4. TEENAGER IN A PARK - February 7, 2015 For oft, when on my couch I lie In vacant or in pensive mood, They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude; And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils. When I got to Bar Louie, there was no blonde girl to be found. I texted “I’m here.” She asked me to text a picture, which seemed to be some sort of screening. She got the picture and said I looked like a cop. The only picture I had in my phone, was a screen grab from when I was on “South Beach Tow,” which I show off to get free french fries at U Save Deli on NW 7th Avenue. She saw the truTV logo in my “South Beach Tow” picture, and told me the picture looked fake. Why is there a logo in it? It gave me some hope this was not a real hooker. I said I think we met before. She asked how do I know you? I said you were at McDonalds with your dark friend. She thought I was talking about her pimp. Now she was curious to see me. At first I was at the wrong entrance to Bar Louie. Then I walked around for a while with her on the phone saying “You are right in front of me.” Finally I followed her instructions to walk into the park, and saw her standing in the shadows spying on me. It was a child. I don’t like typing here, because I never wanted her to know, that I didn't find her beautiful or attractive when I first saw her. More just goofy and emaciated. It was not the girl from Wishes Motel. The first thing out of my mouth was “You’re not who I thought you were.” I immediately wished I phrased that differently. I was done here, but I still owed her $50. She was smiling a smile so big it it seemed like it would break her face. She was ashamed of her teeth and strained to control it, but she was helpless to. She was so happy to see me. It was an incomprehensible hybrid, of a child dressed up in hooker clothes like she was going on 40. She looked like she raided her mother's closet, and dressed up like what she thought a hooker should look like. It had an effect similar to Jodie Foster in "Taxi Driver," but I knew she was too young to have seen that movie. I was ready to pay her, but she invited me to sit on a park bench. Let’s talk for a bit. I said are you really 21? Her eyes looked like 19, and it made sense why she was not actually inside the bar. I thought she might even be under 18. She thought I was asking if she was older than 21. She said yes, she is only 21. She immediately started spouting about her dogs and her cat and her Grandma. That a girl like this would be meeting strangers in Miami, in a park at night, I knew she had no perception of human intentions, like an autistic person. In particular, no recognition of the evil nature of man, no worry that someone might strangle her. When she said she just rode into town on her motorcycle from Orlando, I knew she also lacked a sense of risks. She was sweet and happy, unburdened by the complexities, ambitions, and self-consciousness of an adult mind. She was like Clarisse in "Fahrenheit 451." She reminded me of me. I decided she must have a brain injury. A witness in a police report later described her as drawing you in with that smile, like the Cheshire Cat in Alice in Wonderland. That is a pretty good description. She was that happy to see almost any guy, probably even if he was coming at her with a chainsaw. Being with her was a vacation from the awful reality of the world, into a Dr. Seuss book. We had an awful lot in common, more than I can remember to list here. She lived in Orlando, near the two 7-11’s I-9