The Man With the X-Ray Eyes

One whole week I'd waited all little boy Christmas eve, for the calendar date to sync the reciept date. Time felt unfulfilled super-powers at half-mast. Big day came overcast monster-making weather. I wheel my muscular-car into the Black and Mexican Wal-Mart parking lot. Head down head to the door, wind whipping dreadlocks Medusa and car-coat wizard's-robes. Wal-mart eye-mart thousand blank stares from the sightless eyes lining the walls.
Hand the lady the reciept and she brings back a shallow white plastic tray with my shades. There they were like a bio-hazard science-experiment inky black wraparounds. Head down head back still wearing Urkel-eyes. Cannot bear the special transformation in front of others.
Raindrops patter splatter mud-dust circles on the windshield. Slip into the seat, close door, nerd eyes dropped and the darkness becomes me, rising reflected smiling in the rearview. Cyclopean ebony blindfold gleams oil-spill in the stormy afternoon twilight.
Back at the Batcave posing before the looking-glass all bad-boy grins dangling cigarette and popped-collar.
These eyes within eyes out now in the herd looking. Finally alpha-males stare-down litle boy darkness phobia Boogeyman. Finally head up eyeballs searching feeling the bodies of the females judging slave-block asses in denim and fishnet. The blindfold, the mask, the darkness gives more sight than natural ocular jellyballs.
More a Jekyll and Hyde face-twister incubated in grey-matter recovered from years of ape-pack monkey-bite locker-room epics.