Author: Goatman

Manteo 18 May 2016 – A Manteo native, Trey Tillett, was ridiculed by his friends this week when, after a couple of drinks at a local establishment, he expressed interest in going across the bridge to visit the Atlantis nightclub and do a little dancing. He quickly retracted the statement, misunderstanding his friends’ laughter. He believed that they were laughing at the idea of seeing him dance.

“Actually, we were laughing because ol’ Trey never goes beyond the Midway intersection to the south or Mother Vineyard to the north. He hasn’t been more than a couple miles from his house since, well, since Atlantis was open, probably,” stated a stocky, bearded man wearing camouflage everything at the bar.

“Wait, Atlantis closed down? When did that happen?” asked Trey, clearly distraught. “Man, I used to love dancing there. Well, I only went once, in the eighties, I think, but it was really cool.”

“Hey, Trey, you been to the new Fresh Market on the beach?” called out another bearded man, farther down the bar. Upon seeing Trey’s confused look, the man explained, “It’s a grocery store, dumbass.”

“Why would I go over there? We have Food-A-Rama right here! And the Pig is next door if I need something they don’t have. Geez,” Trey answered, clearly exasperated.

“What about local seafood? You buy shrimp what comes from Thailand or China or something? Or you just stick to frozen fish sticks and ketchup?” shouted a well-known local fisherman, also bearded and in camouflage.

“No, of course not. I go down to Wanchese for that stuff. I was just down there in, when was it? The eighties, I think. That was a crazy decade.” Mr Tillett responded sharply.

Shortly afterward, Tillett stomped out mumbling about having traveled up north to see The Lost Colony in 1993.

Manteo – Local resident Anthony Byers, 48, recently earned the coveted “Local” status at a celebration held at the Manteo Community Center. Balloons, streamers, lime sherbet fizzy punch, and a tray of cupcakes, both chocolate and vanilla, helped to make the event special for Byers and the five natives who milled about the room warily, glancing occasionally at the guest of honor and whispering quietly to each other.

“After twenty-five years, I am so proud to finally achieve this recognition,” said Byers, who produced a booklet filled with stickers commemorating his steps along the way to his current status.

“Look! This is the ‘Tolerated Outsider’ award I received after living here for seven years. There was some debate about whether I deserved this one since I moved from Old Town Manteo to the North Side at year four. But they gave it to me anyway,” he explained. The sticker was brown and shaped like a leech. The next sticker was the gray lamprey-shaped “Seems OK” award granted at twelve years, followed several smaller steps culminating in the blue jellyfish “Associate” sticker at twenty years, granting recipients the right to be present but not participate when locals discuss topics of importance.

“This is the big one, though,” beamed Byers, “This allows me to visit the Tiki Bar in Wanchese, discuss local politics, and exchange greetings with actual natives. I guess I can say ‘hoi toide on the sound soide’ now.”

A chorus of offended grunts was followed by a strained rebuke from one of the attending natives, “No. No, you can’t. Stop talking now.”

Byers responded, “Listen to that brogue. That’s one of the things that make this place so special. Ah, these are my people now. Am I right, my homies?” The man who had spoken glowered back, and a heavily-bearded man seated along the wall nursing a glass of green punch actually spit on the floor in response.

Byers shrugged sheepishly and let out a nervous titter.

Being a hermited cryptid can be lonely. Some days my only human interaction is scraping my claws on the undercarriage of a car occupied by stoned teenagers. I see a lot though, so I think it is time to start writing down my take on what happening.