It was 5pm on the light rail and I was tired. I had my headphones in, letting my mind drift to John Mayer’s sweet voice, but before I could lose myself completely, I noticed a strange presence. You walked in, dressed head to toe in a blotched and smudged Elvis Presley costume. On your face were large circular sunglasses, each lens the size of a drink coaster, and on your head a large misshapen mass of hair that was haphazardly splattered with gel and mousse. You scanned the car, sizing up your potential audience, and then looked downward. As you raised your head you let out a shriek, piercing and off-note … a false falsetto. The sounds that followed could best be described as moaning and bleating accompanied by flailing arms and off-rhythm pelvic thrusting. As we neared the next stop you ended with a serenade, making eye contact with an elderly lady at the back of the car. The doors opened and you turned to us and bowed. I clapped for you, bud, you hound dog.
I Saw You is an anonymous “man on the street” column. Email your rants and raves about co-workers or any badly behaving citizens to [email protected], or send to 380 S. First St, San Jose, 95113. Submissions should stick to about 100 words.