Dancin’ in the streets

So while I was on vacation (I was on vacation, you know) I got a note from a fellow who had witnessed a whole lot of people lining up at a Pine Street apartment house in Lewiston to purchase … well, we don’t really know. It appeared they were purchasing something, all right. And according to this tipster, every single body who went to that location returned minutes later to start dancing right there on Pine Street, and in various states of undress. We figure they either bought some really goofy dope or maybe just something downright fun like illicit street Silly String. You ever try squirting that stuff into your shoes? Because it’ll definitely make you feel like dancing.

Lost soles continued

And speaking of shoes, more alert readers have sent along photos of orphaned shoes populating various streets around the city. The latest one is a slipper. A slipper! My best guess is that things went horribly awry at a slumber party somewhere. Although, if that were the case, you’d expect to see a onesie, a burst pillow and some soap bubbles out there, too. Because that’s what people do at slumber parties, right? Pillow fight in their onesies and blow soap bubbles?

Seeing is believing

I finally got video footage of what is either a Bat Boy on wheels or some kind of flying nun whizzing down Webster Street in Lewiston. And you people accused me of eating mushrooms and hallucinating the whole thing! I feel great about being vindicated here, yet even with slowed down video, I can’t tell if this caped enigma is a young boy blazing by on some kind of souped-up scooter or a habit-trailing Prioress traveling through more divine means of locomotion. Either way I think it’s pretty clear that we have a miracle on our hands and somebody ought to notify the Vatican at once.

No, I ain’t been eating mushrooms

I also have footage of a deer chasing a cat through my backyard. It was an odd scene. I’m betting ol’ Bambi had been down to Pine Street, if you get my drift.

Who was that masked man?

There’s also a dude who wanders around downtown Lewiston dressed ordinarily except for a glitter-spangled black mask he wears over his eyes. Every time I see him I want to stop and ask what’s up with the mask, but I think what my imagination has already conjured is probably way cooler than the real story, so I’ll just leave it be.

Stop looking at me!

I tell you, I wouldn’t mind going a day or two without seeing the faces of Graham Platner and Susan Collins plastered everywhere I turn. Every time I see those faces lunging out of my computer screen, I feel like I’m being haunted by my old bowling coach and eighth-grade math teacher. If you knew what horrors I’ve experienced from both bowling and mathematics, you’d understand.

Mark LaFlamme is an award-winning Sun Journal reporter and columnist. He’s covered the nighttime police beat since 1994, which is just grand because he doesn’t like getting out of bed before noon. He is the author of eight published novels and rides a dual sport motorcycle everywhere he goes. Unless it’s winter, in which case he just sulks a lot.