone Age aspiring heads as you ponder the implications of visiting poor Gentle Ben's with Sam and I in the dead chill of the near endless night. If you thought we were undesirable neighbors before, well, by golly, you may have now perhaps reached the point where you are finally ready to take legal action. GO AHEAD THEN, YOU PUSSIES! Before we were just weirdos, right? We kept too much to ourselves, rumor had it. You never knew what we were thinking. You never what we were up to. Curtains never pulled back. Not a single visitor. Ever. No noise whatsoever leaking out from the perpetually dim-lit interior. Every now and then you might notice one of us emerging from 4010 Jeffers Avenue in what could only be referred to as the deadest and stillest part of the night and silently disappearing into the vagueness, the distance, the darkness, the nothingness. That’s bad enough, I suppose, but still- we weren’t actively disrupting or harming or threatening anyone, were we? You could just go on doing your best to ignore us, and, for the most part, succeeding. Admit it, for Christ's sake: it’s like we barely even existed! And if I didn't know any better, I might think that's just how you wanted to keep it! It’s true that she and I very seldom venture out into the community. In fact, come to think of it, we seldom venture outside the apartment at all. That’s a decision we made together when we first started dating. These late-night errands are just our way of maintaining some sort of presence among you, I guess. In our own freakshow way, perhaps it’s just us trying to say “thanks for letting us be a part of society.”
Like I’ve said, I’m pretty sure that this invitation to join us at Gentle Ben’s will be used against us somehow. At some point, I suppose, everything will be brought out into the open. On that fateful day we will all at least be able to enjoy the merciless sunshine together! Maybe someone could initiate some square-dancing or throat-singing or something. I don't know. I'm just trying to suggest stuff that I think you people would like! I know this online newsletter is supposed to serve as a serious community forum. By barging in like this and making a bunch of what you'll probably regard as facetious or ironic gestures, and finally giving you hard evidence of what might indeed very well be serious and long-term psychological issues- well, perhaps I've at long last ruined things irreversibly. For better or worse, I’ve finally put all of my and Sam’s cards on the proverbial table. Bring on the eviction process, then! Bring on the police intervention! Sam and I are admittedly very troubled, very conflicted, and very questionable citizens- deeply confused, deeply damaged, neck deep in self-deception and hard-core, almost pre-birth level denial- I don’t think we ever deliberately attempted to hide any of that from you folks. Our joint decision to almost never appear out of doors was a choice we made together back in seventh grade when we first started dating. It has nothing to do with other people, other religions, other eras, other countries or anything regarding an impending world government or, by extension, coordinated parliaments of the planets and more distant galaxies, and the information certain extra-terrestrial/human hybrids may or may not be entitled to.
If any of you, by the way, are seriously interested in a field trip to Gentle Ben’s, write me back with potential days and times, size of party, availability of vehicle, etc, and we’ll just take it from there- okay? For those of you who intend to completely ignore this little friendly overture of ours, no problem- thanks for reading and hopefully we can just keep on co-existing as usual. Besides, “we’re still all in this thing together!”, right?
your neighbor,
4010 Jeffers Avenue
