Man In Beige
On more than one occasion, I have had the opportunity to run into this unusual man or men. I have always had these encounters at one particular health food shop here in my town. I would say at least 3 times, perhaps 4, when I stopped by for lunch during Florida’s beautiful fall/winter season so I could sit outdoors.
Each time, I had the same exact series of events occur.
I sat at the same table outdoors on a corner sidewalk which gave me a complete view of the parking lot on both sides of the shop, cars, and entryway of the store. There was a decorative support beam to my right shoulder cemented to the sidewalk and ceiling of the store overhang. It was about 12 inches square all the way around. It did not block my vision when people passing by walked on either side of it.
Directly across from my white iron table, which was openly carved and atop a pedestal, and in my line of vision just a few feet away, sat a man dressed completely in pale beige.
The material was a gauzy, perhaps cotton, tropical looking outfit. He also wore a straw hat in the same color. The shirt hung loose over his pants. His hands and face were almost the same color as the clothes he wore. He had some fuzzy looking hair sticking out from under his straw hat. His facial skin was sort of doughy appearing as if one could push it into different shapes like kids’ play dough and unhealthy in appearance and color.
He wore sunglasses with yellow lenses and his eyes appeared to be slightly larger than normal and dark under the glasses. I could tell he was staring directly at me.
It was actually too cold out to wear that type of clothing so he was totally out of place in the setting. Everyone else was enjoying a late fall day in Florida, finally a day for light sweaters.
The tables were in the shade under an awning each time I went.
Again, I don’t like the heat and therefore only ate there when it was late fall or winter so I could sit outside. He had a thick, medium sized notebook on the table in front of him along with a glass of water.
He never had food of any kind even though he arrived after I sat down with my lunch. He did not open the notebook or drink from the glass of water.
I discovered I had difficulty looking away from him, although that could be because he never took his eyes away from me.
I could feel him staring at me.
I looked away to pay attention to my meal but felt compelled to look back at him. My husband was sitting to my left side and I told him about the man, described him and asked him to turn slightly sideways in his chair so he could look.
He did so, and agreed that this man was staring at me, not paying any attention to my husband.
When we were almost finished with our food, this man stood up, picked up his notebook and very slowly began to walk toward our table. He took his eyes away from me. He passed our table and then behind the support beam.
Just as he stepped by our table, I could have touched his shoulder as he was only inches from me. I watched, expecting to see his back as he continued down the sidewalk or the parking lot where his vehicle might be.
To my surprise, I could not see him once he passed me. He was neither on the sidewalk or in the parking lot, nor did he enter the store because the only entry was to my right and to the left of the support beam.
He was gone!
This same scenario played itself out over a period of years at least 3 or 4 times.
I have no idea what the purpose was, who he was, or what the message to me might have been, if any. The only thing I knew, without a doubt, was the fact that I was being observed and during this observation, I felt compelled to watch him watching me, return his intense stare, was very aware of his appearance, behavior, and the matter of his odd departure.
Where did he come from? Where did he go when he left? Was he demonstrating that there are other dimensions? Parallel worlds? Was he from another place and time? I have no answer.
He did not feel malevolent. I felt no fear nor did I have the desire to leave in a hurry.
I have done much thinking about these encounters and wonder if he was extracting something from me to understand who, and what I was all about.
I had reason to go back again after the last sighting and park directly across from the table I preferred. Mine was the last car in the row next to a patch of grass and cement trim. When I left, I saw that there was a car nose to nose with mine.
Not in the same condition, and it was covered with what is referred to as Angel Hair.
I attempted to capture a sample and every time I tried to collect some, it just disappeared. I could not feel it with my fingers when I touched it and it would not rub into or on to a collection vial I always carried in my purse.
It was not hot or cold. The whole car was covered. When I arrived home, there was not a sign of this angel hair substance.
I have not seen the man since then, and the store has now been closed for many years and a new business has not opened in its place yet.