Lynch has said, repeatedly, that he doesn’t believe in explaining everything in his films because there are things in life that are never explained. But none of this would be any more explicable there- in fact, it likely would have been treated as banal. Neither of them acted as if there was anything strange about this, but all I could think was: Jesus, I’m in a David Lynch movie!Īdmittedly, in a David Lynch movie, the latex-mask man would probably be singing a 50s doo-wop song. It didn’t seem like a joke and nobody was amused. I stress that there was no one else around but myself, the cashier, and the man in the latex mask. It wasn’t close to Halloween and I wasn’t close to the fraternity houses. I could think of no logical reason for there to be a man in a bad full-head latex mask in a grocery store.
on a Tuesday night in the middle of nowhere Buffalo. The thing about this situation is it was 3 a.m. Uncomfortably, I turned around and obediently walked to the waiting cashier, too nervous to look back. It was someone short and nondescript wearing a fairly shoddy latex full-head old man mask. I turned around and nodded to an old man. I stood and waited and realized there was now another customer standing behind me. I looked around and waited for someone to arrive and, after a few minutes of thoughts of stealing, heard a voice from the back yell “I’ll be right there!” I was so tired, I felt nearly dead and the flourescent lights gave the store the aura of a microwave oven. I retrieved a loaf of bread and a few other items and found the checkout aisle there was no self-service checkout at this point. It was bleak and snowy outside and the grocery store felt purgatorial there was no one else there. This particular evening- really, it was 3 a.m.- I left the office and walked to the nearest all-night budget grocery store for some sort of food. I would go to my office at the university once or twice a week to be seen, and end up spending all night writing empty words having to do with my dissertation.
It was late one night during the worst winter of my life: one of those seasons up north where everything seems to be lost in a blizzard that came from nowhere.
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